Mafia Octavia

by The Villain in Glasses

Rating: mature
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, DJ P0N-3, Dark, Alternate Universe, Applejack, Thriller, Drama, Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Octavia, Adventure
Length: 33086

Equestria has forgotten the Values of Harmony and given rise to a new villain: Organized Crime.

It's been a year since the war that ended the changeling swarm led by Queen Chrysalis, but the war didn't end without scars.

A year later, Equestria is under a prohibition and now faces a new villain with a new battleground: crime.

Octavia Melody was once a simple cellist, playing her cello in pubs in the lower-class neighborhoods in Canterlot along with her best friend Vinyl. All of that changed one day when the Royal Guard interrupted her final performance as a cellist.

Desperate for work, Octavia took the first job she was offered, and stepped into the criminal underworld that now stretches across the once-peaceful Equestria.

Slowly losing her sanity in this new world of cider bootlegging under the orders of the Apple Family Mafia, can Octavia survive in a world where the Values of Harmony are forgotten?

(Based on the Mafia Octavia Tumblr by the Insane Bardock)

Published 2015-12-26 06:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2016-06-30 08:57:56 UTC

Ashes to Ashes

Mafia Octavia Act 1: Ashes to Ashes

Things had been pretty rough in Equestria for quite a while now, ever since the depression and prohibition started, a lot of good ponies had been forced to do… things. Things they would not have been proud of doing before the Revenge War against the changeling swarms about a month after they had hit Canterlot during the recent royal wedding. The fact of the matter was, ponies weren’t warriors, not usually anyway. There were exceptions of course, the Bearer of Loyalty was one such pony who could hold her own, but even she quailed during the war and disappeared soon after.

After the changelings were scattered and their queen destroyed, the pony society began to fall apart. The values of harmony that it had been based on no longer seemed to apply. Nopony explicitly trusted anypony else, not without incentive.

None of that however, was dwelling within the mind of Octavia Melody at that moment.

When the hell is this guy going to run out of ammo!? Octavia was currently taking cover behind a slowly deteriorating table in an underground speakeasy underneath the Ponyville barber shop. The owner of said speakeasy, an earth pony stallion with a beige coat and brown mane covered with a bowler’s hat, was currently unloading clip after clip of 9mm rounds into the surprisingly sturdy wood surface. Octavia tapped her hoof on the hardwood floor in time with the owner’s shots, three… two… one. A clicking sound filled the underground space as the stallion’s handgun came up empty.

Seizing her chance, Octavia vaulted over her now battered cover and bought her tommy gun to bear on the stallion hiding behind the bar, she squeezed the trigger… but instead of the chatter of the submachine gun’s characteristic sound, another audible click echoed into the awkward silence in the underground pub.

The smug bartender stood up on all fours and pointed his now loaded handgun at the defenseless mare, “Just give it up, Tavi!” he said in a heavily accented voice, “walk on out and I promise I won’t shoot you in the ba-” The stallion was silenced when a high-velocity tommy gun found it’s mark in his muzzle after being thrown by his assailant.

“Now, pay up”

Hey Octavia, who’s after you?

Damn it, not them again. Octavia fumed as she pulled her trench coat a little tighter around her, readjusting the strap on her cello case containing her gun. These voices had been randomly popping into her head ever since… that day. The day she too was forced to become someone she was never meant to be in this new version of Equestria.

“No one, everyone,” she muttered to herself, knowing full well that anypony who saw her would most likely think she was insane, which she probably was, she just wasn’t entirely sure yet. “Doesn’t matter, I was just collecting some debt. Things didn’t go according to plan but-”
“Octavia”

That one voice was enough to let Octavia know she was screwed.

Octavia turned to face the little yellow, red-maned filly. Applebloom craned her neck to look the gray earth pony in the eye, “boss says you’ve got a lot of explainin’ to do,” she said, amber eyes piercing her with a look that no filly should ever have on her face, “She ain’t happy, just a warnin’.” Octavia rubbed the bridge of her muzzle, “Noted, thank’s for the warning, Bloom.” Applebloom nodded, and trotted off without another word.

scratch that, she was absolutely, completely, genuinely screwed.

“Mind explainin’ this?” The orange earth pony mare behind the large wooden desk said, clasping her forehooves in front of her mouth and staring at Octavia with piercing green eyes.

“Well, I…”

On the desk was a copy of the Ponyville Chronicle, the local newspaper. On the front page was the title in large print: ILLEGAL BAR FOUND UNDER LOCAL BARBER SHOP AFTER SHOOTOUT. A small subtext also competed with its larger brother: Possible Mafia Ties?

“In just 24 hours you’ve gained the attention of over 100 pony folk in the general area alone. Ya go in to collect debt with a machine gun, y’all tryin’ to get noticed or somethin’?”

Octavia stayed silent.

“There’s a time for unorthodox methods, but until then, bribes before lives, kid.” Applejack “Jack” Apple lowered her hooves from her muzzle, fixing a look Octavia knew too well as her ‘I’m watching you’ look.

“Yes ma’am…”

Applejack sighed, “You’re a good kid Tavi, I don’t need y’all runnin’ around tryin’ to get killed.” Her gaze softened somewhat before continuing, “I’ve got another assignment for ya. Tomorrow mornin’ Just escort Mac in a run, make sure the delivery goes off without a hitch, and keep it low profile.”

“Consider it done.”

“Oh and one more thing,” Applejack said as Octavia turned to leave, “Ya might want to find somewhere else to sleep tonight, we got tipped off. Your home a’int safe for now. Stay here if y’all need, don’t matter to me.”

Exactly how much does the Apple Family control? Does anyone else have a stake in the mafia?

Octavia sighed, the voices usually annoyed her when nopony else was around, and it was better to answer them when they did come up with a question like this one.

“The Apples both make and ship their product, Applebloom handles intelligence gathering since she’s young enough to fly under the radar, “Mac” is a mover, and A.J. gives the orders. But she supposedly gets orders from somepony named “Smith”. Ponies like me are only here as security in exchange for assistance from the family.”

Do you have any sort of rival? Or arch-enemy?

Octavia turned in her cot so that she could stare at the ceiling, “There’s another rival mafia, run by two brothers. They’re a lot more aggressive but that just makes shipping their product harder. I wouldn’t trust those two snakes as far as I could throw them, and if I did, it would be into a lake.” Octavia said, her words dripping with venom.

What happened to Vinyl?

Octavia blew out the candle next to her cot, and let the darkness of sleep take her.

There had never been an expectation for her current life to be easy. It hadn’t always been this way, she had never needed to do anything like what was now a daily occurrence. Necessity is what drove her into this, the bittersweet irony of what her life was now struck Octavia again as she waited on her cot, holding her hat in her fore hooves, awaiting Mac’s arrival. The closing of the pubs is what forced her into this life, and now she was closer to them than ever before. It was truly the crown jewel of tragic jokes.

“Tavi, y’all ready? We’re moving” came the short prompt from the cellar entrance.

Octavia sighed as she rubbed her tired eyes with her hoof, “I’ll be up in a minute, Mac.” She called.

“Eeyup” came the even shorter reply.

Grudgingly, Octavia pulled herself to her hooves and put on her trench coat and hat, slinging her “cello” case over her back as she walked to the cellar stairs. The damn thing hadn’t carried a cello in about a year, but the cops didn’t need to know that, now did they?

“Mornin’ Big Mac,” Octavia said sleepily to the waiting stallion, ready and hitched up to a cart laden with barrels containing the highly illegal hard cider they were transporting today.

“Mornin’ Tavi.” Came yet another short reply from the stoic earth pony.

The pair didn’t say a word to each other, words weren’t necessarily needed or wanted in their line of work, you never know who might be listening. And besides, these runs usually went smoothly, the Apple family took every precaution to make sure nopony knew what moves they were making, and its members never did anything to get themselves caught, lest they face the wrath of one of the most honestly scary mares in Equestria. Yes these runs usually-

“Detective Twilight Sparkle, Ponyville P.D. This is my partner, Detective Pinkie Pie. Do you mind if we take a look inside those barrels?”

Octavia had to use every last fiber of willpower not to facehoof at just how much Murphy loved to be proven right.

Pinkie moved around Big Mac toward the barrels, and Twilight moved forward to intercept Mac’s objections. “I’ll give you a chance to tell me up front, what’s in the barrels?” Twilight asked pointedly, levitating a notebook and quill in her magic. Big Mac’s eyes darted to the side as he heard the sound of a barrel being opened. “Um… potatoes.” Mac said thickly, the red stallion was never known for his ability to lie. “Potatoes?” Twilight said, giving him a deadpan look, “there’s never been any records of any ground crop orders from the apple family acres, you’re lying!” Big Mac’s eyes visibly darted around as if searching for an explanation.

“Well uh, you see… we expanded our crop, times are tough y’know. because of the cider laws, not many ponies want- I mean need-”

“Apples.” Twilight finished, glaring at the uncomfortable stallion.

“Nothing but apples here, they’re free to go.” Said Pinkie Pie, walking past the pair munching on one of the red fruits. Twilight looked at her incredulously, “Pinkie, don’t you think we should be more thorough?” she hissed at her partner. “Sorry for the confusion, Officers” Octavia interjected, “Now if you’ll excuse us we’re running a little late, you two have a good day now.” And with that, both earth ponies quickly pushed past the two detectives, leaving a fuming unicorn in their wake.

When they were out of earshot, Big Mac leaned over to his escort: “Hey Octavia, we weren’t carrying any apples were we?” He said lifting an eyebrow.

“Eenope.” came her short reply.

“So does that mean Pinkie…” Mac let his voice trail off, understanding dawning on his face.

“Eeyup.” came another short reply.

Bribes before lives, after all.

Well, this place is as classy as ever. Octavia thought as she glanced around the pub that, technically, shouldn’t exist. The Drunk Donut was another ‘classy’ establishment that benefitted from the assistance of the Apple family: booze and security in exchange for protection money, which ponies like Octavia usually went to collect.
Octavia coddled her mug of cider closer to her chest and took another measured gulp, letting the soothing jazz music wash over her along with the unique properties of alcohol. It was times like this when her mind began to wander to things that were best left buried. Joining the mafia meant cutting away all liabilities from one’s life: her parents, friends, the rest of the Canterlot conservatory, they all most likely thought she was dead by now. All the better, because she could never know when her luck would finally run out and she reached the end of the line.

And then her mind began to wander to an even more dangerous place: Vinyl Scratch. She was likely faring much better than most pianists and DJ’s, piano players were in much higher demand than cellists nowadays after all. She could have easily gotten a job playing in a hotel lobby or…

Octavia shook her head, banishing all thoughts of her closest friend from her mind before taking a long pull from her mug, thinking of her would only make her decision more painful. Therefore the only course of action was to obliterate that train of thought the only way she knew how: with lots and lots of cider.

At least the family pays me enough to keep up with my new ‘hobbies’, Octavia thought ruefully, moving to take another drink before something hit her on the back of the head, causing her to lose consciousness faster than cider ever could.

“Next stop, Ponyville!” said the conductor, repeating the message in every car along his linear route. The blue earth pony’s bellows awoke a certain alabaster unicorn with a two-tone electric blue mane. Vinyl Scratch yawned stretched, causing her joints to crackle and pop, eager to move after her restless and rather uncomfortable train ride. Vinyl rubbed the back of her head, popping the joints in her neck as she levitated her overnight bag out from under her seat.

It had been a year, one full year since the most important mare in her life just vanished without a trace. No note, no paper trail to follow, no clue as to whether or not her best friend was still alive after all this time.

That was until yesterday, when a letter without a return address showed up in Vinyl’s mail.

Vinyl patted her shirt pocket to confirm that her only lead was still in its hiding spot, not wanting to lose it so easily. For the first time since her disappearance, Vinyl had a clue on where to look.

“Hang on Tavi, I’m coming.”

Octavia awoke to the sound of two ponies talking over her, she wasn't sure what they were talking about, but she was pretty sure they were arguing about something. And it’s also raining, lovely. She thought ruefully.

“Hey Tavi, you awake?” came the first voice, reacting to Octavia’s stirring.

“You hit her too hard, dear. Give her time.” Came the second, Octavia was fully conscious now, and praying that these two weren’t who she thought they were. “No, none of that, we don’t have time for a lost little mare to catch up on her beauty sleep. We need answers, now.” replied the first.

Octavia was suddenly roughly pulled up into a sitting position, a loud *click* coming from just behind her left ear, signaling the hammer being pulled back on her captor’s favorite .44 magnum revolver.

Octavia quickly took stock of her situation: her forehooves were cuffed in front of her, she was likely near the pier in the docks district in Ponyville if the sound of waves hitting the storm breakers was any indication, assuming she was still in Ponyville. She had two ponies behind her, ones she’d hoped she would never meet under these circumstances. And her favorite hat was gone, which was just the icing on the cake of the horrible day she was currently having.

“Good, she’s awake. Now let’s see if she can talk.” Her more aggressive captor said, jamming the barrel of her gun into the back of Octavia’s head, “Now then,” the mare said, obviously relishing this moment, “What’s the colonel’s secret recipe?”

This got a pause from Octavia, “What?”

This earned Octavia a new lump on her head as her captor pistol-whipped her, causing Octavia to crash down onto the ground again.

“Augh! what the hell!?”

“Equestrian motherbucker, do you speak it!? Say ‘what’ again…” Her captor trailed off as the barrel of her gun burrowed into the nape of Octavia’s neck.

“Lyra, I think you’ve made your point. Let’s get this done and stop stalling.” Came the emotionless voice of Bonbon. Lyra sighed, “Fine.” before reaching down and roughly pulling Octavia back up into a sitting position. Digging the barrel of the gun into Octavia’s cheek, Lyra asked in a commanding tone, “Where is the cider being made?”

Octavia glared at the teal unicorn, “You think they’d tell me anything? Your guess is better than mine. You've been in this town longer than I have.” Lyra screwed the barrel deeper into Octavia’s cheek, “Do you think I’m stupid!? TALK DAMMIT! TELL ME WHERE THE CIDER IS BEING MADE!” Lyra roared, all pretense dropped, drawing a sardonic grin from her captive.

“How cute, just interested in forcing an answer, right or wrong. You have no idea how to question anypony, you're weak. Just like the rest of Flim and Flam’s trash.” Lyra was shaking now, “BULLSHIT, you just don't wanna talk. Fine. I can just kill you now if you’re of no use, we can look elsewhere.”

An evil grin sliced across Lyra’s face, “Say… a certain blue-haired unicorn. You know her. She’s here Tavi… arrived two days ago. She’s looking for you.” Again, the gun twisted into Octavia’s jaw, “Liabilities… you just can’t shake them, can you? If you won’t talk, she will. And if she doesn’t…” Lyra let her voice trail off into the land of suggestion.

Octavia’s eyes narrowed, “Leave her out of this, she doesn’t know anything.” Octavia said, doing her best to try and keep her emotions down. Lyra’s amber eyes twinkled with glee as she scented victory at hoof, “You’re not exactly in a position to tell me what to do, now are you?” Lyra readjusted her grip on her gun, only to be interrupted by a certain gray earth pony skull crashing into her muzzle sending her reeling, allowing Octavia to roll onto her back.

Lyra squeezed off a blind shot, which whizzed past Octavia’s ear as she bucked her attacker in the stomach, hard. Lyra was sent flying by the force of it, dropping her gun next to Octavia. Octavia made to grab it, when a cream-colored hoof stomped down on both the gun, and Octavia’s hope of escape. “Octavia, enough.” Bonbon said, bringing her double-barreled shotgun to bear against the hapless earth pony.

“Tavi, enough if this already, no one is coming for you.” Bonbon said in her typical emotionless voice, her cold, empty eyes fixed directly on Octavia’s, “Things are heating up Octavia, a storm is coming. Vinyls’ going to get caught up in this if she’s not careful. Help us, for her sake. We’ll make sure to keep her out of this mess. Give us something to work with-” Bonbon was interrupted by her mint green partner, whose face was now a mask of savage fury, “Tell us where the shipping routes are, dammit! TALK BEFORE SHE BLOWS YOUR BRAINS OUT!” Bonbon sighed, “Lyra, please…”

Octavia went through her options, if she talked, she would betray the family and would likely be made to disappear. If she didn’t talk, then Lyra and Bonbon would surely go after Vinyl, which was something she couldn’t, wouldn’t allow. Octavia sighed in defeat, “Sewers. There’s a tunnel, leads to the well by the farm. We’d sometimes drop barrels down there and the lackeys would pick them up. Leave them by the warehouse, where the tunnels let out.” Octavia turned her glare back up to her captors, “Now hurry up and kill me, I gave you what you wanted. Just leave Vinyl out of this.”

Bonbon smiled sweetly, but her eyes remained cold and hard, like those of a doll, “Oh Octavia, I’m not going to kill you for working with us.” She said, lowering her gun, “However… you hurt my Lyra, and for that you’re going to die.” And with that, Bonbon bought her hoof down on Octavia’s head, a look of bloody glee tearing away at the emotionless mask she had on before.

Octavia’s last thought was: I’m getting sick of being knocked out.

“Room five, third floor. Haven’t heard from her in a few days, but a few boys came by the other night looking for her as well.” Said the weary earth pony receptionist of the Golden Horseshoe Inn. Vinyl Scratch mumbled her thanks before trudging up the steps to the third floor.

Reaching Room 5, Vinyl rapped her forehoof on the door, causing it to creak open with an ear-piercing squeal that filled Vinyl with an even greater sense of urgency. “Tavi? You home? …Hello?” Vinyl called as she slowly pushed the door open, eliciting an eerie protest from the hinges as they were forced into motion.

The room was a mess, as though a hurricane had been created right in the middle of the room. Clothes, medicine bottles, blankets, and various other objects were strewn haphazardly across the room, and on the walls was one repeating phrase, imprinted in dark crimson paint was the word: “TOUCHABLE”.

“Oh no…” Vinyl muttered as she walked into the ruined room, her worst fears realized by the state of the one lead she had on her best friend. Her forehoof struck something, Vinyl glanced down at the toppled picture frame before her and levitated it before her. It was their graduation picture from the Canterlot Musical Academy, the two young mares rejoicing as they looked toward what was supposed to be a bright future as musicians, but that picture was cracked and faded now, with several larger cracks passing through the younger version of Octavia. “Where the hell are you, Tavi?” Vinyl sighed, the hopelessness of the current situation filling her.

A metallic *click* sounded behind Vinyl, breaking the silence, “funny you should ask” said a voice behind her, an unmistakably male voice.

Octavia stirred from her slumped over position, her head was pounding and her tongue felt fuzzy, almost as if she had a bad hangover, “Ugh… what happened? Damn headaches…” she mumbled as she cracked her eyes open. She glanced up and did a double-take of what she saw: her own reflection. Her mane was clean and brushed, no longer the frazzled mess it was before, and she was wearing a long, black evening gown that she hadn’t worn since her final performance with… and just like that she had forgotten the two obvious contradictions in her appearance.

“Tavi, you’re on in 7, you ready?” a familiar voice said, its source coming from outside Octavia’s field of vision. Octavia continued to stare at her reflection, confusion taking hold, wasn’t there a problem with the current situation? Vinyl leaned into view of the mirror, dressed in a purple shirt and a black vest, her signature shades flashing in the light of the bulbs around the vanity mirror Octavia was staring into, “You alright? Don’t tell me you're getting cold hooves now.” “Y-yeah, I’m fine…” Octavia stammered, her mental alarms going off, unheeded. Vinyl walked off towards the curtain at the end of the hall, “Alright, just hurry up. Crowd’s waiting.”

Octavia got out of her seat and followed Vinyl to the stage. Peeking out from behind the curtain, Octavia got a good look at the crowd Vinyl had mentioned. She couldn’t see any faces due to the marquis lanterns shining towards her, but she could tell that there were a lot of ponies in the audience, onstage were a large piano and her cello, both tuned up and ready for playing. Vinyl was impatiently waving her out onto the stage from her seat at the piano.

Octavia stepped out to the sounds of hooves stomping quietly from the assembled audience, it was a sound she had been yearning for ever since… what? The small blank in her memories gave her a moment’s pause, it felt as if she had forgotten something incredibly important. Octavia quickly shook it off, she had a job to do, and standing in stunned silence wasn't going to accomplish it. Octavia stepped up to her cello, holding it upright, as if helping an old friend stand again.

The piano set the pace as bow met strings and the music began to dance.

