You are not the person Mr. Rogers knew you could be
She told you how you should hold her during the move, and she turned out to be dead wrong.
Also Rainbow Dash is now dead. You're pretty sure, because necks aren't supposed to bend like that.
She also isn't breathing. That's probably what tipped you off. Besides the neck thing. And the fact that you killed her, you monster.
Gazing at her lifeless body, you calculate several scenarios.
One, you report it to the police, or Guard, or whatever the hell they call law enforcement in Canterlot. But you’re here in Equestria on a diplomatic visa and would get arrested, deported to the US―you take a moment to appreciate the irony― then extradited back to Equestria to face trial, and you’re pretty sure Equestria isn’t part of the U.N., so your chances of diplomatic immunity are slim to fuck you you just accidentally killed a national heroine.
Scratch that, then.
Your second option is to call your attorney and see what he thinks. He’s pretty Jewish, so maybe he could shave a few years off of your sentence while delaying the trial for God-knows-how-long. You hear Equestrian prison is actually rather acclimating and has an incredibly low recidivism rate. You ponder over that option until you realize your job options would be shot to holy hell if you got convicted of a felony.
You could see it now: Foreign Diplomat kills savior of Equestria in hotel room!
Scratch that one, too.
Which leaves you with your third option. You pull your suitcase―the kind with the wheels on it―out of the closet and stuff Rainbow Dash’s dead body in there along with the rest of your stuff, then leave the room.
You’re convinced you’re either a sociopath or that the shock of killing motherfucking Rainbow Dash hasn’t sunk in yet. You hope it’s the latter, but you have to admit it’d be pretty convenient if it was the former and killing Rainbow Dash unlocked some kind of sociopath superpower.
Betting money says you’ll freak out at some point, though.
Getting your mind off of the pegasus corpse in your luggage, you look around the hotel as you head towards the hotel front desk. Various Equestrian flowers line the walkway as vines hang off of balconies above, twisting around the staid architecture. A wishing pool sits in the corner, powered not by a fountain but by a waterfall built into the wall, siphoning water from God-knows-where. A Wi-Fi router sits in the center of it all, ponies and humans crouched into little cubicles as they access the daily news which you are trying your damndest to stay out of.
All in all, she could have picked a worse place to die. Like surrounded by her family and friends or something dumb like that as opposed to having her neck snapped by a piledriver you’re starting to suspect sociopath.
You gulp as you reach the front desk. A brown...regular pony, you guess, sits behind the counter and typing into a computer. You are at a complete loss as to how she does that with her hooves. You timidly ring the bell.
She turns to face you, eyeing you down because she knows you killed Rainbow Dash it’s written all over your face you murdering piece of shit.
She smiles at you. “Are we here to check out?”
You nod in agreement, too tongue-tied to say anything at this moment.
“Alright then,” she says as she punches stuff into a keyboard. You’re not really sure how hotel computers work and you still can’t figure out how the hell she types so precisely. “That’ll be… fifteen bits.”
You don’t actually have any bits because Rainbow Dash was going to pay you asshole, so you pull out your wallet and produce a credit card.
She looks it over. “We don’t take American Express.”
You inhale sharply and produce another credit card―Visa. Everyone takes Visa.
As does the hotel as she takes the credit card from your hands how the fuck is she holding it, swipes it, and returns it to you. You exhale, having solved the problem of paying for a hotel. You grip your suitcase―
“Sir, the credit card declined, do you have any other forms of payment?”
You pause and bite your lip. The corners of her mouth turn down.
“Well, sir?”
You didn’t want to have to do this. You trudge back to the counter and pull out your diplomat visa.
A bright smile affects itself over her face. “Okay, then, I’ll just contact the embassy. Thank you for staying at Hilton Canterlot!”
You offer a weak smile and exit the hotel, the heat exploding onto your body as you enter the streets of Canterlot. This you deduce is bad because you’ve currently got a dead body in your suitcase that you have to unload somewhere and this would assist decomposition.
Yeah, you’re pretty much a sociopath at this point.
Well, you’ve got somewhere to go, so you attempt to walk as innocently as possible to your next destination. One foot in front of the other, taking in the view of ponies and humans heading to their destinations not paying attention to you. Which is good. You scour the alleyways you pass for a viable dumpster to rid the body into oh my god you’re a complete monster but unfortunately they all appear to be too crowded, so you keep trudging along.
Your phone vibrates and you check it for messages. You find one.
<Hey, I’m trying to get a hold of Rainbow Dash and her phone is off. She said she’d be with you. How are you guys?
-Twilight Sparkle>
Your blood runs cold as you mentally shit yourself. You are not prepared for this. Also, the text is in Equestrian. You can understand it well enough, but typing it is a real bitch. Your hands are also shaking like an unrestrained food processor.
Carefully, you switch the language to Equestrian―best to be polite―and hammer off something that’ll hopefully get her off your back. You put your phone back in your pocket and keep walking. One foot, two foot, one foot two―
You audibly groan as your phone re-vibrates and you pull it out of your pocket.
<Okay, then, don’t get into too much trouble!
-Twilight Sparkle>
You type in an empty affirmation that you won’t and put the phone back in your pocket. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you ascertain you’re already in a world of trouble as you keep walking, keeping your head down so that no one can see the obvious guilt in your eyes.
You bump into someone.
“”
You raise your eyes to see Blueblood glare at you, then soften when he sees who he’s talking to. He probably doesn’t realize you know his language. Seeing as how the next words out of your mouth would be a confirmation of the fact that you fucking killed Rainbow Dash, you don’t inform him of that.
“Oh, hello,” he says in a sickeningly syrupy tone, “you’re that diplomat from the States, right?”
You nod your head in affirmation.
Blueblood hums. “I thought so. Do you have a moment to talk?”
You shake your head. You’re not really equipped to deal with this right now.
“Oh,” Blueblood says, obviously crestfallen. “I wanted to ask you something, but you appear to be somewhere else. I’ll ask you about importing shotguns later.” He then walks away.
You mentally file that away as something rather troublesome to report to the embassy as you walk off, keeping your head down again.
You must have made a wrong turn somewhere because suddenly you find yourself alone. In an alleyway. That has a dumpster.
A viable dumpster.
You quickly kneel down and unzip your bag, your eyes laying on what was once a vision of virile vitality, now reduced to a lifeless lump: the deceased Rainbow Dash.
You thought it strange when she first took an interest in you. Sure, you’re moderately attractive, but you suspect it was more of the exotic factor. And hey, who doesn’t want to tick off bang a national heroine?
Yet it was not meant to be.
“Come on, show me that move.”
“You know, the one that guy did to that Cena guy.”
“Do it from off of the bed. It’ll be cooler that way.”
“Yeah, I know how to take a wrestling move. I see it on TV all the time.”
And that was when Rainbow Dash unwittingly signed her death warrant. You hoist her up and throw her in the dumpster, an ignoble end to a most noble pony. Zipping up your suitcase, you reflect on the fragility of life and how this didn’t affect you at all.
Maybe you are a monster.