Bullets whizzed past Vinyl’s head as she raced down the hallway towards the open window at the end of the hall, she had pegged the hit pony in the muzzle with the picture frame, the stallion, not too pleased with his newly acquired bloody nose, gave chase almost immediately, bringing his gun to bear against the fleeing former DJ. “She’s heading for the fire escape, stop her!” one of her pursuers shouted, continually firing his gun at Vinyl.

Vinyl vaulted through the window onto the cold metal of the fire escape and made a leap of faith into the dumpster below, bullets making scalding passes as she made her escape.

“She’s down there, get her!” said the now stuffy stallion as Vinyl slowly pulled herself up from her unceremonious landing among the trash bags. The sound of hoofsteps near the entrance to the alleyway heralded the arrival of another pony. Whether it was friend or foe, Vinyl had no idea, but she wasn't about to let herself find out. Scrambling out of the dumpster, Vinyl made a quick exit down the very alleyway she had fallen into.

Vinyl wasn’t sure where she was going. To her, any direction that lead away from her pursuers was good enough for her. She never looked behind her as the booming thunderheads above began to sound remarkably like gunfire, adding to her panic. Come on Vinyl, move! She screamed at herself, not sure if the sound of pounding hoofbeats were hers, or that of her pursuers. Gradually the hoofbeats began to fade away the further Vinyl lost herself in the maze of back alleys that made up Ponyville. Vinyl panted as she slowed down, attempting to calm herself. “I think I lost them,” she muttered to herself between gasps as she rounded a corner, only to stare down the barrel of a .44 magnum pointed directly at her muzzle.

Octavia heard the flames before she felt them, the crash of a molotov cocktail breaking open against the curtains acted as an early warning to their inevitable immolation. “Tavi! Get down!” Vinyl shouted, ducking behind her piano. The roar of the flames filled Octavia’s ears as she just stood there, cello in hoof, completely stunned as the gaps in her memories began to fill in. The prohibition, the mafia, her capture, all of it came rushing back to her in that moment. “No…” Octavia moaned, her eyes beginning to tear up, “This isn’t how it was supposed to happen…” Octavia gritted her teeth, “But I’m goin to kill each and every one of these fuckers if it’s he last thing I do!” Octavia dove for the piano, bow in her mouth, her face a mask of sheer rage as bullets from an unseen machine gun began to pepper the stage.

Octavia peeked around her cover, only to pull sharply back when a high-caliber bullet came too close for comfort. “Damn them to hell! how did they get in here any-”

“-Tavi.”

Vinyl’s voice cut through Octavia’s fury like a knife. “Just start shooting.” She said, slipping her shades over her eyes and grinning as she held up a matching pair of slim pistols. Octavia stared at her friend incredulously, “With what, exactly? My bow?” She said, waving the object in her hooves in front of the grinning mare’s face, but the cello bow was no longer there, in her hooves was a fully loaded tommy gun, its stock and grips were painted matte black and its metal parts looked brand new. An evil grin sliced its way across Octavia’s face as she ran her hooves along the beautiful weapon, “Perfect.”

The hail of bullets paused as the barrel of the machine gun was directed elsewhere, showering the unfortunate target with a hail of bullets. “Glad you’re alright,” Vinyl said, peeking around their cover, “Now lets do this.” Octavia’s grin widened, “Time to show them how to properly use a ‘bow’!” with that, both mares jumped out from behind the piano and began to fire in bursts toward the offending machine gun.

“That damn mare’s back, cover me!” Flam shouted above the sounds of gunfire, frantically slamming another clip into his BAR. Flim complied, bringing his revolver around to suppress the pair firing from the stage. Octavia barely registered the bullets whizzing past her as a continuous stream of bullets erupted from her gun, she barely saw the crumpled form of Big Macintosh lying just a little ways away from the table the Flim Flam brothers were taking cover behind, and she barely noticed Applejack as she fought off both Lyra and Bonbon in a mix of knife, gun, and hoof-to-hoof combat. All Octavia saw in that moment were the twins that were the current target of her hatred, cowering behind their wooden barrier. “Octavia what are you doing!? Get back to cover!” Vinyl shouted, only to withdraw as a bullet chipped off a piece of the piano next to her nose.

Octavia, think for a second! Your bow turned into a tommy gun, how the heck is that normal? Something’s very wrong here! Look at Vinyl, That’s not Vinyl!

Oh, they’re back again, huh? Octavia thought dryly, readjusting her aim at the chandelier hanging above the two brothers, “Just shut up.” the spray of bullets hit their mark. The effect was instantaneous, the chandelier came crashing down, demolishing everything in its path, the brothers, their weapons, and Big Mac’s barely conscious body.

Another gunshot was heard as Lyra crumpled to the floor, the bullet from Applejack’s long colt revolver hitting it’s mark, “I’LL END YOU!” Bonbon screamed, leveling her double-barrel shotgun at the orange mare. Applejack calmly placed her worn stetson back on her head as the chatter of submachine gun fire cut down Bonbon. “Hello Applejack.” Octavia said, lowering the smoking barrel of her gun and stepping off the stage, “Thought you might like some help, we should probably get out of here before the cops-” The clicking of a gun hammer being pulled back cut her off, “First you sell out your own, then you kill one of the family.” Applejack stated calmly, her piercing, green-eyed stare fixed squarely on the gray mare in front of her, “What?” Octavia spluttered in confusion, before finally noticing the discarded lever-action shotgun lying next to the fallen chandelier.

Another, smaller form stepped out from behind Applejack, revealing itself to be a teary-eyed Applebloom. “It’s true!” she choked out between sobs, “She cracked under Lyra and Bonbon, then killed Big Mac!” Applejack’s eyes hardened as she readjusted her grip on her long colt revolver, “at this point, you’re a liability. And I can’t let one walk.”

The sound of another gun hammer being pulled back broke the uncomfortable silence as Vinyl pressed the barrel of one of her pistols to the back of Applejack’s head, “Don’t even think about it” Vinyl said in a commanding tone.

Applejack slowly turned her head, regarding the ivory mare with the same cold glare that had made her infamous in the Ponyville underworld, “I shoulda figured,” she remarked softly, “Working with a unicorn. Conversin’ with the enemy ‘till the very end.”

At that moment, the sounds of sirens erupted just outside the pub, “ATTENTION!” a loud, booming voice announced, “WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED, COME OUT WITH YOUR HOOVES UP!” Octavia’s frantic eyes made contact with Applejack’s calm ones, “Applejack, just think about this for a second!” Applejack’s eyes narrowed, “We’re in this mess together, like it or not. How much more blood needs to be shed?” Applejack just stared for a few more seconds before sighing and lowering her gun, “we’re dead. Nothin’ gonna change that now.” Applejack turned and faced the young filly next to her, “Applebloom, stay low and out of sight. Run back to Granny Smith when you can and tell her what happened.” Applejack took her gun in both hooves, her face grim. “This ends tonight.”

“Damn right it does.”

A loud *bang* sounded through the pub as Vinyl’s bullet ripped into Applejack’s side, causing the orange mare to crumple in a heap. “Never trust a DJ.” Vinyl said, sneering at Applejack. “Applejack!” Applebloom cried, rushing to her sister’s side, “Don’t worry kid… takes a lot more to take down an… earth… pony…” Applejack gasped out before falling silent. Fury gripped Octavia at that moment, she brought her gun around and trained it on Vinyl’s head, “why? Tell me why Vinyl! Why did you do this!?” “Oh please…” ‘Vinyl’ scoffed, pulling off her signature shades as her face began to melt away, replaced by the turquoise coat and topaz eyes of Lyra Heartstrings.

“Think Octavia, did any of this seem at all too convenient? Your bow turning into a tommy gun that just happens to run dry when you need it most? Big Mac charging headlong into incoming fire? A piano, thick enough to stop .30 - 06 cartridges from a BAR?” Lyra grinned sadistically as the world around her began to swirl and swim as the drug-induced dream began to lift, “Your fragile mind deceives you.” Lyra closed the gap between them, her face once again taking the appearance of Vinyl, “time to wake up, sleeping beauty.”

Octavia’s eyes shot open, her field of vision filled with the image of a light blue unicorn mare with a baby blue mane. A cloak covered with stars and other celestial symbols was worn over her suit, with a matching wizard’s hat perched atop her head. “Time to wake up, sleeping beauty,” she said with a grin, as if she knew the punchline to a joke Octavia was currently missing, “Welcome to Manehattan, all expenses paid, courtesy of Flim and Flam.” And with that, she gave Octavia a stiff push off the edge of the harbor, kicking the large cinderblock tied to Octavia’s hind legs overboard as soon as the grey earth pony hit the water.

The water pressure hit Octavia like a ton of bricks, slowly constricting her barely-filled chest cavity as the heavy cinderblock dragged her down to the murky depths.

“Hey kid, get up. Those stallions are gone now.” Lyra said, lowering her gun an extending a hoof to the cowering Vinyl, “Who the hell were they? Who the hell are you?” the confused former DJ asked, using the added leverage to pull herself up to all fours. “An enemy of the ones who were after you, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend. You must know someone important if those guys were after you.”

“I was just looking for a friend, she sent me a letter a week ago, but I haven’t seen her in about a year. Her name is Octavia.” Lyra holstered her magnum, “well that makes sense…” she muttered, her pensive look attracting Vinyl’s attention, “What do you mean?” Lyra shot Vinyl a look of pity, “You’re caught in an underworld with no say in the matter, so I’ll tell you”

“Octavia herself is a rival crime lord, and you’re a loose end. She wanted to draw you out just to dispose of you.”

“But that would mean…” Vinyl’s eyes began to water as tears began to blur her vision, her question was answered by a single nod from the turquoise unicorn.

Vinyl slumped down to her knees in shock, It can’t be true, Tavi wouldn’t do that to me, would she? Lyra placed a hoof on her shoulder, “I know its a lot to take in, The underworld is a cruel place. I have my share of ‘friends’ that want me dead now too.” Lyra heaved a long suffering sigh, “look, you seem like a nice girl, so I’m gonna give you an offer you can’t refuse, not If you want to survive.” Lyra pulled Vinyl up to her hooves again and continued, “You’re neck deep in this mess without realizing it, Octavia won’t let you leave this town alive. So join us, we’ll train you, keep you safe, and help you survive.” Lyra held out a hoof, “So, what do you say?”

Vinyl sniffed, wiping a hoof across her eyes to dry them. Her former best friend had just tried to kill her, that was clear enough, Vinyl refused to give her stallions another chance at her, not without a fight. Vinyl’s eyes blazed with determination as she took Lyra’s extended hoof in her own, “I’ll do it.”

Lyra had to use every ounce of her willpower not to laugh at that moment.

It was an unusual night in Manehattan harbor,. The sky was clear, save for the few stray clouds hiding small pieces of Luna’s constellations from view, the pale face of the moon could be seen clearly against the glittering backdrop, and for once, the waters were deathly still. Any sailor worth his salt (and perhaps his cider, depending on who you asked.) would say that this was an extremely unlikely occurrence, usually the sign of a squall about to make landfall sometime in the near future.

But what made this night truly unique was the multi-colored streak that dove into the harbor, seemingly from orbit at a breakneck speed, as if it was trying to reach the bottom of the harbor for some unknowable purpose. A rowboat drew up close to where a cyan pegasus with a rainbow-colored mane surfaced, carrying her sizable bounty from the depths of the harbor.

“argh, for the love of Celestia, ye be heavy.” the mare grunted, slinging the unconscious earth pony onto the deck of the small craft, “Now let’s see if ye earth ponies be as tough as they say…” she muttered, compressing the unconscious mare’s chest several times, forcing her to cough up seawater violently onto the deck. “Well ‘captain’, looks like yer cellist’s last song went…” the pegasus covered one of her eyes with an eyepatch she had previously worn on her forehead, “swimmingly.” she finished with a devilish smile to the aggravated earth pony stallion gripping the oars.

“I don’t care who you are, and I don't care that you saved me. I swear to Luna if I ever hear another pun come out of your mouth, I will kill you.” Octavia growled, spitting the last of the brine from her mouth.

The stallion face hoofed, a vein pulsing in his temple, “Ah fer Pete’s sake, Dash… This be why we don’t do business that often.” The pegasus, ‘Dash’, crossed her forehooves and huffed in annoyance, “ye two have no sense of humor.” Then her smile returned, “Add in an extra barrel to sweeten the deal an’ mebbe I’ll keep me trap shut fer the remainder of the night.”

Octavia had enough, “alright, I want answers. Who the hell are you two?” Dash turned around with a look of shock, “WHAT!?” she exclaimed, turning to face the waterlogged earth pony with a look of dismay, “Ye’ve never heard of the infamous Captain Dash!? The Riot of Rainbow Colors! The Winged Wench! The Rainbow Reign! Captain of the dreaded Pirateworm!?” The older earth pony just sighed and extended a hoof, pulling of his sea pony’s cap as he did so, “Nautical’s my name,” he said in a gruff voice, fixing Octavia with a steely look from his storm grey eyes, “Former Navy Officer turned ‘dockworker’. Consider your rescue a favor from the family.” Octavia nodded her understanding and accepted his extended hoof as Captain Dash continued her tirade of titles, now hovering in the air with a look of sheer dismay on her face. “Personally ah would’ve left ye fer dead,” Nautical continued, placing his cap back on his head, “but I don’t call the shots.”

Octavia shot him a confused look, “Where are we even? The water under the docks in Ponyville aren’t this salty.” The dark humor bought a wry grin to Nautical’s face, “Aye, welcome to Manehattan girl. Consider yerself lucky, got the order all the way from Ponyville.” Nautical began to row the boat back to the docks, “Jack be furious with ye no doubt, but she still wants ye alive. So as I can’t fly fast enough to dive deep, we got a spot o’ help from Prate Dash.” The cyan pegasus flashed her signature grin, “’tis a tough task to ‘dive in’ and pull out a pony who’s ‘in the drink’. But, speakin’ o’ drinks, I don’t work fer free. Remember?” Nautical scowled at the brazen mare, “Right… four barrels o’ Sweet Apple Hard Cider.” Dash’s grin grew wider, “I think ye meant ‘five’.”

The remainder of the ride passed without incident, the creak of the boat was the only noise to be had the whole time. When the boat was tied off and the passengers had disembarked, Octavia fixed Dash with a sideways glance, “…so wait, you work for cider?” Dash trotted alongside her, grinning the whole time, “Aye. If I work fer bits, I’d just be spendin’ it on cider anyway. Ah’m basically the Element of Loyalty as well,” she chuckled a bit and lifted her eyepatch from her perfectly normal magenta eye, “customer loyalty that is.”

“Dash,” Nautical called from the boat, “be back here in 30, same as usual, and check the unmanned rowboat.” Dash turned, “Just make sure there be five barrels, and we’ll be…” Octavia’s expression turned to one of horror, “don’t you dare…”

Dash slipped the eyepatch over her eye again.

“don’t - ”

“rollin’.”

Octavia face hoofed, “I swear to Celestia, I’m going to kill you.”

Dash just cackled and flew away, she was on the other side of the docks faster than Octavia could reach out and throttle the offending pun-happy mare.

The city fell silent as the pair of earth ponies entered one of the high-end neighborhoods on the outskirts of the city center, the ones reserved for those who usually lived in Canterlot and those with lots of skeletons in their closets. “You still haven’t explained how you knew where I was, or who we’re meeting.” Octavia said, eyeing the surrounding buildings with mild disgust. “Ugh… fer the love of-” Nautical growled in annoyance, “The Oranges. We be meetin’ the Oranges, lass. By Celestia’s beard I thought ye were smarter than this Octavia.” Octavia glared at him, “Well excuse me for recovering from being knocked out and drugged beyond belief!” Nautical just shook his head and kept walking, “oh yeah, I almost drowned as well!” Octavia shouted at the stallion’s back.

“Don’t underestimate the family. They saw the whole thing, and just had ye tailed all the way here. Any more obvious questions?” Nautical said over his shoulder at the petulant mare behind him. “So instead of intervening, they just leave me to die…” Octavia muttered, picking up her pace to keep up with her old escort as they trotted up to a stately manor that must have been much older than any of the surrounding buildings.

Nautical turned to face Octavia in front of the gate, “Just watch yer mouth girl, as far as Flim and Flam know, yer dead. That’s a plus. Jack wanted ta’ make ye suffer for the slip-up considerin’ the headache ye gave her, but she still has use for ye.” His eyes narrowed as he pushed the gate open, “don’t blow it again.”

Nautical began walking towards the door to the manor, “Now come on, the oranges have been waiting long enough.” Octavia followed, albeit reluctantly, after the old stallion. Raising his hoof, Nautical knocked three times on the door, which was opened by a young, tomboyish filly with an orange coat, green eyes, and a light red mane. “Hello?” she said, cautiously looking at the two guests outside. “Ahoy, scalawag!” Nautical said in a booming voice, “Naut!” she cried, jumping out from behind the door to greet the old sailor.

“Did ye get the message to yer family n’ all?” Nautical said, smiling down at the little orange filly in front of him, patting her on the head with his forehoof. The filly grinned, “Yup! Is this the chump yous’ was talking about?” Octavia glared at the filly, “I have a name-”

“Ah, Miss Melody. I hope my niece wasn’t detaining you for long, we’ve been expecting you.” a pale-yellow coated mare interrupted, her pale blue eyes causing Octavia to forget about berating the ill-mannered filly. “There are family matters to discuss, but those can wait until morning. The servants have prepared a room and bath for you.” Madame Orange continued, holding Octavia in her icy gaze, “do make use of the latter mention, you smell like brine, and that’s hardly professional. The servants will take care of your garments.” Octavia took a subtle whiff of her lapel, it reeked of dead fish and seawater. Octavia lowered her gaze and gave a small smile, “will do ma’am.”

So, back to work now?

Oh good, they’re back. Octavia thought ruefully as she sank into the warm water of the bathtub. “Later, I figure I’d best take advantage of the break while I can.” she replied to the offending mental voice, as she sank her head beneath the soapy water.

Keep your eyes open Octavia, you can never know what these guys are planning.

Octavia resurfaced, “honestly, If they were planning something, they would have done it by now. Maybe they would have had the butler drop a plugged-in toaster to fry me while I relaxed. No, right now I’m more of an asset to them, considering I’ve been taken off the visible board.”

Octavia, a lot of things are going to change now. This may be your last chance to really rest. Indulge yourself a little, maybe ask if Madame Orange has a cello on hand?

Octavia sank down in the water a little, “I’m not sure if I could, even if she did, I’m not sure if I’d be able to. Not like this.” she muttered, blowing away a small bunch of suds that had gotten too close to her nose.

Aren’t you afraid of what’ll happen if the cops catch up to you?

“Shut up.”

You know what’s going to happen to Vinyl after this. Dead or not, Lyra won’t care as long as she can get a shiny new pawn.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!”

Octavia had gotten sick of the water. Toweling herself off, she left the bathroom and jumped onto the luxury, king-sized bed, courtesy of the Oranges’ white-collar crime syndicate.

How did the prohibition start anyway? Everypony didn’t just go crazy by drinking cider… right?

Octavia pulled the blankets over herself, hoping to shut them out, to no avail. “No one knows why. There were no talks, no discussions, nothing. Celestia gave the order and hasn’t spoken to the public since. Sure there have been rumors and conspiracy theories, but nopony has a solid answer, not even Luna.”

Out of curiosity… do you know who we are? How can you hear us? You’re not crazy, if that’s what you’re wondering.

Octavia grinned, “No, I’m fairly certain I lost my mind ages ago, why else would I join the mafia? You can’t exist, it’s simply not possible. Besides, can you imagine what it’d be like to expose myself to anyone? I’d never be able to do that. So you can’t be real.” Octavia began to hug her tail and rock back and forth, “You’re not real because it’s not possible. It’s not possible. You don’t exist. It’s not possible. It’s not possible. It’s not possible. It’s not possible.”

What a shame, watching yourself fall apart. You can never play the cello again, it will never be real to you ever again. You can pull the bow across the strings as effortlessly as you can end a life, but you won’t ever be able to return to the mare you once were. Tragic.

Octavia simply rolled over and let sleep take her, tears streaming down her face the whole time.

Author's Note

Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter of my first story ever! (Technically, it's just what was covered in the original tumblr with a few things changed, but it's important to future events, so bear with me please!) But nevertheless, if you enjoyed it, please comment below and share your criticisms please! That is all!

The Sounds of Chaos

Ask Mafia Octavia, Act 2: The Sounds of Chaos

The dark sky flashed with lightning, illuminating the dark back alley for but a brief moment before unrelenting darkness obscured the scene once more. However, this brief moment was enough to show the white, unicorn mare as she made a mad dash through the abandoned halls that were the maze of back alleys that wove in and out of each of Ponyville’s city blocks. Suddenly, she tripped and fell face first into a dark, stinky puddle that the mare was certain wasn’t just water from the sheets of rain falling from the warring heavens up above. Come on, Vinyl. she screamed in her head, Move! Finally picking herself up, she once again began her panicked flight down the alley, the sound of her pursuer’s hoofbeats behind her. Vinyl Scratch’s wide, panic-filled scarlet eyes scanning the walls for something, anything that could aid her escape from the gun-wielding pony pursuing her. She dashed around a corner only to have her heart sink as she stared directly at a grey cement wall, covered in graffiti and ragged prohibition and propaganda posters. Heart pounding, Vinyl spun around and made an attempt to backtrack and find another way out of the alleys and onto the main road to freedom, only to have all her vain hopes dashed as her pursuer rounded the corner a second later. “Sorry kid, but its curtains for you.” said the shadowy pony, leveling her large handgun at the panting, terrified mare’s chest. “Any last words?” She asked, pulling back the hammer on her gun. Vinyl’s only response was to back away slowly, eyes pleading to Celestia, Luna, hell, even Discord to get her out of this situation, but no help came, no knight in shining armor, no random passerby, no champion of justice showed themselves to the panic-stricken DJ as her eyes zeroed in on the weapon that would very soon end her. “If you’ve got nothing to say, then I guess this is goodbye. Its nothing personal, just business.” The shadowy mare stated matter-of-factly, “see you in hell, kid.” said the mare, squeezing the trigger as lightning once again illuminated her features: light turquoise coat, with topaz eyes and a white-and-green mane. Time seemed to slow for Vinyl Scratch as she took in everything and nothing at the same time: the click of the hammer striking the bullet, the resulting explosion, the bloody glee on the face of her killer, and the hammer blow to the chest as the bullet severed her aorta, causing a large, red rose to bloom on Vinyl’s shirt, eyes widening as the bullet lodged itself next to her still frantically beating heart as it attempted to continue functioning. Somepony…. Anypony…. please… Tavi… help… and suddenly the world went black as the sound of thunder covered any evidence of Vinyl Scratch’s demise.

Octavia Melody woke with a start, throwing off her covers, eyes wide reaching for the cello case which contained her trusty tommy gun, only to find that it was nowhere to be found. Panicking, she frantically took cover behind her bed frame as the incessant rapping on the door to the room continued. Finally calming down and remembering that she was in the guest room in the Orange family’s estate in Manehattan, she let out the breath she’d been holding for the past minute. Stifling a yawn, she walked up to the door and opened it slowly, “Yes? What is it?” she asked sheepishly, remembering the noise she had just made, opened the door to find a dapper older unicorn stallion in a tuxedo jacket carrying a tea service in his magic. He bowed, “Good Morning, Ms. Melody. My name is Byrne, the estate’s caretaker. I have been instructed to inform you that you are to make yourself ready, and to meet Mistress Orange in the parlor. I shall be waiting outside your door to escort you.” He said in a perfect British accent, bowing again, he started down the hall again, walking on his hind legs muttering to himself about where that child Babs had gotten to again.

Octavia closed the door and slumped against it, heaving a heavy sigh while rubbing between her eyes, trying to separate her most recent nightmare from her current reality. Vinyl was safe, she had to be. Octavia had given Lyra and Bonbon what they wanted to know, and the whole Flim Flam gang thought she was in he bottom of Manehattan harbor, “sleeping with the fishes” as it were. There’s no reason for them to go after her Octavia, she knows nothing and they know that they can't hurt a “dead” pony. Right now I should take things one step at a time, meet with the Oranges and face whatever punishment the family gives me. At least they can’t kill me, I am ‘dead’ after all. Finding her clothes on a table next to the large window, Octavia stepped into the shower again.

Stepping into the hall, fully dressed in her dress shirt, trench coat, and fedora, Octavia stepped out into the hall where Byrne was waiting. It had taken longer than she expected to get ready, what with the voices in her head asking questions, and her unruly black mane still stiff from her not-so-pleasant midnight swim in Manehattan harbor. Her eyes had been red and puffy for some reason, as if she had been crying all night. Although, given her nightmare and the night she’d had, Octavia could overlook the temporary moment of weakness as she needed to put on her best Hit-mare mask that she’d forgotten she was wearing until last night. Recent events had crumbled it slightly, but her time in the bath and copious amounts of moisturizing shampoo had given her the time needed to mend it again.

With a single nod as greeting to Byrne they both set off for the parlor and Octavia’s uncertain future.

On the way to the parlor, Octavia could make out two heated voices coming from the parlor. As they entered through the large double doors, a scowling Madame Orange was ordering a pony with a dark grey coat out of the room. Byrne cleared his throat, “Mistress Orange, Octavia Melody has arrived to join you for the morning tea.” He said, bowing as he quietly slipped out, not so much as a whisper of noise as his large frame exited the room.

“That is quite the capable caretaker you have, Mrs. Orange.” Octavia remarked, if she hadn’t seen him leave, she would have thought he was still standing right behind her.

“Yes, he was actually a special-forces pony during the war, you see. Not so much as an unnecessary whisper with that one.” said Mrs. Orange, instantly regaining her composure from her previous ruffled state. “Not only does he keep our secrets Miss Melody, he is also a most capable enforcer should we ever have need of one.”

Octavia suppressed a shudder as the thinly-veiled threat seemed to drop the opulent parlor’s temperature by ten degrees, Mrs. Orange’s pale blue eyes seeming to bore deeply into the former musician’s soul and lay coiled there, like some venomous serpent. “I guess looks can be deceiving then.” Octavia said, choosing her words wisely, as much to change the subject as anything else, she asked “Where is Mr. Orange? I was under the impression that we were to be discussing matters of the Family right now.”

“My husband is… indisposed at the moment” Madame Orange replied after a short pause, “he’s currently off conducting some business at another location, but enough of that, I’ve called you down for tea and business, not for dealing with my husband’s itinerary.” she said, gesturing towards the silver platter with fine china cups and a stout teapot, steam was still swirling out of the spout.

After serving the tea, both Octavia and Mrs. Orange sat down in their respective plush chairs and began to sip their tea. “Is it to your liking Miss Melody?” The pale orange mare inquired, her face betraying nothing, other than the fact that she had visibly relaxed. However, her eyes still had the same soul-piercing quality they had before. “It’s delicious,” replied Octavia, taking another sip from her pale cup, the scent of peppermint and cloves dancing through her nostrils. “Did you make this?” asked Octavia, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m afraid that I can’t take credit for this concoction Miss Melody, yet another of Byrne’s works. He refuses to share the recipe with anyone.” Octavia said nothing as she inhaled slowly and took another sip, the herbal tea both soothing her and warming her insides. “Does he have a name for this blend?” Octavia asked.

“Yes, I believe he called it: Death’s Embrace number five when I last asked him.” Replied Mrs. Orange, “hardly a fitting name for tea, but one can’t argue with the result.” Octavia once again suppressed a shudder and took another sip, her hoof shaking slightly as she bought the warm cup of Death’s Embrace to her lips.

When the two mares had finished their tea, and Byrne had ghosted in and out with the tray, Madame Orange turned to face Octavia directly. “Now then Miss Melody, I’m sure that you're aware that you’ve fallen somewhat out of favor with our Apple family counterparts in Ponyville. Luckily for you however, Applejack has seen fit to give you a second chance given the fact that we may need some, how did she put it? ‘Help from beyond the grave’?”

Madame Orange flashed a cold smirk at her own joke, “The point being this: thanks to the information you leaked to the Flim Flam gang, they now have a stranglehold on all the major smuggling routes that our Apple counterparts use to move their cider. Not only that, but every major member of Jack’s people are being targeted by Flim and Flam’s lieutenants, two of which I believe you are already acquainted with, am I correct?” Lyra and Bonbon, Octavia’s grip on the chair tightened.

“And now we return to the matter at hand Miss Melody, your future.” Said Madame Orange, snapping the grey mare out of her daze. “Applejack has asked that we provide a ‘ghost’ of sorts, a seemingly neutral third party to target the lieutenants of their rivals, the deal is simple: we have Byrne train you, and in return you will assist us by ridding the underworld of these unprofessional ruffians that dare encroach on our territory.” Madame Orange said, her voice dripping with venom.

“I take it that Jack’s not the only one with Flim Flam problems then?” Octavia replied, suddenly feeling very uneasy around the orange-hued mare whose eyes gave off an aura of pure bloodlust at that moment.

“Yes, Miss Melody, their ambition threatens us as well, so we are more than happy in lending a helping hoof to protect this particular investment.” An investment, how cold of you, Madame Orange. Octavia thought as she nodded slowly, keeping her mouth shut so that her hostess’ now apparent bloodthirsty nature wouldn’t be directed at her.

“I understand ma’am, when do we begin?” Octavia asked as soon as Mrs. Orange had regained her composure once again, “why, right now of course!” She said, gesturing with a hoof, ”Byrne, if you would be so kind.”

Octavia didn’t even hear the stallion enter the room, or even a whisper as the hypodermic needle entered her neck and injected its contents into her bloodstream. “Sweet dreams, Miss Melody.” Said Madame Orange as Octavia began to lose consciousness, the room fading into a blur of colors, “you’re going to need to hang onto those while Byrne is busy with you.” And with that, Octavia passed out.

**************************************Three Months Later***************************************

Vinyl Scratch flew through the air and landed on her back on the hard concrete floor with a sickening thud, knocking the wind out of her. It had been three months since she had begun her training in the less subtle arts of being a bootlegger under Lyra and Bonbon’s teachings. Three months since her once best friend had tried to kill her. As Vinyl scrambled to get up, her assailant’s hoof gave her a swift kick in her side before stepping on the winded mare’s chest and placing a wooden combat knife against her neck. “Dead again.” Remarked Bonbon, not even a trickle of emotion in her cold voice as she helped her student off the floor.

“Oh come on, Scratch! Why are you so weak?” exclaimed Lyra as she hopped off the shipping crate she had been perched on during Vinyl’s regularly scheduled beatdown that somehow qualified as ‘training’ in the eyes of the somewhat trigger-happy turquoise mare. “What the hell do you plan to do once Octavia finds you huh? Just roll over and die? Or are you gonna run and hide in another alley, like when I found you hiding behind a trash can? Make no mistake, Octavia won’t hesitate to kill anyone, even her mare-friend if she’s a liability! In this world, liabilities are just as good as a giant ‘shoot me!’ plastered to your chest!” ranted Lyra, leaning in until she was just inches from the white mare’s muzzle, “Don’t hesitate, not even for a second. Hesitate and you’re dead, simple as that.”

“Don’t you think I know that!?” Vinyl screamed, her body trembling in rage, “don’t you think I don't still have nightmares about that day!? When I learned that my best friend was out to kill me!? AND USED HERSELF AS BAIT!?” Lyra back-hoofed her, “what are you going to do about it then? When she comes for you, you can’t afford to do anything half-assed! Mess up once and Octavia will kill you for it! So I’ll ask you again: WHAT. WILL. YOU. DO.”

“I’ll end her,”

“I’m sorry, what?” Lyra said, leaning in again,

“I’ll kill that bitch! I’ll end her just like she tried to end me! I’ll kill her with my own hooves!” Vinyl shouted, rubbing her sore cheek and glaring up at her mentor, “Then prove it,” Lyra said, handing her the wooden knife again, “try to kill me then, if you think you’re hard enough” Vinyl lunged as soon as the knife was in her grasp, aiming for the other mare’s jugular vein, Lyra smirked and suddenly, Vinyl found herself on the ground again, gasping for breath.

“Is that all you’ve got? You’ll make this too easy for Octavia, you might as well handcuff yourself to a bed frame for old times’ sake and make it easier for her!” Lyra said, sneering at the downed unicorn.

“SHUT UP!” Vinyl screamed, lunging again, launching a flurry of wild stabs and cuts, Vinyl was going to shut her up if it was the last thing she did. No, not the last thing I do, she thought as she continued her assault on her mentor, Lyra isn’t worth that, the last thing I’ll do… is kill Octavia!

Suddenly, it was as if the world went still, Vinyl’s rage seemed to fade into the background and she saw everything, Lyra herself looked as if she was moving through honey.

Vinyl’s mind went cold and she knew what to do to win.

Vinyl sliced the air with her knife, she knew that Lyra would duck under it, and that’s when she struck. Dropping low, Vinyl swept her hind leg into Lyra’s now off-balance back hooves, causing the turquoise mare to fall backwards, hitting her head on the edge of the same shipping crate that she had been sitting on earlier. Struggling to retain consciousness, Lyra began to stagger to her her hooves when she felt something placed against her neck and a cold, calculated voice that cut through the daze better than a knife: “dead”.

Lyra grinned as she looked up at her student, Vinyl’s scarlet eyes were cold, hard, and filled with bloodlust, not a hint of an emotion on her face as she waited for Lyra to submit. Lyra grinned, “Good, you’re ready” and with that, Vinyl’s murderous expression faded and she smiled, helping Lyra to her hooves.

“Welcome to the Flim Flam gang, rookie.”

Vinyl scrunched her nose as the foul stench of tobacco smoke hit her nose. Today was finally the day she would be meeting her new bosses, the Flim Flam brothers. She had heard stories of their ruthlessness and lack of restraint when someone crossed them, and what she witnessed in the dark room in the back of one of the brothers’ speakeasies served as a grim reminder of that fact. Tied up in the corner, was a bloody, yellow-coated stallion in a brown leather jacket and wearing a worn stetson on his head, One of his eyes was swollen shut and he had cuts and bruises all over his yellow coat.

“Hey Scratch, you coming?” asked Lyra, tapping Vinyl’s shoulder and snapping the white mare back into reality. “The bosses are waiting,” she said, gesturing to another door on the other side of the room which was guarded by a bored-looking burly earth pony wielding a sawed-off shotgun. Taking a glance back at the bound and gagged prisoner, Vinyl followed Lyra into the next room.

If the smell of tobacco was simply unpleasant in the room before this one, this room was absolutely unbearable. Vinyl had to fight back a gag as both she and Lyra entered the room that was tinged blue through the haze of cigar smoke, the two perpetrators of this blatant disregard for air purity sat in wooden chairs at the other end of a large, round table littered with discarded playing cards. A large handgun was resting on the table next to its owner Flim, the younger of the brothers. His elder brother Flam, sat across from him, his straw showpony’s hat covering his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, puffing his cigar while his ever-present BAR machine gun leaned against the wall behind him.

“Is this the new rookie you told us about Lyra?” Asked Flim, leaning forward to take a closer look through the haze of cigar smoke.

“Yes boss, this is Vinyl Scratch, she’s a little green, but she’s trained and ready,” replied Lyra.

“What do you think, brother?” asked Flim, the Elder stallion raised his hat with one hoof, regarding Vinyl with a look that suddenly made her feel very uncomfortable in her own skin. Almost as if he was deciding how best to dissect her. His piercing gaze swept over her, finally focusing on her shades that might as well have not been on her face at all. Grinning toothily, Flam nodded, stroking the mass of red hair on his upper lip, “gotta say, Lyra knows how to pick ‘em.” He said, his expression suddenly as jovial as his brother’s. “That settles it,” said Flim, “you’re hired!” finished Flam. Vinyl released the breath she didn’t realize that she had been holding. Lyra patted her protégé on the back, “I knew you had it in ya! Not everyone gets outright approval from the boss before their first job!” Vinyl blinked, confused as to what had just happened. This situation was drastically different from the tales of the ruthless mob bosses that had been terrorizing Ponyville ever since the prohibition started, the stories of what the two grinning unicorn stallions had supposedly done to those who got too close to them was enough to give Vinyl nightmares on her train ride to the small town during her search for her once-best friend. The smiling group of ponies in the room with her didn’t seem like a band of murderous bootleggers. But rather, a family who had just shared a funny story.

“I’d say that this is cause for a drink!” said Flam, grinning at his brother as he rolled a keg over from a corner of the room. “Don’t be shy, have some FlimFlam brand cider on the house!” both brothers said in unison.

The revelries didn’t last very long however, because not long after the third pint of cider had made its way down the throats of the four unicorns, that a large boom shook the building, followed by a brief, but unmistakeable chatter of a Thomson submachine gun.

Suddenly, all was silent, all four revelers glanced at each other, each frozen in place by the sudden interruption to their race to the bottom of the keg. “What the hay was that!?” exclaimed Lyra, drawing her revolver, swaying as the effects of the cider took hold. Steadying herself, Vinyl dashed for the door, only to find a room completely different than what it was before.

The previously smoky room had once been a scene of barely maintained order now looked as if Discord himself had coaxed a tornado through it, resulting in the back wall being blown inward in what had been a cascade of scorched wood, brick, and plaster, the burly guard that had been stationed outside the door was now a corpse, completely riddled with bullet holes. In place of the stallion that had previously been tied up, was a pile of cut up rope fragments and a small white calling card that read in silvery script: Courtesy of Windigo.

“Lyra,” said a new voice, shattering the silence, the one word dripping with enough venom to make a cobra jealous, “find whoever did this, drag their corpse back to us if you have to, but make sure that they regret their decision to cross us.” Flam said.

“A-and the escaped prisoner?” Vinyl asked, not sure she wanted to hear their reply.

“Expendable,” both brothers said in unison.

“Understood,” said Lyra, grinning with a savage glee as she raised her revolver, and a pair of slim, silvery handguns which she tossed to Vinyl. “Come on, kid!” Lyra said, eyes flashing like a filly who was just about to tear into her Hearts Warming presents, “We have a ghost to catch!”

Vinyl Scratch took one last, long look at the bullet-ridden corpse of what had once been a living, breathing pony before following after her mentor at a fast gallop through the still-smoking hole in the wall and out into the back alleys of Ponyville.

Braeburn Apple struggled to keep up with his rescuer, despite the fact that she was only walking. He could tell that the masked pony in front of him was female from her build, but that was all he could glean from his cursory glances at her. Everything about this mysterious mare was covered up, aside from her mane, all body parts that could have been used to identify his savior were covered either by the trench coat and hat she wore, or the obviously enchanted white mask, whose eye holes were glowing with a blue eldritch glow which obscured her eyes and made her look rather intimidating. Not only that, but she never made a sound when she moved, traveling as nothing more than a whisper. Sometimes she would disappear from Braeburn’s field of view entirely, causing the battered stallion to frantically search his surroundings, only to turn and find the masked mare standing right next to him, head cocked to the side as if examining a specimen on a microscope slide. This always succeeded in making Braeburn increasingly uneasy around the mare in the white mask.

“You know,” Braeburn said nervously, “I like a midnight stroll with a fine lady like yourself as much as the next stallion, but some reciprocated conversation would be greatly appreciated ma’am.” The mare just turned and stared at him, she may not have said anything, but the message was clear: shut. up.

Braeburn just swallowed dryly and complied.

They trotted along down the dark back alleys of Ponyville for a time, Braeburn couldn’t tell how long, until they reached a large sewer covering, the large metal plate was already moved to the side. “Through here,” the mare said, her mask distorting her voice, causing it to have a strange, ethereal quality to it. “The Apple family will be waiting down that tunnel, just keep walking until you see the grate. And take this,” She said, handing the confused stallion a small emergency flare, “light it when you reach the rendezvous point.” She said, beckoning him to jump into the tunnel.

“What about you, miss?” The yellow stallion called back as he was halfway down the tunnel entrance. The only reply he received was the sound of a large metal plate sliding into place. “Well, she’s a cheerful one…” Braeburn muttered as he started down the tunnel to freedom.

Octavia Melody heaved a sigh of relief, she was finally alone. Putting on the whole “cryptic savior” act that she was ordered to put on along with her mask was more exhausting than she had expected. Applejack had said it was for disguising who she was, especially now that her usefulness only lasted as long as the façade of Octavia Melody being among the deceased. After all, dead mares tell no tales.

Nor do they go around masquerading in a trench coat, blowing up mafia hideouts and saving hostages for their secret mafia boss. Octavia thought, allowing herself a rare smile at the absurdity of her situation.

The past three months had not been easy, Byrne was a harsh teacher, as soon as Octavia had woken up from her drug-induced slumber in what would be her home, dojo, and torture chamber for three months. The once soft-spoken butler had begun to push her beyond all physical and mental limits, not shying away from punctuating his verbal lessons with more... physical ones. All throughout her training, the voices in her head had never stopped, sometimes giving her warnings in combat, sometimes asking her about what she was thinking, sometimes tormenting her with existential crisis bull that she swore they likely ripped from a sappy crime novel, but they had never stopped.

Even now they were still buzzing in her skull, asking about her escape plans, pressuring her for info on what her job entailed, telling her to get a move on before the Flim Flam pursuers caught up to her, constantly rattling through her mind-

ENOUGH! Octavia mentally kicked herself for dwelling on such things, Byrne had taught her better than that.

Thinking about the voices only made them louder, but they did have a good point: she needed to make herself scarce before whatever pursuers that had been sent caught up to her and made the horrible mistake of trying to apprehend their quarry.

With that thought, Octavia began her long, roundabout dash back to her own escape route, blending with the shadows as easily as one could slip in and out of their favorite jacket. That was one aspect of her training that she always appreciated, becoming the Apple family’s pet ghost had its advantages. With a final grin, The Windigo of the Apple family vanished like smoke into the night.

*************************************Back At Sweet Apple Acres****************************************

Applejack slammed her hoof down on the desk, causing the old wood to groan in the process. She was currently staring daggers at the cringing yellow stallion who was currently trying to hide behind his battered hat before the enraged Don of the Apple family. “Damn it Braeburn! You nearly got yourself killed! And for what? So y’all can party in Appaloosa for a while? Explain yourself, NOW.” Applejack said, slamming her hoof on the protesting desk again, drawing another cringe from her irresponsible cousin.

Octavia stifled a snicker at the panicked stallion’s reaction to her boss, it was funny, that much was certain, but it would be a poor showing if the “Windigo” of the Apple family, their top agent and enforcer to start breaking out in hysterics during a sit-down with a troublesome member of the family, even though she wished she could have a picture of Braeburn’s face at that moment.

“N-now see here Jack, I wasn’t expecting no trouble in Appaloosa, we own most of the town and all…” Braeburn stammered, but was cut off by another slam on Applejack’s desk. Octavia could swear she heard the old timbers crack at the sheer force of Applejack’s hoof. “I don’t care about excuses, Braeburn! You know better than to jus’ run off out into the open like that! If Windigo hadn’t found you when she did, what do y’all think woulda’ happened to you!?” Braeburn raised a hoof to reply, but Applejack cut him off again, “dead, that’s what! Y’all would’ve been interrogated and then dumped into the nearest lake with a block of cement tied to you!”

Octavia winced inwardly at the mention of the mafia’s preferred method of a “disappearing act” that usually proved all too effective, usually. Octavia was likely one of the only exceptions to survive that experience, but that didn’t mean she would wish it on anyone, even the idiot sitting in front of her enraged boss would probably be spared that fate if Octavia was told to make him disappear.

“As of right now, you are to stay here DO NOT go anywhere outside the house, understand?” Braeburn only nodded and dejectedly exited the room, suddenly finding the floor to be very interesting to look at.

Applejack took a deep, calming breath, “you can take off that mask now, sugar cube.” Applejack said, gesturing to the now freshly-vacated seats in front of the highly-abused desk. Octavia complied, lifting the white mask off her face, revealing once again her violet eyes and grey coat.

Setting the terrifying disguise down on the desk, Octavia sat in the chair opposite to her boss. Ever since becoming the nameless ghost of the Apple family, Octavia had only taken orders from Applejack, as only she, her sister Applebloom, Big Macintosh, and the mysterious “Smith” that seemed to be the real brains behind the Apple family business knew that Octavia Melody was still among the living. Any information on her involvement in Apple family affairs was kept strictly confidential, and leaked only on a need-to-know basis. In this case, there had been no choice in the matter as Jack had wanted Braeburn returned alive, anything else was simply collateral damage.

A long, weary sigh once again broke the silence of Applejack’s office, Octavia snapped out of her thoughts to focus once more on Jack, what she saw in place of the feared and respected Don of the notorious Apple family was a weary, overworked mare who simply needed some rest from whatever stress was eating away at her. “Good work tonight, Windigo.” Applejack said, turning to face her subordinate, “I see the mask Zecora made you works well.” she continued, tapping on the wooden face in front of her.

“The clairvoyance enchantment on it helps quite a bit, as does the voice change that comes with it.” Octavia replied, glancing at the unsightly piece of painted wood with disgust, “I just wish it wasn’t so…demonic.”

Applejack chuckled, “That’s to be expected when the only non-unicorn magic user is allowed to make a mask from scratch and told to make it look as spooky as possible, I guess.”

The zebra in question was a mare by the name of Zecora, who by all accounts, was a rather odd pony. For one thing, she lived deep in the forest on the outskirts of Ponyville, living mostly off the land in what had to be one of the most inhospitable areas in the region. She was also highly eccentric, always speaking in rhyme with her strange accent. Finally, she was the only non-unicorn capable of performing high-level enchantments, no one knew how she did it, but her enchantments could put most unicorn magic students to shame. Zecora was someone almost everyone knew about, but never bought up. But for those who sought her out, she was always ready to lend out her services… for a price, but it was typically a high price to pay. Octavia didn’t know what the Apples had paid for her obviously costly mask, but she knew that it was also better not to ask.

“Although…” Jack said, allowing her voice to trail off, “mind tellin’ me where y’all got those demolition charges you used? I know we didn’t give you any.” Ponyfeathers! Octavia swore inwardly, forcing a smile she replied, “dead mares tell no tales, boss. Besides, it’s better this way, the cops will be launching an investigation into the pub that I kindly opened the door for. Flam and Flam won’t be getting any more profits from there ever again.”

Applejack chucked again, “I guess I can’t trouble the dead for their secrets, just as long as they don’t cause trouble for the livin’.” she mused, “as to where y’all set the charges, I’m guessin’ the mask told ya’?” Applejack asked, “Yes, it’s actually more handy than I thought.” It was true, the clairvoyance enchantment highlighted anything the wearer wanted to see, as well as granting perfect night vision. Enemy vitals, locations of disguised entrances, structural weaknesses, et cetera. It was truly the perfect assassin’s weapon, which made Octavia hate it even more.

That was another truth she could always count on to help keep her partially sane in her new world filled with blood money and guns: she hated everything about it. She would rather just play her cello for all to hear in the nearest local pub, but that was no longer an option with the prohibition, and with no other job skills, a decent honest living became nigh impossible for a single mare whose special talent was music.

She would have left her current occupation a long time ago if it didn’t pay so well and the fact that disobeying the Don can, and will, be very bad for one’s health. And now Octavia Melody was permanently submerged in the criminal underworld as the Windigo, a name that would soon strike fear into the hearts of ponies everywhere, and would appear at the top of every hit list. She couldn’t leave, couldn’t make a sound, and couldn’t erase the blood on her hooves. She was expected to stay in her crypt until she was summoned again by the Apples.

Octavia Melody was dead to the world, and she hated every moment of it.

Author's Note

Aaaaaaaand scene!

There you have it my little bronies, the beginning of the main story of Mafia Octavia!

And yes, Octavia basically just became pony-mafia-batmare, what of it?

As always, please leave your constructive criticism down below, like, follow, et cetera!

Crossroads

Mafia Octavia Act 3: Crossroads

Detective Twilight Sparkle of the Ponyville Police Department, badge number 1247, slumped down at her desk, the file from her most recent case open on her desk, which incidentally, was also the cause of her most recent headache. The brown manilla file wasn't very thick actually, a testament to how little headway the frazzled purple unicorn and her once-bouncy partner Pinkie Pie had made in the most bizarre, and aggravating, case of their career.

Twilight shut the file to gaze at the cover of the file pensively. Stamped on the front cover were the two words: TOP SECRET in large, red block letters. They mocked her, silently judging the best that the Gangster-Incident Division had to offer. Under the offending letters, was the current case’s name: The Windigo Killings.

They had started about a month ago, when the back wall of a barber shop was destroyed using well-placed demolition charges, analysis of the bomb fragments had revealed that they were military-grade, the same kind that the combat division of the royal guard would use during the last war. The hole left behind exposed an executive room in the back of a deserted speakeasy, the only patron left by the time the police had arrived was the bullet-ridden corpse of a bulky earth pony who looked as though he had been gunned down while reaching for the discarded shotgun that was lying next to him, his blood hadn’t even had time to dry.

The one piece of solid evidence that had been left behind was a single, plain, white calling card reading: Courtesy of Windigo in silvery script. Since then, more victims had shown up all over Ponyville, although the cause of death wasn't always the same: some had been given a coup de gracé right between the eyes, some had their throats slit, some were hanged, had their necks snapped, and one had even seemed as if he had been burnt alive. The only constants to these murders was the appearance of the calling card, and the fact that all of them had been either higher-ranking members of the Flim-Flam mafia, or their subordinates.

But this was where the aggravation came into play: no matter the situation, no matter the method used in the killings, there was never any trace that somepony else had been on the scene before the police. Aside from bullet holes and the white calling card, as well as any other tools, such as explosives or piano wire nooses, nothing had ever been recovered. The only other modus operandi was that each of the victims had the word “guilty” carved somewhere on their bodies. It looks like we really are dealing with vengeful ghost, Twilight thought to herself, This “Windigo” really lives up to his name.

Twilight’s thoughts were interrupted when the door to her office burst open, revealing her deputy and assistant, Spike.

“Twilight,” he said calmly, “They found another body.”

“So?” She said dismissively, “there won't be any new evidence to collect, 'Windigo' is too careful to leave anything behind. Just let forensics bring me the report when they’re done.”

“That’s not why I came here Twilight,” Spike said, “The situation is different from the others.”

Twilight just sighed, and grabbed her things before following the young dragon out the door. This was going to be another long night.

***********************************A Few Hours Earlier***********************************

Vinyl Scratch yawned, completely bored out of her mind. Her first real job as a solo hitmare for Flim and Flam wasn’t proving to be very interesting, she was supposed to wait at a warehouse in downtown Ponyville for one of Flim and Flam’s more… valued lieutenants.

The stallion’s name was Senshi, his strange name reminiscent of his homeland far to the east of Equestria. He was also very late, which pissed the free-spirited Vinyl off quite considerably. While she waited, Vinyl allowed her thoughts to wander. She thought of the past four months, and how lucky she was that she even made it past her first night in Ponyville. She thought of her once best friend, Octavia. Where was she? What was she planning? Does she care that her “loose end” had joined a rival mafia? How close was she to finding her prey? And, would she enjoy having to kill her?

Vinyl shook her head, banishing the ridiculous question from her mind. Of course she would, Vinyl thought angrily, she used our “friendship” as bait to pull me closer so she could put a bullet in me! Why wouldn’t someone like that enjoy my death!? Stop being stupid, Vinyl. In this world, it’s kill or be killed. That’s the life of anyone on this side of Equs, the only thing that matters is that I don’t hesitate, not even for a moment.

Yes, Lyra had taught her that. Mercy was a luxury for the weak, one that no pony could afford in the underworld, so when Vinyl got her hooves on Octavia, she would do just that. There would be no forgiveness, no mercy, only blood. And Vinyl didn’t care whose it was, because after she finally found Octavia, only one of them-

“Hello little one, were you waiting long?” said a deep voice behind the white mare.

Vinyl jumped, “Agh! What the hay, man!” She exclaimed as she shot to her hooves, drawing her twin handguns and turning to face the stallion who had snuck up behind her, an amused expression on his face.

“My apologies little one,” He said politely, bowing his head, “My name is Senshi, I assume that you are the one that Flim and Flam sent?”

“Yeah, that’s me, sorry for shouting,” Vinyl said, stowing her guns in her two shoulder holsters and taking off her shades, “my name is Vinyl Scratch,” Vinyl said, extending a hoof, which Senshi shook firmly. Very firmly.

“Ah, you're the new member!” Senshi said jovially, “I heard quite a lot about you from Lyra-dono!”

Lyra… dono? Must be a cultural thing, Vinyl mused, taking her first good look at the strange stallion. He was slightly taller than the average stallion, pretty lanky actually, however his skinny limbs and torso rippled with lean muscle under his scarlet fur. His dark black mane was messy, as if he never bothered to style it, and one of his brown eyes had a scar over it. But the strangest thing about him was his attire - he seemed to be wearing something similar to a bathrobe and sash. He also didn’t seem to be carrying a weapon with him, something that should be a massive oversight to anyone in the underworld. But Senshi looked perfectly at ease, a warm smile on his muzzle.

“You’re scarlet eyes are rather unique, quite beautiful actually,” Senshi continued, his smile only getting warmer as Vinyl began to feel her face heat up with the blush. This was one of the highest-ranked killers in the Flim-Flam mafia? The very same organization that trained their assassins to be mindless killing machines and considered civilians “expendable”? Vinyl expected to see his type at high-society functions in Canterlot, flirting with fancy noblemares, not in some downtown warehouse with a neophyte mafia hitmare.

Senshi just rubbed his chin with a hoof and grinned, “You were wondering why I allied myself with masters Flim and Flam's organization, yes? It’s written all over your face, little one!” He said, bursting out laughing. Vinyl balked at the unexpected reaction, stunned that a pony like this could be stained by the kind of life they lived. Or that such a pony existed in the first place.

“Now then,” and with those two syllables, the comfortable atmosphere between the two ponies vanished like smoke, “I assume this is not a social visit, why have they sent you to me?” Senshi said, his voice suddenly growing cold. Vinyl suppressed a shudder, she still wasn’t used to how all of the family’s members could suddenly change from somepony you would meet on the street, to someone who looked as if they would rip you to pieces without a second thought. Even after a month of this gig as a hitmare for Flim and Flam, the sudden change still unnerved her.

Vinyl swallowed nervously, “yeah, that’s right. I guess you’ve already heard the name 'Windigo'?” Vinyl asked in a timid voice.

“Ah, yes. The vengeful ghost that haunts our organization, indeed I have heard of him. In fact, I have always wished to cross blades with someone so skilled as to survive a month of eliminating our comrades.” Senshi said, his infectious grin returning to his face.

“Yeah? Well you're in luck buddy, ‘crossing blades' with the Windigo is the order straight from the bosses, they want you to track him down and take him out.” Vinyl said in her most official tone, which still made her sound like a terrified school filly. She mentally kicked herself for being terrified of someone who was supposedly on her side in this insane ghost hunt.

Over the past month, dozens of grunts working for Flim and Flam had been systematically caught, questioned, and slaughtered. Several of the family’s lieutenants had been killed, thereby forcing Flim and Flam to be more covert with their day-to-day dealings in the underworld. Using their shiny new hit ponies as messengers was one of those countermeasures, less knowledge of how they operated, and easy to replace if they were killed. It was the usual, cruel way of the criminal underworld. But effective, results were all that mattered after all.

However, in this case, the results were not good at all. A full month of investigations, losses of family members, and much flexing of influence had uncovered absolutely nothing, it was as if the Windigo really was a vengeful spirit. One that was bent on nothing short of the complete annihilation of the Flim-Flam mafia.

Whoever this pony was, Flim and Flam were almost desperate to be rid of them, but so far their only reward for their efforts was a higher body count.

The mare in the mask was hollow, the walls of the alleyway below her were hollow, the warehouse she was watching was hollow too. To her, all of Equs looked hollow, and really quite dull, Octavia Melody had forgotten the weight of a pony life, forgotten the feeling of her bow on the strings of her cello, she had forgotten how to feel.

When was the last time she had heard her music?

The target this time was a rather strange unicorn. Apparently, he was once a high-ranking member of a clan of warrior-nobility. Why he had joined the mafia was beyond her, he had no reason to fall into the same darkness she was forced into.

This had intrigued the Windigo of the Apple family, and she wasn’t easily interested in her jobs. She hoped this one would shake her out of the doldrum she’d been in since she had become famous in the underworld nearly a month ago.

Flim and Flam were rightfully miffed at the fact that a single pony had snatched a valuable hostage right from under their noses. The result was a very sizable bounty on the Windigo’s head, dead or alive, spread throughout the underworld.

But it was so dull, none of those amateurish hunters had even managed to put a scratch on her, and in the end she disposed of them like she disposed of all the trash that crossed her, she left their still-warm corpses with her card, as any cordial business pony would. Heh… I’d bet Madame Orange would approve of that, Octavia thought wryly to herself as she slid down a pipe down to the warehouse courtyard below. Yes, she was hollow, but that was all she could be, all that she could be allowed to be.

A warning.

“…scratch…” Said a distant voice, “Miss Scratch, can you hear me?” Senshi said loudly, breaking Vinyl out of her daze. “Oh, sorry sir. What was that?” Vinyl asked, stumbling over her words as she was shaken from her reminiscing.

Senshi chuckled at her display of youthful naïveté, he found it rather fascinating that these new recruits could show so much of what their lives had been like before stepping into the world of killers.

Not Senshi.

No, Senshi had been born into this life. His family came from a long line of killers after all, honorable killers, but killers nonetheless.

Truthfully, he had never been late for this meeting, he had simply been observing the ivory-colored mare as she had bobbed her head to the sound of some sort of inner rhythm, her scarlet eyes had been so far away then.

Those eyes… he knew it was pointless to dwell on it, but her appearance had awoken things that should have been left buried.

Things had been so much simpler then.

Snapping out of his own reverie to see Miss Scratch’s worried stare in his direction, he chuckled again, “I appear to have gotten lost in the past, my apologies, little one” Senshi said with a small bow.

Vinyl shot him a curious glance. “Well then!” Senshi added with his infectious grin, “I will soon be late for another appointment if I don’t hurry! Aloe and Lotus give the best hot stone massages!”

Vinyl rolled her eyes and turned to leave, grinning despite the strangeness of the stallion foreign stallion. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it then,” Vinyl said over her shoulder, “I’ll tell the boss you took the job.”

Senshi watched as the ivory neophyte hitmare left the warehouse, leaving the two occupants to their business.

“You can come out now, I don’t bite little one, but I suspect you might.” He said to no one in particular.

“I very much doubt the first part, Mr. Senshi,” The mare in the mask said, stepping out from behind a shipping crate.

Senshi chuckled, “I suppose I should be thankful that I no longer need to search for you, 'Windigo'. Although I must say, I wasn’t expecting a mare to be behind all of those deaths.”

Octavia snorted behind her mask, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, sir. The only reason you’re still standing is that I’m curious, why would someone with your upbringing join the mafia?” Senshi stared at her incredulously, and then burst out laughing, “That’s it? That’s the reason I still draw breath? ‘Why would I join the mafia’, she asks!”

Suddenly, all his mirth stopped.

It didn’t slow, it didn't wean off, it just stopped.

“Why, indeed.” Senshi said, frowning at the ceiling, his eyes glazing over. “Suffice it to say that I was late, and the price was too big for me to pay.”

Shaking his head, he glanced towards the masked mare in front of him, “but enough reminiscing, its pointless to pine for things that are lost. You have challenged me, and therefore I shall accept.”

Senshi ignited his horn, the red aura casting a crimson haze over the warehouse. “You’ll find that firearms and explosives will be entirely unusable in this area, I detest them, you see. One can never truly feel the weight of the lives they’re taking.” He said, his horn flashing for a second time.

Suddenly, two single-edged swords appeared in front of Senshi.

Octavia cursed inwardly, those were blades generated from the user’s magic. Not many unicorns could so much as cast the spell to make one, let alone ones as large as these. Byrne had explained how truly dangerous weapons like these were. Unicorn soldiers in the last war who could make them were treated as the most elite of their ranks, simply because these blades could even potentially kill beings of pure magic, such as the princesses and Discord, not only that but they would cut through anything that wasn’t enchanted. Aside from her mask, Octavia had nothing she could use to-

One of the two crimson blades floated over to her.

Octavia’s eyes widened under her mask, as she cocked her head to the side, looking questioningly at Senshi, who was eyeing her with an expression she couldn’t quite place.

In his eyes she saw determination, discipline and… excitement? Yes, this stallion was excited at the prospect of entering mortal combat with a known killer, one that had proven to be very good at her job. Despite this, he had handed her a sword that was beyond deadly and told her to come at him.

He was either very brave, stupid, or some perverse combination of the two.

Taking up his sword in her hooves, Octavia dropped down into a low fighting stance, her opponent mirroring her movements.

A huge grin spread across Senshi’s face, “let’s dance!” and with that, he lunged forward, thrusting his blade forward at a speed Octavia hadn’t thought possible for a stallion his size. Had her mask’s clairvoyance enchantment not been predicting the path of the blade, Octavia would have been skewered then and there. Twisting at her midsection, Octavia contorted her body in a desperate attempt to dodge the incoming crimson blade, leading to a small cut on the underside of her chin, the force of it coupled with her feat of flexibility caused her to fall over.

“Cut yourself shaving?” Senshi asked over his shoulder, grinning at the reeling earth pony mare. Ha, ha, very funny, Octavia thought sarcastically, picking herself up and bringing her own sword around to face her target. Senshi turned, to face her.

And promptly vanished from Octavia’s field of vision.

Where the hell did he go!? Octavia thought frantically, turning up the intensity of her clairvoyance enchantment.

“‘Where the hell did he go!?’ Is what you’re thinking, isn’t it little one?” said a voice behind her, whispering in her ear. Octavia spun and slashed wildly, only to have her sword cut empty air, Senshi’s laughter was the only indicator that he had been there moments before. The bastard is toying with me, Octavia thought, rage bubbling in the pit of her stomach. “Get out here and fight, damn you!” Octavia bellowed, her mask distorting her voice into a voice that was as cold as the nightmare creature it was made to look like.

“Why bother?” came the reply. “You’re not even going to acknowledge me as you are right now.”

“What do you mean by that?” Octavia said, her rage building.

“I mean that you have yet to share your name. Names are powerful, a mere title such as ‘Windigo’ is a mask that keeps one from sharing their true self when it truly matters. In the end, a mask is a mere piece of wood or cloth that hides the truth. Not a tool, not an icon of some silly comic hero, just a façade. No matter how many ‘sight’ enchantments it has, it will always cloud your vision and distort what could have easily been seen with your own two eyes.”

Octavia began a retort, only to catch herself.

Octavia pulled off her mask, revealing her purple irises for what seemed like the first time in a thousand years. Suddenly, Senshi appeared just a few paces ahead of her, leaning against a shipping crate. His sword planted blade-first into the ground, and he was grinning like a child before a bowl of Nightmare Night candy.

“See? Was that so hard, little one? And such a pretty face too! Now then," He said, yanking his blade from the floor and retaking his fighting stance, "properly introduce yourself to your opponent!” Octavia raised her own sword in a salute, pointing the tip towards the grinning unicorn.

“My name is Octavia Philharmonica, now known as Octavia Melody, Windigo of the Apple family, and I challenge you.”

“Ah, horse apples!” Vinyl exclaimed suddenly, remembering that she had left her saddlebags in the warehouse. This outburst led to a few suspicious glances from the surrounding ponies. “Sorry ‘bout that,” Vinyl said nervously, her cheeks turning pink from embarrassment. This wasn’t good, her planner was in those saddlebags, she had written the location of her rendezvous with Lyra and BonBon in there, she’d hate to think what would happen if somepony else found it before she did. Making an abrupt one-eighty turn, Vinyl began to gallop back to the warehouse where she met Senshi.

*CLANG*

The warehouse resonated with the sound of metal on metal as the magic blades clashed once more, sparks flying off the blades as they scraped along their twin’s length. “So, Octavia-dono.” Senshi said, their blades still interlocked, “I’m curious about something.”

A push of the blade and a scrape of metal had the two combatants separated again.

“Oh? And what would that be?” Octavia asked.

“Why is it that you came back to haunt Flim and Flam’s organization?” Senshi replied, “The way I see it, you could have used your ‘recently deceased’ status to just walk away from this life.” Senshi said, readjusting his grip on his sword.

“Do you honestly think it would have been that simple?” Octavia retorted.

*CLANG*

Another blade impact shook the rafters of the warehouse as the two ponies once again came together.

“No, but that still doesn’t explain the reason for the mask. There was no reason to become a vengeful spirit. However, I do have a theory about that,”Senshi said casually, ducking under a cut from Octavia’s blade, which neatly severed a stack of steel girders that had been stacked behind the scarlet coated unicorn.

“Interesting, let’s hear it then,” Octavia said dryly, parrying Senshi’s repost, causing the swords to spark again at each other’s contact.

Cut, parry, dodge, parry, parry, cut, parry, repost, dodge. It was a simple, yet complex pattern that the two fighters had fallen into. Around and around in circles they went in their deadly dance, leaving the scars from their presence all over the warehouse in the form of large, inexplicable gashes where there shouldn’t have been any, on the concrete floor, the walls, and the most recent victim: a pile of now miniature steel girders.

Parry, feint, cut, dodge parry, cu - “You had somepony to protect, didn’t you?”

Octavia stopped mid-swing, the blade mere inches from impacting with Senshi’s own sword once again. The stallion chucked, “it would seem I have ‘hit the nail on the head’ as you say in this country. You and I are not so different after all, I too once protected somepony that meant everything to me.” Senshi said, taking up his stance once more to face off against his opponent, “the fact that you are still among the living puts this one in danger doesn’t it? That is why you hid behind your mask”. Octavia remained silent as they resumed their deadly dance, the two blades cleaving the air and leaving arcs of crackling magic energy in their wake.

The sound of blades clashing over and over grew deafening as the match took on a more frenzied pace, the blades blurred as the speed of each cut and parry increased. The resonating sounds getting faster and faster until it formed a veritable waterfall of metallic scrapes and impacts.

*CLANG* *CLANG* *CLANG* *CLANG* *CLANG* *CLANG* *CLANG* *CLANG*

This wasn’t good. The fight was taking too long, it would only be a matter of time before some random passerby took notice of Octavia and Senshi’s struggle and alerted the cops, Octavia didn’t want to be around when that happened. I need to end this quickly she thought, searching for an object, a flaw in Senshi’s technique, anything that would give her an edge in this standoff.

Suddenly, Octavia had an idea.

It wasn’t a particularly good idea, in fact, it was a huge gamble. A completely senseless and boneheaded idea that Vinyl would have probably been extremely proud of, had she been there. Jabbing her blade towards her opponent, Octavia then jumped backwards gaining some distance. Rising up to her hind legs, Octavia feigned a loss of balance as she ‘struggled’ to stay upright.

Senshi took the bait.

Lunging forward, sword outstretched, Senshi darted towards the stumbling mare. At the last moment, Octavia twisted at an impossible angle, and gasped as Senshi’s crimson blade missed its seemingly fatal strike, leaving a deep gash in her side. Octavia’s blade crackled with fury as it descended toward its target, leaving a large, diagonal slash across Senshi’s entire torso, blood erupting from the newly opened wound. Senshi stumbled back before slumping to the floor. Octavia, hoof pressed against her side to stem the bleeding, hobbled over to where Senshi lay slumped against a steel support pillar.

Senshi chuckled, “It seems you’ve won out in the end, little one.”

“It looks that way, yes.” Octavia replied, "Why did you take such an obvious opening? You knew it was a trap."

Senshi laughed again before cringing at the pain it caused him, his horn flashed again and a black lacquered scabbard appeared in front of Octavia. “Consider this blade… a parting gift from me, Octavia-dono. Please accept.” Senshi said, straining to get his words out. Once more, his horn flashed and his own blade shortened, turning into a long, red-bladed short sword, which he promptly jabbed into his stomach with a pained gasp.

“Allow this old warrior… one last request…” Senshi choked out, his voice ragged, “use… that blade… to protect the one you hid from... don’t fail the same way I did,” Octavia nodded, taking the scabbard and sheathing her sword, before slinging it across her back. Senshi smiled warmly before drawing the blade across his belly, spilling more of his blood onto the concrete floor, accelerating his end.

“T-tavi…?” A small, shocked voice echoed from the doorway on the other side of the warehouse.

Octavia turned towards the sound of the voice, and froze. What she saw before her in the warehouse entrance scared her more than anything she had experienced since joining the mafia. More than Byrne’s training, Lyra’s threat, or her nightmares.

The voices.

They were going absolutely insane now, Octavia had thought she had them under control, Byrne had taught her how to lock them out, keep them quiet. Count to four… inhale, count to four… exhale. But it didn’t work.

Because standing in the doorway, was Vinyl Scratch.

Senshi glanced up, his eyes were glazed over, unable to see anything anymore, “Ah, I see… it seems we were both… too late…” Senshi said, a grin on his lips as his consciousness faded fast, "I’ll see you again soon… Hana…" Senshi gasped out as he drew his last breath.

“V-Vinyl…” Octavia stammered, “What-“

“Why.” Vinyl said, cutting her off. She was trembling, Octavia wasn’t sure if it was with rage, fear, or both at once. “Why did you disappear? Why are you a mafia member? Why did you send me that letter? WHY DID YOU TRY TO KILL ME!?” Vinyl suddenly screamed, tears leaking out from behind her signature shades.

Octavia’s breath caught in her throat, “Vinyl, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t screw with me, dammit!” Vinyl shouted, pulling one of her handguns from her concealed shoulder holster, her hooves shaking as she pointed it towards the mare she had thought was her best friend. Vinyl pulled a crumpled envelope from inside her coat and tossed it to Octavia with her magic. Octavia caught and opened it.

Dear Vinyl,

I know I have no right to ask for your assistance after disappearing like I did, but I really need your help. I’ve crossed a member of the local mafia and I need someone I can trust to help get me out of Ponyville. Please, you’re the only person who can help me Vinyl. I’m staying at the Golden Horseshoe Inn, just ask for “Octavia Melody”.

Yours,

Octavia Philharmonica

Octavia couldn’t help it. It started small, but like a parasprite swarm it grew larger and larger, until the whole warehouse was echoing with Octavia’s mad laughter. A single gunshot pierced the hollow mirth as a bullet left a gash on Octavia’s cheek.

“Don’t laugh, don't you dare laugh, damn you!” Vinyl screamed, “You have no idea what I was like after you just vanished!”

“So you end up buying the most contrived, clichéd piece of garbage ‘help me, Vinyl!’ letter that just so happened to show up on your doorstep? I have to say, I thought more of you than that, Vinyl.” Octavia said, her sides still shaking from the ridiculousness of the situation.

She only stopped laughing when the shaking irritated her gash from Senshi’s sword.

“I can tell you with the utmost confidence that I didn’t write this trash,” Octavia said, crumpling the letter and shoving it into her pocket, she would have to burn it later.

“Didn’t I say not to screw with me, you bitch!?” Vinyl shouted, the gun quivering in her grip.

“Sorry Vinyl, but it looks like you’ve been had,” Octavia began.

“Yeah, no fucking shit, Tavi.” Vinyl said menacingly, all traces of sadness gone from her voice. What replaced it was pure hatred. “The only pony who would have benefitted from any of this is you Tavi, was I really so much of a loose end that you just had to kill me off? What did you have to gain by dragging me into this!?”

“Nothing, because I didn’t try to kill you!” Octavia replied, her voice cracking as she desperately tried to keep her composure.

“BULLSHIT!” Vinyl screamed, steadying her aim on Octavia’s head, preparing to fire.

And then, Octavia pulled out her mask.

“You don’t realize it yet, Vinyl.” Octavia said, her voice strained under the weight of her emotions, “but you’ve crossed over the edge of the map, and here there are monsters.” And then with a drop of a concealed smoke grenade, Octavia pulled on her mask, the eldritch blue glow spilling out of the eye holes, making her look truly monstrous.

And then the Windigo made her exit.

When the smoke cleared, all that was left in the warehouse was the corpse of a once honorable warrior, a stunned white unicorn mare with an electric blue mane, and a small, white business card with silvery script.

Courtesy of Windigo

**********************************************Present Time************************************************

Twilight gagged as the strong stench of blood hit her sensitive nose. It hadn’t taken her long to reach the warehouse, once she heard that her quarry had been there and had done something differently, she had rapidly teleported down the streets of Ponyville with a frantic Spike clinging to her to keep from falling behind the overeager purple unicorn.

Spying her partner Pinkie Pie, Twilight flashed her badge to the two on-duty officers guarding the scene. “Are the forensics team finished with their preliminary examination of the body?” Twilight said, slipping into full detective mode.

“Yup,” Pinkie replied, “They took the body to the coroner a little while ago for a formal evaluation, the autopsy should be along soon, but I think we can safely assume that the cause of death was blood loss.” Pinkie said, eyeing the large maroon stain in the concrete next to them. “It must have been a pretty big wound to spray that much blood everywhere,” Twilight remarked, “any signs of a struggle?”

“Everywhere” Pinkie deadpanned, gesturing to the numerous slashes carved into various surfaces around the warehouse.

Twilight trotted over to a pile of steel girders, or what was left of them, the metal supports had been cut cleanly in two. “These marks couldn’t have come from a normal blade,” Twilight muttered, running a hoof over the edge of the cut. “Must have been a magic blade, the only unicorns that are taught the spell to make one are in the military, and even those are few and far between…” Are we dealing with ex-military? One with a grudge against Flim and Flam? She voiced her question to Pinkie. “Maybe, one things for sure though, its pretty likely Windigo is a unicorn. That or the blade came from the victim, which I’m pretty sure is unlikely.”

“Why do you say that?” Twilight asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Because,” Pinkie replied, “Only one gunshot was fired in this warehouse, and the victim showed multiple abdominal cuts, no puncture wounds could be seen.”

“We also found this,” Pinkie said, holding up a metal cylinder, “a standard-issue smoke grenade, usually used to provide instant cover for troops out in the trenches when they needed to expose themselves.”

“So you’re saying Windigo ran off after the gun was fired?” Twilight said, beginning to grow excited, “Pinkie! Do you know what this means!?”

“No I don’t Twilight.”

“It means we have our first witness! Somepony caught the Windigo in the act and fired a shot at him! The absence of firearms on the body confirms it! Have all available officers do a thorough sweep of the surrounding area, whoever it is might still be somewhere nearby! Well? What are you waiting for? Go!” Pinkie gave a quick salute, and galloped out of the warehouse, leaving Twilight behind.

She wasn’t alone long however, as a certain young drake ran in just as Pinkie left, carrying a large manilla envelope in his claws. “Twilight! The autopsy report is here!” Spike gasped, out of breath as he handed the thick envelope to Twilight, “Thank you, Spike. What would I do without you?” Twilight said, taking the report in her magic, levitating the coroner’s notes out of the thick envelope.

Date: May 19th
Post Mortem Examiner: Dr. Red Cross

Subject is an athletic older unicorn stallion with brown irises, scarlet coat and black mane and tail. Subject also has a large facial scar over his right eye, however it does not appear to have caused any damage to the eye itself. Subject’s body is covered with old scars and wounds, suggesting a long history in some militarized or violent organization. The subject’s cutie mark has also been burned clean off, impossible to I.D. the victim based off that, however this burn mark is uniform, suggesting that a brand was used, and looks to have been on the subject’s body for quite some time. The brand is most likely not relevant his death. Estimated time of death is around 10:30 PM. Cause of death: loss of blood due to two lacerations on the torso, the first runs diagonally across from the Subject’s left shoulder to the right hip, likely caused by a large, bladed weapon. The second laceration appears to have been made by a much shorter blade, the angle of the cut suggests that the Subject wielded the weapon himself, however the same cannot be said about the first. Assumed to be a successful suicide attempt by the Subject after engaging with an assailant.

There are no pieces of a metal blade within the Subject’s body, nor are there any signs that the blade had any trouble passing through the rib cage. The blade only just barely missed the heart and lungs, however damage to the pericardium resulted in the heart wearing a hole in itself from the resulting friction. The same can be said about the lower cut, there are no signs of resistance from the abdominal organs as the smaller blade passed through.

There is also a high chance that the Subject hallucinated during his final moments due to the blood loss. He died with a smile on his face.
END OF REPORT

“So there were magic blades in play here…” Twilight murmured, “Wait… ‘Wielded the blade himself’? A suicide? Then he was fighting the Windigo, but then lost?” Twilight sat on her haunches, rubbing her chin with her hoof in deep contemplation, trying to fathom what she had just read. Why would anypony commit a suicide if they were already moments from death? It made no sense! Most ponies would try and escape their fate, but he just embraced it! Wait…

He embraced death…

Twilight’s eyes grew wide as her mind buzzed with activity, remembering all her lessons on other cultures from Princess Celestia.

Twilight shot up to all four hooves, startling her dragon assistant. If she was right about this, then they may have been misinterpreting what actually happened here. “Spike,” Twilight snapped, causing the young drake to jump again, “Did they find either blade that was described in this report?”

“No, no I don’t think so, none of the forensics team members found anything that could have been a murder weapon.” Spike said, So either the Windigo or our mysterious third party witness took the two blades present from the scene of the crime…

Twilight was deep in thought when she felt a hoof on her shoulder. Twilight turned to face a slightly deflated Pinkie Pie who was staring at her intently. “Yes Pinkie, what is it?” Twilight asked, a little annoyed that her train of thought was interrupted by the normally bouncy pink mare. “The officers are out, but they haven't found anything so far. How are things on your end?”

“I think we’ve been interpreting the evidence wrong, I need to head back to my library and confirm a few things just to be sure,” Twilight said, “Have the forensics team do another thorough Spell Check on the area, I want to make sure that we didn’t miss any hidden messages the victim left behind.” Pinkie nodded and trotted off to find a forensics unicorn. “Come on Spike, we have a long night ahead of us.” Twilight said, waving her assistant over from the white chalk outline of the victim’s corpse.

This was going to take a LOT of hot chocolate.

Octavia peeked out of her cover in one of the many back alleys in Ponyville, one more street to cross and she would be home free. She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that the street was currently deserted. Clamping a hoof full of gauze against the gash in her side, Octavia began to limp towards the tall iron gate on the other side. Her suit was lined with a special spongy padding to reduce blunt force trauma and to absorb blood should she get injured, so at the very least, Octavia didn’t need to worry about leaving a blood trail. No, her only concern was to get back to her safe house before somepony saw her out in the open. She didn’t often use this entrance, but she wasn’t usually this badly injured either. She probably had her earth pony constitution and absurd amount of training with Byrne to thank for the fact that she was conscious enough to be able to get this far, given how much blood she had lost.

The gates to Ponyville Graveyard creaked open with a sound that set Octavia’s teeth on edge, they seemed to be saying “Thank you for the new tenants, Windigo.”

She hated that sound.

Stepping past the accusing gates, Octavia entered the field of stone monuments to the dead. Why did Jack have to put an entrance here of all places? It seemed like a sick, cruel joke to the former cellist.

A large crypt stood in front of Octavia, a stone apple carved into the archway above yet another one of those hateful iron gates. Octavia pulled out a key from her trench coat and unlocked the door, this one seemed to be saying: “Welcome home, Windigo.” Octavia glared at the offending structure. Entering the mausoleum, Octavia limped up to one of the many stone coffins lining the walls of the crypt, a pony whose name had never been on any birth certificate adorned the top of the lid, next to an apple carving.

“Pardon my rudeness, Mr. Red Delicious.” Octavia muttered, pressing her free hoof against the carving. A small click echoed through the musty old crypt as the lid of the concealed entrance popped open. Octavia closed and locked the iron gate before carefully descending down the ladder to the tunnel below, the entrance closing automatically above her.

One of Octavia’s first “jobs” as the Windigo was to memorize the entire labyrinth that was the sewer tunnels underneath Ponyville, all for the express purpose of reaching her very own bunker. For somepony who had spent her entire childhood memorizing complex orchestral scores, such a task was easy.

Another cruel joke by the apples: they had decided to codename this bunker as The Crypt. Approaching the concealed door, she pressed a hidden apple carving disguised under some risqué graffiti and slid into the hole that opened up in front of her.

Inside the Crypt was something more akin to a military barracks than an actual home, sparse furnishings adorned the concrete room: a table, a few chairs, a cot, and a cello stand, where the large beige instrument sat, gathering dust.

Her cello case was used for much more sinister purposes now.

Octavia pulled Senshi’s final gift off her back and hung her mask on a peg next to her weapons rack. Limping towards the small kitchenette, Octavia winced as she reached for the large medical kit hanging above the sink. Taking the kit in her mouth, Octavia used her lighter to ignite a small candle lying on the table before collapsing in an adjacent chair. She began to peel off her clothes and pulled out a suture needle before heating the tip of the needle.

She always hated this part.

Pouring some rubbing alcohol into the wound with a hiss as the burning liquid came in contact with her bloody wound. Count to four… inhale. Count to four… exhale, thought Octavia, using the mantra Byrne had taught her in order to push aside anything, pain, fear, emotions.

Letting out a sigh as the pain subsided, Octavia reached for the needle. She set her teeth and began to sew the gash closed. The voices started up again, some offering advice, some insulting, some making inquisitions into her well being, they were all so annoying. “Shut up, all of you.” Octavia said quietly through gritted teeth, tying off the sutures before cutting the thread. Octavia then heated up the blade of her combat knife, and pressed it against the sewn-up cut, cauterizing the wound.

Octavia blew out the candle and stowed the medical kit under the table, sitting there going over the events of that night.

“MOTHERFUCKER!!!” Octavia suddenly screamed, slamming her hoof into the table with a roar that would have put a manticore to shame. Why… WHY!? Everything Octavia had gone through, the training, changing her last name, moving to Ponyville. It had all been to protect Vinyl from the world she had joined! So why the hell did she receive a letter telling her to come to Ponyville… to the Golden Horseshoe Inn… Shortly after the Flim-Flam gang raided her room… Lyra.

And just like that, everything clicked into place.

Lyra had used Octavia as bait to make sure she had the leverage needed to make her talk, and then used said leverage to gain a new ally by feeding her misinformation. Lyra was surprisingly more intelligent than Octavia had given her credit for.

“I’m gonna murder every last one of those fuckers…” Octavia growled through gritted teeth, and then she would finally be able to explain the situation to Vinyl before she became as stained as she was. Yes, Vinyl was still pure, but Octavia had no way of knowing how long that would last. She may already be too late. “No, no giving up is not an option. I will save her from this.” Octavia said, more to reassure herself rather than to make a commitment.

“Save who, sugarcube? You're not hiding anything from me, are you?”

Octavia spun towards the entrance to see Applejack standing in the entrance to the Crypt, carrying a small box on her back. “No one boss, just… had a little trouble with this last one. Regardless, what brings you here? I doubt this is just a friendly visit.”

Applejack snorted, walking over to the table and setting the box down, “So then,” she said, removing her signature stetson hat, “what happened tonight?” Applejack asked, looking to Octavia for an answer. “The target should be making his way across the Styx by now, assuming he has the bits to pay for passage.”

“I see he left a gift, looks pretty nice,” Applejack said, gesturing to the discarded sword lying next to the weapons rack. “Yeah,” said Octavia, limping over to the sheathed blade. “It’s a magic blade, a big one. The red color is a nice touch as well, I think I’ll keep it.” Patting the hilt of her new weapon, Octavia then limped back to her seat, slumping down with a grunt as her side flared up again.

“I’ll be out of commission for a few days though, the target was sharper than he looked, and he managed to cut me.”

Applejack nodded, rubbing the bridge of her nose with a hoof, “Just don’t overdo anything, I’d hate to lose ya’ ,” Applejack looked up with weary eyes, “Is everything all right with you, Jack?” Octavia asked.

“Jus’ a little trouble with the cops, one of their investigations almost struck too close to home. Nothin’ I cant handle.” Octavia nodded, “So, what’s in the box? My next assignment?” Applejack snickered, “You wish, no this is a present from Smith for all your troubles.”

“Ah, the mysterious ‘Smith’, so what’s in it then?” Applejack opened the box, releasing the sweet smell of one of the Apple family’s greatest secrets: an apple pie, fresh from the oven.

Octavia struggled to avoid salivating at the delicious assault on her olfactory senses.

And failed miserably, such was the power of the almighty Apple family apple pie.

“My regards to Smith,” Octavia said, trying her hardest to avoid drooling in front of the Don of one of the most powerful mafia families in Equestria, only to be betrayed by her traitorous stomach, who growled in approval of the gastronomic delight in front of her. This set Applejack roaring with laughter, which only intensified when she saw Octavia’s reddened face and embarrassed expression. We are going to have a serious talk later, mister! Octavia thought, glaring at the treacherous body part. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was, but she guessed getting cut and losing as much blood as she had, this much could be forgiven.

“I’ll leave you to your present then,” Applejack said, standing up and placing the stetson back on her head in one fluid motion, and began to head towards the sewer entrance. She stopped halfway, turning toward Octavia, her eyes hard and cold. This was no longer the mare from a mere moment ago, Octavia now faced the true face of the Apple family’s Don: Applejack “Jack” Apple, former bearer of the Element of Honesty, and one of the most dangerous mares alive.

“A word of advice Windigo,” Applejack said, emphasizing Octavia’s title, “don’t bother thinking that ponies as stained as us can save anypony, we’ve all sold ourselves to an eternity in Tartarus just so we could live a little more comfortably in these hard times. Shoot, we’ll probably just get a double sentence for dragging you into all this once the prohibition started."

"But make no mistake, the only motive that really matters in our line of work is money. That’s all y’all are gonna find, bloodstained bits as far as the eye can see. The Elements of Harmony Bearers couldn't stand each other no more for Celestia’s sake!” Applejack said, her face impassive, despite the weight of her words.

“Look around, we live in a world where Laughter’s gone dull, Loyalty is bought, Generosity is conditional, Kindness is replaced by cruelty, Honesty is replaced by lies, and Magic is used for murder. If the six of us couldn’t save each other, what chance does anypony have anymore? This might be war, but it’s a war of the worst kind: one where money and influence are the only prize. There’s no grand cause, no redemption for any of us who get drafted. The most we can do is keep living for ourselves, and nopony else, forget about saving whoever you were thinking about, because it’s already too late. If they need saving, you won’t be the one doing it.” And with that, Applejack left the Windigo’s Crypt. Octavia couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw a silvery tear slide down Jack’s cheek as she turned to leave.

Octavia stood up, heading to the mini fridge in her kitchenette. The smell of the apple pie suddenly seemed a lot more sour than it was before.

This was going to take a LOT of hard cider.

Author's Note

Yay! Another chapter posted!

As for Senshi... don't worry, I have plans for him... :trixieshiftleft:

Anyway, like and comment! Your critiques are VERY important for my growth as a writer!

Thank you! :twilightsmile:

Preparations

Mafia Octavia Act 4: Preparations

Lyra and her guide flashed into existence in the foyer of a large, seemingly abandoned house. Blinking her eyes in a daze as the side effects of rapid teleportation magic wore off, Lyra turned and nodded to the guide, who then teleported to parts unknown.

Usually, having members of the Flim-Flam mafia carry other members to unknown locations would be seen as unorthodox at best, but right now they faced an unorthodox opponent, and therefore nopony could know where the brothers actually were except for a select few hidden guides who always wore suicide vests should their enemy find them. Damn that motherbucking Windigo! Lyra ranted in her head, the worst part was: Lyra was responsible for her adversary’s creation.

Lyra traversed the empty foyer, coming to a large set of double oak doors. Lyra knocked on the one on the right, the left one had an explosive triggered by vibrations in the doorframe.

“Password?” said a magically disguised voice from the other side of the door.

“Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000.” Lyra deadpanned in response, why they had picked that ridiculously hard tongue twister as a password, she would never know.

The large door swung inwards, revealing a large, dimly lit ballroom with a long table at the center, a set of four BAR machine guns trained toward the door, ready to spray any intruder with a hail 0f .30-.06 cartridges. And behind these guns were the twin Dons of the Flim-Flam mafia, Flim and Flam, their fore hooves wrapped around the triggers of their respective guns, the twins seemed a lot more twitchy than the last time Lyra saw them, almost to the point of being trigger happy.

Lyra heaved a sigh, she definitely wasn’t being paid enough to deal with these oversized foals. “Boss, I’ve got good news and bad news.” Lyra said forcefully, “The good news is, we know who the Windigo is,”

“Really? Who? Where does he live? How quickly can you take him out?” came the inevitable rapid-fire questions from the suddenly overly excited stallions. “I was getting to that boss,” Lyra sighed, “that’s the bad news, the Windigo is a literal ghost, she’s supposed to be dead already.”

“Meaning?”

“Her name is Octavia Melody, one of Applejack’s former lieutenants, and now she’s Jack’s pet assassin.” Lyra stated quickly, “four months ago she was tossed into Manehattan harbor after we pulled some info from her. Well, she survived the experience and now she’s killing us off.”

“So? What’s the problem then?” Flam asked.

“The problem, boss, is that we don’t know where she is, she’s ‘dead’ after all. I doubt even the Apples know where she is.”

“So the question is, how do we get to her?” Flim mused, “If she’s as smart as we’ve been led to believe, then our only real option would be to use bait, but what do we use?”

“What would a dead mare want anyway?” Flam asked, running a pensive hoof over his mustache.

“We’ll use me,” Lyra said, much to the shock of the twins, “Why would she come after you?” Flam asked.

“Simple, I am the one who used her friend to get to her, after all. She’s probably pieced that together by now after running into Vinyl a few days ago. She’ll definitely be gunning for me next.”

Flim and Flam shared a look, and nodded. “You do what you have to, just make sure she’s buried for good this time.” both twins said at the same time.

“Understood, boss.”

************************************************Meanwhile*************************************************

A thick fog obscured the pier, pierced only by the lonely light of a single lantern in the clutches of a single pegasus stallion wearing a long, hooded rain poncho. His companion, a similarly dressed earth pony shivered and readjusted his hood to better cover his ears.

“When do you think Ms. Trixie will get here?” The earth pony said, “I’m sick of waiting”

“Quit your whining, it’s not like we have a choice. We need to escort her to the guide anyways, otherwise she’ll get caught up in the boss’ ‘surprise’ back at the old HQ,” said the pegasus.

The earth pony only grunted in response. “So when is she gonna get here? She sure is taking her own sweet time.”

The pegasus sighed at his friend’s impatience, “Look Dozer, she isn’t gonna get here any faster with all your complaining, so just grin and bear it. Once this is over, the first round of cider’s on me, OK?”

“Fine, but I want an extra large-“

Dozer’s voice was instantly cut short and replaced with a wet gurgle.

“Dozer?” the pegasus said, a small tremor going through his voice. Turning to see what had become of his friend, the pegasus’ eyes went wide as he beheld the horrific scene before him.

The cause of his friend’s silence was instantly apparent when he saw the large, red blade plunged through the unfortunate earth pony’s throat, pinning him to the boards making up the pier, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at the cold, red metal that passed through his larynx and out through his Adam’s apple.

Dozer gave one last pleading gurgle as the blade was yanked out the way it came in, trailing an arc of blood from the wound.

“Question:” said a quiet, almost ethereal voice as Dozer’s lifeless body hit the floorboards, “How many pegasi does it take to send a message to Lyra Heartstrings?” said Dozer’s killer, “Wha - who- what the buck!?” squealed a clearly terrified pegasus as the Windigo stepped forward into the dim lantern light.

She was an image of death itself, dark trench coat drifting in the slow sea breeze, a scarlet blade at her side, crackling with some form of magic or bloody glee, the pegasus couldn’t tell, but what really terrified him was her mask. Perched on the mare’s muzzle under the pink-banded fedora, was a plain white mask that obscured her features, its eyes glowing with an eldritch blue fire that gave him the impression that she was looking deeper than just the stallion who had just soiled himself, it was as if her gaze pierced his very soul.

Almost as if she were silently judging how best to reap it.

“I asked a question, didn’t I?” said the masked mare, “Or did someone else already slip a blade into your vocal chords?” her voice was as cold as ice.

“Y-y-y-you’re….” The terrified stallion squeaked out.

“I’m what?” she replied, “Y-y-you’re W-w-w-windigo.” his voice was just above a whisper.

“How very astute of you, mister I-just-pissed-myself,” Windigo said, face hoofing at the response she was getting.

She knew he would be scared, anypony who was sane definitely would be, but this was getting her nowhere. Slamming her hoof into the protesting floorboards of the pier she asked again, “How many pegasi does it take to get a message to Lyra Heartstrings?” Her tone was more forceful this time, snapping the terrified stallion out of his shocked stupor, “O-o-o-one,” he stammered, shakily getting to his hooves and slinking towards the shore.

He stopped when he reached the still corpse of his companion. Through the clairvoyance enchantment in her mask, Octavia could see the pegasus’ heart rate increase at the sight of his dead friend, please… don't make me do it! Don’t you dare make me do it! she silently begged the pony to continue walking and just find Lyra.

But he didn’t heed her silent pleas.

The foolish pony was dead before he hit the ground, cut down by three bullets squeezed off by Octavia’s Mauser 9mm, which was held in one outstretched hoof.

The fool’s revolver fell from his grasp.

Octavia knew the smallest hint of gunfire would draw the local police force like a cloud of flies to rotting meat. Count to four… inhale, count to four… exhale. Octavia repeated the calming technique as she staggered off towards the warehouses on the other side of the pier, dropping one of her calling cards next to the bodies.

Sheathing the crimson blade and slinging her gun into its holster in her new tactical harness, Octavia made for the nearest sewer entrance, desperately repeating the mantra to shove aside the voices who had ceaselessly tormented her since the beginning of this mad farce that her life had become, and the guilt of her unnecessarily higher body count.

Count to four… inhale.

They never needed to die Octavia, they said almost in unison.

Count to four… exhale.

Didn’t you hear what Senshi told you? Hiding behind a mask is pointless now that your actions have come back to haunt you, Octavia.

Count to four… inhale.

All that needed to happen was for you to threaten them passively, your reputation as a merciless assassin is enough to make anypony piss themselves in fear, Octavia.

Count to four… exhale.

Or maybe… you’ve begun to enjoy it, haven't you, Octavia?

“Shut UP!!!” Octavia screeched, slamming her fore hoof into the brick wall.

Count to four… inhale.

That’s just it isn’t it, Octavia?

Count to four… exhale.

You’ve come to relish the feeling of their bodies on your blade, the recoil of your gun, and the feeling of being knee-deep in corpses, haven't you, Octavia?

“Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT. UP!!!” Octavia wailed as she punctuated each syllable by smashing her hooves into the brick wall, tears welling up under her mask.

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, INHALE. EXHALE.

At this moment, Octavia ripped off her mask and ‘exhaled’ the contents of her stomach all over the brick wall in front of her.

Coughing and sputtering, Octavia staggered away from the mess she had made, leaning against the opposite wall of the alleyway. Octavia glared at the mess of stomach acid and half-digested foodstuffs splattered over the brick wall, it looked like some grotesque painting by an insane artist.

Wiping the bile from her mouth with a shaking hoof and putting her mask back on, Octavia began to stagger towards the sewer entrance in this section of back alley when she heard a sort of… crackle?

Octavia’s eyes widened as she recognized the noise, and what kind of object made it.

Reacting as quickly as her weakened state would allow, Octavia ducked down, spinning in place to face the attacker as a light pink dagger narrowly missed her neck, impaling itself in the brick wall next to Octavia’s hat.

“Where did you get that sword?” a voice asked, unmistakably female.

“You know,” Octavia remarked, “this kind of greeting is very unbecoming of a lady, especially to somepony who you’ve only just met.”

“I will ask you again, where. did. you. get. that. sword?”

“Forgive me if I don’t feel very inclined to answer the question of somepony who hasn't even bothered to introduce herself.” Octavia snapped back, growing tired of the unknown voice’s ceaseless questioning.

The young unicorn mare stepped out of the shadows, she was barely out of fillyhood, with a light beige coat and straight, dark mane that was tied back in a single braid draped over her right shoulder. She wore a light pink garb that looked similar to a bathrobe with a sash, a crest of three red blades emblazoned on the lapel. “I would ask you again,” the young mare said, anger flaring in her brown eyes as she used her magic to withdraw her dagger from the brick wall behind Octavia and level it at her again.

“Where did you get my big brother’s sword?”

Vinyl coughed as the burning liquor slid down her throat for the umpteenth time that night. She slammed her mug down on the bar.

“Another round, Tap.” She groaned out, her head slumped over. She had been like this since she found out who exactly Windigo was.

Octavia… Vinyl's mind burned with rage and confusion over what had transpired between her and her now former marefriend in that warehouse, it seemed like years away now.

She didn’t send that letter? HA! What a load… Vinyl thought darkly, the alcohol finally starting to affect her thoughts Who else would send that letter after disappearing like that!?

“Stupid Tavi… Stupid high alcohol tolerance…” Vinyl mumbled, reaching for her mug, only to find it still empty.

“Hey Tap! Where the buck is my drink!?” Vinyl half moaned, half shouted down the bar to her acquaintance, Leaky Tap, the owner of the highly-illegal establishment Vinyl was currently a patron of.

“Vinyl! Keep it down! Do you want tae have those bloody cops find my bar!?” Tap hissed in his Irish accent.

“You’re getting enough protection from Flim and Flam aren’t you?” Vinyl whined drunkenly, “just get me my drink before I have to come back there and kick your green-coated flank to the keg!”

“I dunno why I bother with you sometimes Vinyl,” Leaky Tap grumbled, running his hoof through his brown mane.

“Its cause you love me soooooo much, right?” Vinyl said in a mocking, sing-song voice.

Tap just rolled his eyes and slammed a fresh mug of hard cider down on the bar, “here’s your Celestia damn drink, that’ll be another five bits ye drunk filly. Don't you think ye’ve had enough yet? At the rate you’re goin’ you’ll put me grandpappy to shame! May his soul rest in peace.” Vinyl just slammed another five coins on the table, making a grand total of forty bits spent on cheap booze in one night without passing out, a new record, the ivory mare noted drunkenly.

“I’ll tell you when the *hic* I’ve had enough, *hic* Tap.” Vinyl replied, slurring her words as she stumbled along her own sentence. Tap just shrugged and trotted over to another customer, striking up a conversation with the weary-looking stallion.

Vinyl’s thoughts then turned back to a few nights ago, when she finally met her quarry for the first time in about a year. What had struck Vinyl the most was the dead, almost dull look Tavi had on her face at that moment. The mare that she had seen that night was completely unlike the beautiful cellist Vinyl had fallen for all those years ago, the same mare who had left the Canterlot Conservatory just so she could be with Vinyl more often.

What happened to you, Tavi? Vinyl thought, rubbing the handle of the short sword she had pulled from Senshi’s corpse, shuddering as she felt it crackle in response to her touch. She hadn’t known him for very long, literally only about ten minutes, but he had grown on her faster than she ever could have realized. It was strange, she had only met him for mere moments, yet she felt as if they had spent years as friends.

“This one’s for you, Senshi.” Vinyl muttered as she chugged the cider, draining half the mug in one go.

“Well, well, what do we have here? My subordinate is racing to the bottom of the keg, again. What’s the damage this time Tap?” Lyra said, sliding into the bar stool next to Vinyl, “nine mugs and counting,” Leaky Tap replied, holding the substantial bag of bits in one hoof, “Can you tell her tae take it easy? She’s liable to drink me out of house and home!” Tap rubbed between his eyes, drawing a chuckle from Lyra, “Open a tab for me too, Tap. I need this as much as Vinyl does.”

Tap shot her a mortified look before sighing and trotting over to the nearly empty keg behind the bar, “Ye both are crazy, you know that?” Tap said over his shoulder, “We know.” Both mares replied in unison.

Tap just rolled his eyes and slammed another mug of hard cider down in front of Lyra, “five bits, ye cheap con artist!” Tap said with a huge grin, Lyra slammed the bits on the table, “Here ya’ go, you crappy bartender!” Lyra said, returning the grin. Vinyl could swear she could see sparks flash between the burly earth pony and her mentor, but then again, she was thoroughly buzzed.

Lyra raised her mug, “To alcoholism! Without which we wouldn’t be able to do illegal things right under Head Detective Sparklebutt’s nose!”

“Hear! Hear!” Vinyl and Tap said, Vinyl raising her own mug shakily, “Hey Tap, do you think I could borrow Vinyl for a minute?” Lyra asked sweetly. Tap only frowned and nodded, busying himself with cleaning dirty mugs further down the bar.

Lyra turned away from the bartender, her expression suddenly growing serious, “You’ve heard about what’s about to go down, haven’t you?” Lyra asked with a knowing look.

“Yeah, and I want in.”

“Not gonna happen, Scratch.” Lyra said, shaking her head.

“Why the hell not!?” Vinyl hissed, slamming her free hoof on the bar, “I finally have a shot at going one-on-one with that bitch, and you’re telling me to stay back!? Are you gonna tell me that all your training-”

“I’m telling you to stay alive, kid.” Lyra snapped, interrupting Vinyl mid-rant. “The twins want this one played close to the chest, the only one who knows the specifics behind the Windigo’s identity other than me and the twins is you, and you’re too much of a loose cannon to be allowed anywhere close.”

“I’m not a loose cannon!” Vinyl growled.

“Says the mare who can usually be found piss drunk in this bar just because she saw a little blood and had a run-in with an old marefriend.” Lyra countered, silencing the ivory mare.

“She is not my marefriend, Lyra.” Vinyl huffed, taking another long pull from her mug, “and if anyone has a right to take her down, it’s me. You trained me to fight her right? Well I have a chance to get her to pay for what she did, and you still won’t let me go? What the hay, Lyra!?” A vein began to pulse in Lyra’s head, her horn flared, magically slamming Vinyl’s mouth shut with an audible click.

“Look kid, I didn’t go through the trouble of training you just so you could throw your life away in some stupid personal crusade. This isn’t some romanticized fairy tale, and you aren’t some heroic knight in shining armor, off to kill off some villainous monster. In this story, we’re all villains, every last bucking one of us is gonna end up in Tartarus when we finally kick the bucket, and I’m not sending you or anypony else there sooner than they need to unless they’re on the business end of my gun. So help me, I’ll stick Bon Bon on you so you won’t even be able to clop until this op is over. Am. I. clear!?”

Lyra released her hold on Vinyl’s muzzle, allowing the mare to offer a muttered affirmative, before draining her mug and calling Tap over for another refill.

Octavia sidestepped as the pink dagger buried itself in the brick wall for a second time that night.

“You are taking too long to answer my question: Where did you get that disgrace of a stallion’s sword?”

“You’re not very nice to your brother it seems.” Octavia remarked as she ducked under a wild swipe aimed at her neck. “I am not concerned with what that disgrace is doing, merely what has become of him for his sword to end up in the hands of a masked murderer.” Octavia remained silent, the young mare leveled her dagger at her again, “He may have been a disgraceful idiot, but there’s no way he would make a blade for a common killer. So how did you come by his sword?” The mare asked again, punctuating her words with a wild slash from her blade. “You know,” Octavia began, “He also would have liked the name of the person trying to kill him, just as a courtesy.”

“I have no name to give to the likes of you,” the mare hissed between clenched teeth as she missed again.

“You’re not very good at this, are you?” Octavia deadpanned.

“Shut up!” the mare grunted through gritted teeth.

Octavia sighed, “This is embarrassing, you’re nothing like him at all.”

“Of course not,” the mare snorted, “I’m far greater than that stupid, disgraceful blemish on our family’s name!” She said, turning her nose up in what had to be the biggest show of haughtiness Octavia had ever seen since she moved from Canterlot.

“That’s not what I meant, kid,” Octavia replied, turning to leave, “You have absolutely no talent for what you’re trying to do. Senshi had talent, and therefore my respect. So if you value your life, you won’t follow me.”

“How dare you!” The mare exclaimed, her face puffing up with barely repressed rage, “I happen to be one of the most talented fighters in my clan!”

Octavia stopped, “Can you make more than that sad excuse for a toothpick then?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Yes I can!” the mare said, screwing her eyes shut in concentration, only to have her dagger grow only a few more inches before shattering.

“That’s what I thought.” Octavia said smugly, continuing on her way.

The young mare simply snorted and continued to follow Octavia.

Celestia damn it, Octavia thought to herself, I’m going to have to use that place again, aren’t I?

Spike yawned, he always hated these briefings that Twilight seemed to constantly be holding every time that damn Windigo showed up again. He loved helping Twilight, he was an honorable young dragon after all, but sometimes his surrogate sister/boss could be well… eccentric.

Presently, Head Detective Sparkle of Ponyville Police Department was busying herself with jotting down all the relevant information on the Windigo case that all of the police department’s investigations team had gathered… which barely filled up half the chalkboard that took center stage in the repurposed interrogation room. “Alright everypony, its time to start the briefing.” Twilight said, lowering the stick of chalk she had levitated in her magic. The assembled anti-Windigo task force under Twilight’s command quickly took their seats. Twilight took another look around the room to confirm that all the attendees were present before beginning.

Twilight cleared her throat, “Approximately a month ago an illegal bar was found forcibly entered via military-grade explosives. There were signs that someone had been detained there, most likely someone who crossed one of the two mafia families vying for control of the Ponyville underworld, but I digress."

"This was also where the Windigo announced his presence to us through a calling card left with the corpse of his first victim: an earth pony who was most likely serving as a guard for the prisoner. We can therefore assume that the Windigo’s objective was to free said prisoner, whether or not it was under orders from somepony else is still uncertain.” Spike yawned again, he already knew this! He had spent the last few days helping Twilight put together this case brief and-

Spike’s thoughts were rudely interrupted by a small, white missile that impacted his forehead directly between his large emerald eyes, causing his head to snap back from here it was resting on his claws, leaving a small white dot where it landed. “Lose focus like that again Spike, and I’ll have you reorganize the library. Twice.” Twilight said with a faint smile as she levitated a new piece of chalk to continue her lecture.

“From what we know, we can safely assume that the Windigo has some sort of military background, evidenced by the few pieces of used equipment we find scattered around the scenes of his killings, mostly spent smoke canisters or breaching charges. Other than that, the only other pattern we know of is that he has a personal grudge against the Flim-Flam mafia, evidenced by another calling card of his: the word ‘guilty’ etched directly into each of his violently murdered victims, all of which were high-ranking members of the Flim-Flam mafia or their subordinates.”

To illustrate her point, Twilight placed some pictures of some of the more… gruesome crime scenes, particularly those with the newly added body carvings added postmortem front and center.

“This was his pattern until very recently,” Twilight continued after letting the grotesque images sink into the seasoned team of detectives, clerks, and officers. “The most recent victim was a unicorn stallion by the name of Senshi, a now former member of a high-ranking military noble family from the Eastern Isles. We were able to ID him thanks to a special liaison from this family, although where she currently is: I have no idea,” Twilight said, rubbing between her eyes with a forehoof, “She managed to give her escorts the slip and they’re currently searching high and low for her as we speak.”

A stallion in the back raised his hoof.

“Yes Silver Star?” Twilight asked, “You said he was a ‘former’ member, why is that?” Silver Star asked. “Excellent question,” Twilight began, “Apparently, Senshi was stripped of his social standing and membership of that family due to some transgression in the past. His name and lineage has been stricken from all family records and it took some political leverage from Princess Luna in order to even obtain his name, they’ve withheld all other information on him though.”

“I guess being the Princess Celestia's own student has its perks then,” remarked Silver Star, whistling softly.

“Yes well, that isn’t the main focus of this briefing, what matters is that during this killing, Windigo broke his pattern, and there were also signs a witness was involved.” Twilight paused to jot down a few things on the chalkboard. “From what we gathered, it seems Senshi challenged Windigo to a duel and lost, committing a ritualized suicide when he lost.”

Silver Star raised his hoof again, “How could you tell that?” he asked.

“A spell check revealed a very… specific enchantment placed over the area.”

“Specific how?” Silver Star continued.

“The enchantment dissipated when a winner was decided, but there were a few additional stipulations that were pretty interesting. For one, all gunpowder and explosive or flammable substances became inert while the enchantment was active, effectively restricting both fighters to hoof-to-hoof combat.” Twilight began to pace back and forth in front of her subordinates, “the second was much more interesting however: all visual-based advantages either combatant had equipped would instead deceive them.” Twilight said, pausing in her attempt to wear a groove in the floor, “at best this only gives us a clue as to one piece of equipment the Windigo uses, good for future planning, but not so much when we still don’t know who he is. However, we do know that there is someone who can point us in the right direction."

“Which brings us to the final condition to the locked warehouse enchantment, no one was allowed to enter or leave that warehouse until the winner was decided. Of course that meant that the enchantments would only have been dropped postmortem, so our witness is still out there somewhere. I want any news regarding this witness sent to me immediately, he or she is likely the Windigo's next target.”

The head detective of Ponyville P.D. fixed the room with a hard look to emphasize her order. “And now for the last point of this briefing,” she continued after an awkward silence, “Our informant inside the Flim-Flam mafia has bought up something of great importance, Flim and Flam will be conducting a sting op on the Windigo soon, I don’t know how they’re going to bait him into their trap, but we’ll make sure we’re there to crash the party and apprehend all of them. I want everypony who isn’t searching for the witness to keep close tabs on the Flim-Flam mafia’s movements and bring in reports of how they’re going about their sting. Dismissed!” And with that, Ponyville’s finest filed out of the room, having been given their marching orders.

“How long do you intend to follow me?”

“Until you answer my question, obviously.” The mare huffed, “also, where are we going?”

“Someplace the cops won’t dare to follow, unless they want to anger some very influential ponies.” Octavia replied, rummaging through the pouches in her tactical harness.

“Wait here a moment, alright?”

The mare nodded as Octavia ducked into a nearby alley and pulled out a set of battered-looking saddlebags. Coincidence or not, the situation was beginning to play out in her favor.

She stowed her equipment in the enchanted saddlebags, slipping her three foot long blade in with ease. She wasn’t exactly sure how it worked, something to do with creating a pocket space tethered to the opening of the bag, but Octavia stopped trying to bother with the intricacies of magic a long time ago.

Her mask went in last, the blue glow fading from the eyeholes as she removed it. Pulling out a hairband with a small gem on it, Octavia did her mane up in a sort of tail-like arrangement, tapping the gem with her hoof to activate the disguise. It wasn’t nearly as complete as a changeling’s transformation, her eye color and cutie mark stayed the same as always, but that hardly mattered as she covered her legs with fishnet stockings and a set of tight spandex shorts that hugged her flank snugly.

Her coat was now a light pink with a red mane streaked with a slightly darker shade of pink.

“Come with me,” Octavia said as she stepped out of the alley, “Is this what you truly look like?” the mare said, cocking her head while fixing Octavia’s scandalous outfit with a disapproving look.

“No.” Octavia said simply, her scowl instantly transforming into a sultry look as they approached a group of stallions near the corner.

“Hey Sonata! You looking for a good time?” One of them said, “Who’s your friend?” said another.

“Sorry boys~” Octavia said, adopting a sing-song tone as she strutted past the stallions, swaying her hips slightly, “I’m off duty for now, and my friend doesn’t share my occupation. Some other time, I promise~”

Octavia dragged the mare along, “tch, stallions,” Octavia spat, dropping the act once they were out of earshot, “Listen, you’re going to have to give me your name, otherwise I won’t be able to hold up my ‘innocent friend’ act.”

The mare scowled, “Yuki, my name is Yuki. I assume I would call you Sonata?”

“That would be nice, yes.”

The mare only nodded, “very well, Sonata. I will follow your lead then, where are we going?”

“We’re already here,” Octavia said, gesturing to the general area, Yuki only just noticed the flashing neon and shady bars and clubs that surrounded them on all sides. “Welcome to Ponyville’s Red Light District, keep your head down and don’t look at anypony too long unless you want trouble.”

Detective Twilight Sparkle sighed, rubbing her temples at the incompetence of the two deputies that had been assigned to escort the liaison from the Eastern Isles. “Run this by me again,” Twilight said, her annoyance clear in her voice, “She asked you,” She pointed to Deputy Snips, “To get her some tea.”

“Y-yes ma’m.” Snips said, visibly shaking in fear from the head detective’s suppressed fury.

“And you,” She gestured to Deputy Snails this time, “were asked to get her something to eat, is that right?”

“Y-yes ma’m” Snails said, a small bead of sweat slipping down the side of his face.

“And when you both returned to the secure location that Ponyville P.D. set up specifically for her so she could be kept safe, she was nowhere to be seen?”

“Y-yes ma’m” Snips and Snails whimpered in unison.

“Good, now I get to write to the Princess on HOW MUCH OF A PAIR OF BUCKING IMBECILES YOU TWO ARE.” Twilight yelled, dropping her calm façade, causing the cowering pair to wince.

“Do you two dolts have the slightest, just the slightest, inkling of what this situation is called? An international incident! You morons caused a fucking INTERNATIONAL INCIDENT by letting a foreign liaison loose in a crime ridden city filled with rapists, bootleggers, drug pushers, and a highly trained serial killer who RECENTLY KILLED ONE OF HER RELATIVES.”

The pair flinched as her words pummeled them, “Do you realize what it took to even get those damn nobles to let her come here?” Twilight fumed, “I had to personally write a letter to the Princess to ask them, physically travel there and ask them, to send a liaison to verify his corpse. AND SAID LIASON IS NOW ROAMING THE CRIME-RIDDEN STREETS BECAUSE YOU TWO HAVE THE GALL TO COME BACK HERE EMPTY HOOVED!? GET OUT THERE AND DON’T COME BACK UNTIL YOU FIND HER!”

Without warning, Twilight’s mane and tail burst into flames as she entered full rage mode, causing the two incompetent deputies to flee her office at full speed, squealing like terrified foals on Nightmare Night.

Twilight hunched over her desk, taking deep breaths through clenched teeth to calm herself… before sputtering as the fire-retardant foam covered her face, forcibly extinguishing the flames from her mane.

“Spike!” Twilight spluttered, trying to wipe the foam from her muzzle.

“Sorry Twilight,” Spike said, setting down the fire extinguisher and tossing Twilight a towel.

Twilight sighed, taking the towel in her magic, she began to clean up the foam. “Damn stuff gets everywhere,” she muttered, cleaning the last of the foam out of her ears, “thanks, Spike”

“Of course, I am your number one assistant after all.” Spike said, snapping off a quick salute to her. Twilight shot him a small smile before hanging her head and slumping over her desk in exhaustion, “What happened, Spike?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, where did we go wrong?” Twilight asked, “Everything was perfectly fine before that war, and then afterwards… Ponyville was never this bad! Even the element bearers began to drift apart, and when the prohibition was declared…”

Twilight sighed, “I don’t have proof yet, but I know Applejack’s bootlegging her cider, Rarity went to Manehattan to expand her business, Rainbow Dash is rumored to be a pirate, Pinkie’s lost her energy, and I have no clue where Fluttershy is! All of us were once the best of friends, but…”

Twilight opened the locket she kept around her neck, it showed her and her fellow Elements of Harmony posing for a picture shortly after her brother’s wedding, and right before Celestia had ordered a suppressing counterattack on the Changeling swarm that had invaded Canterlot.

She still remembered the expressionless look her mentor and second mother had when she began to lay out battle plans to bring the brunt of Equestria’s military might to bear against the changeling swarm, with the Elements of Harmony dealing the final blow against Queen Chrysalis.

In hindsight, that was likely what started the fracture of their friendship. Ever since then, the elements had become dull, lifeless lumps of metal.

Rainbow Dash and Applejack had been all for sticking it to Chrysalis and her children, Fluttershy and Rarity had been openly opposed to such a brutal military strategy on other sentient beings, Pinkie had deflated and hadn’t said much.

Twilight had pressured them into joining the attack with what she had assumed was a rational argument at the time, but she now saw that there was nothing but revenge motivating her back then. Chrysalis had crossed the line when she attacked Twilight’s friends and family, she had to pay for her actions.

So she forced her friends to follow her mentor’s plans, not knowing that she had begun to drive a wedge between the friendship that she had held so sacred for so long.

She should have seen the signs, the harmonic blast that ended Chrysalis had been shaky at best, and she should have known her dying screams would have that effect on Pinkie and Fluttershy! What had she been thinking, forcing her friends to join in a true war!?

They had fought similar threats in the past, but those had been exorcisms of dark magic or the resealing of some ancient evil, they had used the Elements of Harmony to kill somepony! Of course, the effects of the war had a huge fallout on society, ponies became more guarded, less trusting, the values that had formed the cornerstone of Equestria began to fade.

The sudden prohibition had been the final nail in the coffin for her friendships: Fluttershy was the first to leave, it was almost as if she knew what would happen next. Applejack lost her main source of income, and Rainbow Dash had lost the only thing she could use to cope with all the horrible things they had done, what they had to do for the sake of all of Equestria.

“No, that’s all just an excuse now, and excuses won’t help here.” Twilight said, verbally punishing herself of going down that road again.

Twilight slowly moved over to the wall safe in her office, inserting her horn into the magic scanner beside it and opened the safe, Inside was her old tiara with the Element of Magic gemstone standing proudly at the apex of the dull, lifeless metal that was once humming with its own magical force. As long as this doesn’t disappear, I’ll be able to see the girls again. At least, that’s what Twilight had begun to tell herself.

“Hey pretty lady, you looking for work?” A sleazy stallion with a slicked back mane and a salmon pink shirt said, getting uncomfortably deep within Yuki’s personal space.

Octavia rolled her eyes as she saw the sorry exchange over her shoulder, “I’m sorry sir, but who are you?” Yuki asked, visibly uncomfortable with the stallion's intrusion.

“You can call me Slim Shady miss, I’m a… promoter of sorts. I specialize in helping young mares like yourself realize their full potential!” He said with a toothy grin, apparently satisfied with his sales pitch.

“Sorry Slim, this one’s with me~” Octavia chimed in, her voice taking on the tone of a girl who had drank a little too much.

“Really? I think I would’ve known if you had a friend as pretty as this, Sonata.”

Octavia was growing tired of this farce, she dropped the act and glared at Slim, murderous intent in her eyes. Her knife was pressing into his side faster than he could blink, but to someone looking in from the outside, it looked as if she had pinned her lover to the side of a building.

“I said, she’s with me Shady. Or do you want Jack to know that the Shady group is muscling in on her turf? Now scram before I serve your balls to you on a platter.” Slim just snorted and backed away, desperately trying to conceal the shaking in his legs.

“F-fine, but the boss will hear about this!” Octavia shot him another death glare and he bolted down a nearby alley with an undignified squeal.

“Who was that?” Yuki asked, clearly confused by the exchange.

“He calls himself Slim Shady, but he’s not him.” Octavia said, turning back to continue on their way, “There’s about fifty of them running around this district, but only one of them is the real deal.”

She turned to look Yuki in the eyes, “Should you ever meet the real Slim Shady, don’t take your eyes off him for a second. The others are pretty harmless, but the real one is pretty dangerous.”

“Ah, what did he mean by: realizing a mare’s full potential?” Yuki asked as Octavia turned to continue on her way.

“They’re pimps,” Octavia said over her shoulder, “Had I not been here, and things continued the way they were going, you likely would’ve been violently raped before sunrise.”

Octavia almost burst out laughing at the incredibly adorable display of innocent blushing as the young mare sputtered in a flustered manner, she had worn a similar face when Vinyl had done the same for her around the time they first met.

“Come on,” Octavia said to the still spluttering Yuki, “we’re almost there.”

The pair made their way down a few more twisting alleys until they reached a tenement that was somewhat worse for wear.

“You live here?” Yuki asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust, “Nope,” Octavia replied simply.

“Then why are we-”

“safehouse,” came another simple reply.

Octavia opened the door to the tenement and stepped inside, beckoning to Yuki to follow.

“Heeeeeey what’s good, Sonata!” said a somewhat overly happy voice.

Octavia winced inwardly, why oh why in Equestria does she always pick times like these to be less frugal with her stash?

“Hi Tree Hugger!” Octavia said, seamlessly slipping back into Sonata’s overly perky voice.

“Haven’t seen you in like, a few days maaaan. You get another big client again?”

“Yeah, in more ways than one actually!” Octavia replied, causing the green earth pony to fall into a fit of hysterics.

“Man, you’ve really gotta start taking me on your dates maaaan,” Tree Hugger said between gasps as she failed at picking herself up from the floor.

“Actually Tree, I’ve been wondering about that word you keep using, ‘man’? What’s up with that?”

The heavily stoned earth pony put a hoof to her chin, as if deep in thought. “I don’t really know, actually.” She said with a shrug, “Maybe it has something to do with a past life maybe?”

Tree Hugger continued to scratch at her chin, as if trying to decipher the secrets of the universe, when the rough sound of a cleared throat interrupted her.

“As… enlightening as this exchange has been, we should really be going,” said an irritated Yuki.

The clearly stoned pony blinked owlishly, as if noticing Yuki for the first time that night, “Whoa, who’s the ice princess? I’m getting a really weird vibe from her.”

“E-excuse me?” Yuki sputtered, growing flustered again, “I’ll have you know that I-”

“She’s just another client, Tree. Foreigner, wanted to have something more… exotic than what she’s used to.” Realization dawned on Tree Hugger’s face, and with a soft “have fun!” she stepped through a beaded curtain leading to her office, a cloud of foul-smelling smoke coming out to greet her, most likely a mix of incense and the strange scent of Tree Hugger’s ‘stash’.

“I apologize for my landlady’s… addiction, and her subsequent behavior.” Octavia said, sighing heavily. Yuki only huffed indignantly and followed behind Octavia as they began to ascend a flight of stairs to the apartments.

The thin walls of the tenement did little to muffle the various moans, drunken ramblings, and grunts that emanated from within the confines of the tenant’s rooms, only adding to Yuki’s growing unease at her surroundings. They had reached the third floor when a door in front of them burst open and a purple mare with a bunch of grapes and a cherry as her cutie mark was unceremoniously thrown into the hallway.

“Aw come on, Colgate!” The mare whined to the blue unicorn standing in the doorway.

“No Berry, I’ve told you time and time again that you can come home sober, or not at all!”

“But-” Berry Punch stammered, powerless against the angry glare she received from Colgate at her paltry resistance, “You reek of cider and you always scare Ruby when you’re like this!” Colgate continued, gesturing to the terrified light purple filly cowering behind Colgate’s tail, shaking in sheer terror.

“But Colgate!” Berry Punch whined as the door to her room was slammed in her face, causing the currently drunk pony to slump to the floor in utter despair.

Octavia and Yuki skirted around the living obstacle as they made their way to the next flight of stairs.

“Who was that? She seemed somewhat familiar.” Yuki said, scrunching up her face in contemplation.

“Her name’s Berry Punch, she’s just another casualty of the prohibition. The reason you’ve probably heard her name before is that she was once the greatest wine maker in Equestria, until that became an illegal practice. Since then, all she’s been good at is getting drunk and rowdy.”

“How sad for her, and her daughter.” Yuki remarked, her ears splaying back with genuine sadness at the spectacle that was behind them. “We’re here,” Octavia said suddenly as they reached the apartment on the fourth floor.

“Tea?” Octavia asked her new safehouse-guest, “please” came the simple reply from the cold unicorn making herself at home at the table. The safehouse was far less spartan than the Crypt where Octavia had been staying up until a few nights ago, when she’d been outed by Vinyl as the Windigo, Octavia had asked that a civilian identity be made for herself so that she could remain hidden from her would-be aggressors.

Jack had raised an eyebrow at the unexpected request but had acquiesced when Octavia pressed forward with an argument she had prepared for just such a contingency, it was easier to hide in a crowd in an unassuming civilian identity than caught by surprise in a secret bunker that anypony could easily stumble upon and instantly know who lived there. Octavia had everything she owned transferred to her new accommodations.

A low thrum echoed through the apartment, a sound that was so beautiful to Octavia that she was surprised she had ever forgotten it.

Octavia turned to see her houseguest standing next to her cello, the bow levitating in her magic as she began to draw it across the strings again, producing the nostalgic sound that Octavia hadn’t heard since… well, since her last performance as a simple cellist.

“Its out of tune,” Octavia deadpanned, leaning against the counter of her kitchenette, a kettle of fresh water sitting on the stove, “How can you tell?” Yuki asked, a small blush touching her ears knowing she was caught red-hoofed.

“I can tell because its mine.” Octavia replied, walking over to the young mare and taking her bow from Yuki’s magic.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve played, but this thing was once my bread and butter.” Octavia continued, placing the bow next to the cello reverently.

“And now it’s killing?” Yuki asked, arching an eyebrow.

“My story isn’t all that uncommon, you saw what Berry Punch was like, right? A lot of ponies lost their jobs when the prohibition hit, mostly musicians like me, and makers of alcoholic beverages like Berry.” Octavia sighed, “A lot of us were forced to take jobs most ponies consider… unsavory, for obvious reasons.”

“I would think the two fresh corpses down by the pier would agree with that sentiment.” Yuki said, frowning at her host. “That does not, however, explain how you came to posses one of my brother’s swords. I’d like an answer while I’m here, outside of Detective Sparkle’s jurisdiction.” Yuki continued, sitting back down at the table once more. Octavia took the chair opposite her.

“Why don’t we start with you first, after all, you did just try to stab me.”

“I’m not apologizing.” Yuki huffed.

“I don’t expect you to, I just want information. You tell me what I want to know, and I’ll be more forthcoming than I have been so far. Seem fair?”

Yuki only grumbled an affirmative, which Octavia capitalized on, “first question: what do you mean by ‘a disgrace to the family’?”

“Exactly that,” Yuki sniffed, “He abandoned his duty and was banished from our family as a result, never to set hoof in his homeland again. A fitting end for a traitor of his calibre.”

“What exactly did he do?” Octavia asked, confused by the extremely vague answer she had received from her guest.

Yuki’s body language closed off, “he murdered her…” her voice was hardly above a whisper, had Octavia not been focusing on her the whole time, she might have missed it.

“Who did he kill?”

The reaction was wholly unexpected. Yuki’s eyes glazed over with cold fury, a look Octavia knew well, she had worn in the mirror over the past few days now. “He murdered his lady and mistress right in front of me! Our cousin was impaled by the very same blade you now wield to leave a trail of corpses! He was sworn to protect her and he ran her through without a second thought, without hesitation!”

Yuki’s eyes began to leak tears, but her gaze never wavered from Octavia’s, “that is why he is a traitorous, disgraceful stain on our family’s name,” Yuki continued, regaining her composure, “I assume I have filled my end of our bargain, now you will tell me everything you know, harlot.”

Octavia was unfazed by her guest’s icy words, opting instead to give her the ‘go ahead’ signal. Yuki took a few breaths to calm herself, “Firstly, what relation do you with that filth?”

As if on cue, the kettle on the stove whistled and Octavia got up, grimacing as the half-healed gash in her side flared up with the motion, and poured the scalding water into the waiting teacups, the herbal mix already present within of the shallow vessels. “It’s quite simple, really.” Octavia said handing her guest her drink and taking a sip of her own.

“I first met him a few days ago. We talked, mostly he did all the talking though.” Yuki took a sip of her tea, savoring the taste of the flavorful herbs at the bottom of her cup.

“This tea is quite good,” Yuki remarked, moving the conversation to lighter topics in the hope that her host would let something slip, “what blend is it?”

“It’s actually my mentor’s own blend, I believe he called it Death’s Embrace number 5.”

If the young mare was unnerved by the revelation, she didn’t show it.

At this moment, the sound of knocking echoed through the small apartment, Octavia cantered over to the door and looked through the small peephole before opening the door, revealing a grey pegasus mare with a blond mane carrying a messenger bag.

“Oh, hi Ditzy!” Octavia chirped, slipping back into Sonata’s perky persona.

“Message for a miss Sonata Score?” Ditzy said, squinting to get both eyes to focus on the letter she had in her hoof, before handing it over with a smile. “Thanks Ditzy!” Octavia said, returning the mailmare’s smile, Ditzy smiled and snapped a salute before trotting down the hall toward the staircase.

Octavia glanced down at the envelope, in place of a return address there was a postage stamp marked with an apple tree, meaning this message could have only come from one mare. Sighing, Octavia opened the letter and skimmed its contents before burning the message on the stove. She needed to move a bit more quickly.

Yuki sipped at her tea once more as Octavia sat back down across from her, “Something has just occurred to me, Miss Sonata.” Octavia perked up a bit at the sound of her cover name.

“Yes, what is it?”

“Why go through all this trouble? I’m sure you’ve surmised that I know you’re that traitor’s killer, and therefore the elusive Windigo I was asked to assist in capturing.” Yuki took another measured sip from her teacup, “Why even go through the effort of bringing me here under false pretenses, leading me all the way to your ‘safehouse’ without any sort of precautions whatsoever, only to share a cup of tea and to exchange information? Personally, I find that hard to believe.”

Octavia couldn’t help but grin at her guest, “You’re sharper than I gave you credit for,” she remarked, “I’ve found myself in a situation where I believe I’ll need the police department's assistance in a personal vendetta of mine and so, Lady Yuki, special liaison to Detective Sparkle,” Octavia pulled a file from her saddlebags, one marked with Yuki’s picture on the cover.

“I’ll need your unique position to deliver a message.”

“And what makes you so sure that I’ll do such a thing?” Yuki asked, draining the last of her tea while raising an eyebrow.

“Because,” Octavia began, “The hypnotic drug you just naïvely drank will make sure you have no choice in the matter,” Octavia said with a small smile as Yuki’s eyes began to glaze over, “Now the first thing I’ll need you to do is…”

Author's Note

BOOM! epic cliffhanger, now you have no choice but to wait for the next chapter! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

but seriously FUCK. THIS. CHAPTER. not really my best work so far, but it does set up a few things rather nicely, so I’ll let it slide for now. Until then, this has been The Villain in Glasses, signing off.

Rewind

Mafia Octavia Act 5: Rewind

****Present****

Octavia jerked awake, her internal clock telling her that it was time to move. The room was pitch black, the darkness seemingly pressing in on her from all sides. Slowly, she inched her way out of her bed, being extremely careful not to wake Vinyl. The alabaster unicorn sleeping soundly in the bed they shared, not just for the comfort of each other's company, but because one bed was cheaper than two. Octavia crept out of the room on silent hooves, carefully stepping over the various bits of random detritus the locations of which she had carefully memorized before going to bed.

Octavia, are you sure about this? Once you go, there's no turning back. The voices said, a tone similar to worry painting their words.

"I wouldn't be doing this if I wasn't sure," Octavia muttered, exiting the bedroom and closing the door softly behind her, its not as if I have a choice in the matter.

Octavia made her way around the apartment, collecting her things, pausing by the picture of herself and Vinyl during their graduation day. Damn them, she thought angrily, shoving the picture into her saddlebags. They couldn't just leave her well alone, could they.

Just how long am I going to be cursed with the name 'Philharmonica'?

Slinging her saddlebags over her withers, Octavia approached her cello case. The poor instrument had not been used in two weeks, there was hardly any point, seeing as nopony bothered with lending an ear to a musician when the taverns and pubs were closed. Octavia popped the latches on the side of the case, swinging the cover open, revealing the wooden instrument inside.

The poor thing was in bad shape, but nothing a good tuning and a thorough dusting wouldn't cure. "Later," Octavia muttered, rubbing a hoof along the cherished instrument that had once been her bread and butter. Tearing her eyes away from the cello, Octavia pressed her hoof against the top of the cello case, the secret compartment popping open for the first time in years. Inside was a large bag of bits and a flat box, both of which had been gifts from a stallion she detested, but could not be rid of.

Octavia pulled out the bit bag first, setting it down on the coffee table in front of the couch, one of the few pieces of furniture other than their shared bed. "I'm sorry, Vinyl," Octavia said sadly, tears threatening to build up in her eyes. She shook her head, ridding herself of such thoughts. This was the only way both she and Vinyl would live, she would make certain of that.

****Twenty-Four Hours Ago****

"Miss Philharmonica?" A male voice asked, causing Octavia to freeze in place, nopony had called her that name in years.

"I'm sorry, but you seem to be mistaken sir, I don't know anypony by that name." She replied, trying to keep the panic out of her voice as the silhouette of a pony in a suit and trilby hat appeared behind her, reflected in the vanity mirror in front of her.

The figure snorted, taking off his trilby and holding it to his chest, revealing the thestral underneath, "Don Virtuoso sends his regards, miss." He bowed, "he would like to meet you at your earliest convenience, what you're wearing now will suffice." He said, gesturing towards the black evening gown Octavia had yet to change out of.

Octavia sighed, "you may tell your Don that I'll have to decline his offer this evening, as I already have a prior engagement."

"It wasn't a request, miss." The thestral replied, fixing Octavia with a pointed look from his amber eyes.

"Yo Tavi! You done in there?" Vinyl called from the hallway, "hurry up, or I'm heading home without you!"

Octavia glanced towards the thestral, he shook his head almost imperceptibly.

"Sorry Vinyl, I just remembered something I had to do. I'll head home later, so go on ahead of me, alright?" She replied, her eyes fixed on the amber orbs staring at her from the shadow of the door.

"'kay!" Vinyl's hoofsteps began to recede back down the hallway.

The thestral slipped his trilby back onto his head, "I'll be waiting out back, don't be too long miss."

Octavia waited until she was reasonably certain the thestral stallion was gone, before a choked sob escaped from her chest, barely muffled by the hoof she clamped over her mouth.

****Present****

Octavia opened the flat box, revealing the "gift" that was inside.

The brilliantly polished Mauser 9mm reflected Octavia's gaze back at her. If it wasn't the object of so much of her ire, she likely would've thought it beautiful, in a deadly sort of way. The polished metal was smooth and unmarred, as if fresh from the forge it was crafted in. The blued steel of the slide flowed easily into the ivory handle, a depiction of Octavia's own cutie mark was inlaid in mother of pearl on the handle. Engraved on the side of the slide in fancy script was the word: "treble". Four full magazines and a holster rested in slots next to the custom weapon.

This gift had never been used.

Not yet, anyway.

****Twenty-Three Hours Ago****

The thestral knocked twice at the large, wooden double doors to the study, the sound echoed into the room beyond.

"Don Virtuoso, Octavia is here."

"Come in," a voice said from the other side. The thestral pushed the door open before ushering Octavia inside and closing the door behind her.

The room was large and tastefully decorated, it smelled fresh, as if it had just been cleaned. Bookshelves filled with old tomes on various subjects from magic to music theory to history books lined the walls of the hexagonal room, a rolling ladder resting against them. In the center of the room was a large wooden coffee table, the wood polished to a mirror-like finish, a decanter of illicit amber liquid resting in the center next to several tumblers. Two couches sat on either end of the table, parallel to each other. A globe rested next to a potted fern in the back next to a large bay window that took up most of the back wall. Positioned directly in front of it was an expensive-looking mahogany desk with a large armchair behind it.

And sitting in the armchair with a soft grin on his face was the one stallion Octavia despised more than anypony else.

Don Virtuoso Philharmonica was a heavily built earth pony. His mane was a dark, charcoal black with streaks of grey from old age, bearing a light grey coat, the color slightly faded from what it had once been. He wore a cherry red robe and black framed reading glasses over his chocolate brown eyes.

"Ah, there she is! What? No hug for your father?" He said, noting Octavia's smoldering death glare, "come in and take a seat, we have a lot to talk about."

"I think I would prefer to stand, it allows me to leave quicker after I've told you once more to piss off."

Virtuoso chuckled, causing the crow's feet around his eyes to become more pronounced, "I'm afraid you will be standing a long time then, the reason I've called for you takes some explanation."

"That would be a first," Octavia grumbled as she begrudgingly sat herself down on one of the couches, not once removing her death glare from the stallion behind the desk.

Virtuoso clasped his hooves in front of his muzzle, staring right at his daughter, "I'm sure you've noticed recent events regarding the sale of alcohol."

"Why don't we just get to the point so I can leave?" Octavia growled, seething just from being in the same room as him.

"Impatience is unbecoming of a lady-"

"Don't believe for a second you can tell me what to do," Octavia said contemptuously, "you lost that right when I gave up the name 'Philharmonica' to be rid of you."

Virtuoso glowered at her, and for a second Octavia believed she had gone too far.

"Fine," He said, his tone flat and even, all of the faux kindness gone, "despite the... current political situation regarding alcoholic beverages, a few groups have managed to easily cash in on it because of the resources they already have available to them."

"And what do you want from me? I'll have nothing to do with any of this, you can dig your own grave pursuing everypony's new vice for all I care."

"What I wish to do," Virtuoso continued, "is to form an alliance with a group based out of Ponyville, one of the strongest kind." He turned to Octavia, "and that, my dear, is where you come in."

Octavia's eyes narrowed, "what?"

"I am prepared to provide you a job of the most lucrative variety, as all of the pubs you relied on are now closed, one that will have the added benefit of returning my only daughter to the fold." Virtuoso said, a smug smile on his features.

"Bullshit!" Octavia roared, rising to her hooves, "there is no way in Tartarus that I would ever return to you, bargaining chip or otherwise!"

Virtuoso sighed before pulling a folder from somewhere in the desk, "what was the name of your friend from school again?" He muttered to himself, opening the file on his desk, "Wine Match? No. Ah yes! Vinyl Scratch! Beautiful coat I must say, although I can't really say much for her mane. And those sunglasses!" He looked back up at Octavia, "how do you think she'll look with a smattering of red on that pretty white coat?"

Octavia paled before slamming her hoof on the coffee table, rattling the decanter and tumblers resting on it, "don't you dare threaten her, you filth!" She roared.

Virtuoso merely shrugged before closing the folder, "I was not doing anything of the sort my dear, I was merely asking your opinion of the color red with that white coat." He put the folder away, "but now that we have broached the subject, I would rather that she not fall victim to some... unfortunate circumstances."

Octavia could only stand there and seethe as the most despicable pony she knew dangled her best friend over oblivion simply to get her to cooperate.

"What do I have to do?" Octavia growled.

A wide, sinister grin sliced across Virtuoso's muzzle, "I thought you would never ask, my dear."

****Twenty Hours Ago****

"Vinyl, I'm home!" Octavia called, setting her cello case down next to the couch, not that it matters, she thought angrily.

"I'm in the kitchen!" Vinyl called back.

Octavia trotted over to the kitchen, "hey Tavi!" Vinyl called over her shoulder, stirring something in a pot with her magic, "I already started dinner, is pasta okay?"

"Yes, that's fine. I think I'll take a bath before dinner though." I need to get the filth off me.

"Is everything alright? You look kind of agitated."

"No, I'm fine." Damn your perceptiveness Vinyl! Octavia swore inwardly.

"Alright then, it'll be ready soon." Vinyl said.

Octavia nodded before heading for the bathroom.

****Present****

Octavia closed the door softly behind her and slipped her key through the mail slot. It's not like I'll need it anymore. She thought ruefully, readjusting the straps on her cello case and saddlebags.

There is still time, Octavia. Use the gun and run away with Vinyl!

"As if I could! The Philharmonica family's reach is farther than I could ever run from." She muttered to herself.

"Is there something wrong Miss Octavia?" The thestral said, scaring her out of her wits.

"Do you always make it a habit to sneak up on unsuspecting mares?" She asked, placing a hoof on her chest, waiting for her heart rate to go down.

The thestral shrugged, "only when my job calls for it."

"And what exactly is your job?"

"Whatever your father demands of me."

Kill him, Octavia. There will be no witnesses, KILL HIM!!!

Octavia shook her head, quieting them for now, "I see."

"Come on then, miss. Your train awaits." The thestral said, gesturing with his chin.

Octavia looked over her shoulder at the entrance to her flat before following behind her guide.

I'm so sorry, Vinyl.

Octavia knocked twice on the farmhouse door, the thin wood rattling at the force of it. The door opened with a creak, a large, red earth pony stallion propping it open with a hoof, watching her silently.

"Is this the Apple family residence?" Octavia asked, eyeing the stoic pony curiously.

"Eeyup." Was the only reply she received.

"I'm here about the Philharmonica family, my name is Octavia Melody."

The stallion's eyes narrowed as he stepped aside, "Big Macintosh, y'all wanna talk with AJ about that."

Octavia nodded once before stepping past the burly stallion.

"This way." Big Macintosh said softly, leading Octavia towards the back of the farmhouse, leading her to a door marked: "office".

"Sis, the Philharmonica rep is here."

"Send her in, Mac." A slightly muffled mare's voice came from the other side of the door, Big Macintosh opened the door and ushered Octavia inside before closing the door behind her.

Inside was a small room, a single bookshelf crammed with ledgers of varying thickness rested against the back wall, before it was a simple, utilitarian wooden desk with a high-backed chair behind it. An orange earth pony mare with a blond mane and a worn stetson sat in the chair, gazing at her guest.

"Have a seat," said the orange mare behind the desk said, gesturing to the two chairs set opposite of her.

Octavia complied, pulling a letter out of her saddlebags, "this is from the don," she said flatly placing the letter on the desk. The mare took it and skimmed through it, glancing at Octavia every once in a while. Finally, she looked up.

"Didn't know I was greeting the don's daughter." She said dryly, "or that said daughter was sent as a gift to be a lieutenant."

"I'm not his daughter in any way, other than biologically." Octavia said, her hatred seeping into her voice.

The mare chewed on the inside of her cheek, "I see. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I honestly don't really give a hoot about any sort of partnership with Virtuoso to begin with. Stallion always rubbed me wrong." She held out a hoof, "all I really care about is getting my goods into Canterlot, but I won't turn down an extra hoof. My name's Applejack."

"Octavia Melody," replied Octavia, taking her hoof.

"Nice to meet you, Octavia." Applejack said warmly.

Octavia remained silent.

Author's Note

Yeah, yeah, I know, short flashback-ception chapter. :ajbemused:

But I really wanted to fill you guys in on the circumstances of Octavia's sudden departure from Vinyl, normally "close friends" don't really do that sort of thing. :applejackunsure:

That and I wasn't quite ready to move the plot forward juuuuust yet. :pinkiecrazy:

As always, be sure to leave your feedback in the comments below, as I would love to hear from you! :twilightsmile: