Manehattan Homicide : The Red Laborer

by BillBooks

Rating: teen
Tags: Mystery, Crossover, Alternate Universe
Length: 10990

Set in a Victorian age, a series of murders on a higher class of ponies have started to pop up in the city of Manehattan. It is up to D'Agosta and his friend, Pendergast, to solve the mystery.

(In case you don't know, Pendergast is a top FBI agent)

A party at Lapiz's residence was going well until somepony screamed.

A series of murders on high-class citizens of Manehattan appear, similar to FBI Special Agent Aloysius Pendergast's previous case. D'Agosta is assigned to it, and it only gets worse and worse, with more obstacles hindering their path.

Later, they have too many leads, and must pick each one off with each murder. The Octavias have a bad history, the homeless underground are ruthless beasts, and the poor above are always jealous of the rich. Which one of these groups are the culprit?

Teen for some blood and the occasional use of curses.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-05-09 23:57:04 UTC

Prolouge

The wealthy pony stood at the table, tasting all of its exquisite wines. She wore a dark red dress, transparent at the ends, with sparkling diamonds embedded in it. Her dark-red mane was did in a complex fashion. Octavia's family definitely threw great parties, and this was one of them. Of course, low class citizens weren't allowed in. She smirked at the thought of the dirty trash of the city trying to get in. They're so used to eating scraps, this wine would probably be venomous to them. Anypony of actual respect, of course, was granted access to these outings. Only Manehattan's finest, the pony thought slyly. She and her sweet little colt had received a courteous invitation, which they had kindly accepted. On her way in, she was disgusted to see a gang of homeless ponies crowding around the entrance, begging. Ugh. The mayor should just gas the locations these hobos camped out in.

The pony that stood there was basking herself in delight, so much so that she had forgotten all about her son. She stopped tasting the fine wines and looked around, keeping a composed expression on her face. The rich mare did not want to embarrass herself by drawing the attention of everypony in the room. She passed the table, glancing this way and that. Her small search resulted in feeble findings. She leaned against the blood-red wall, outlined with dark mahogany, and looked about. Nopony resembling a cute stallion with perfect composure and an impeccable suit was to be seen. She shrugged it off, reminding her self that this was a civilized party. It wasn't like any bad influences would ruin the thirteen years of money and effort she had put into the colt. He was her son, after all, so he was sure to be fine.

She waited for ten minutes. She kept cool, not expressing any emotion. After another ten minutes, she started asking ponies. She wouldn't need to go too into detail, since there were only two young colts there, the first being dressed in a flashy blue tuxedo. His parents must be embarrassed by his horrible fashion sense.

"Have you seen a colt with a custom grey suit?" she asked a grey-blue pegasus, her mane different shades of grey with a black bow on the end. She wore an expression of utter hate, as if she had just been asked for change and then followed for it. She shook her head, passing her. The worried mother went along, asking more ponies.

"Have you seen a colt with a custom grey suit?" she asked an old stallion, dark black tufts of hair protruding from the top of his head. He shook his head, confused.

She repeated the question to almost everypony, each of them saying no. She had made her way through the room to where the hall to the restrooms were apparent. That's it! He must've just gone to do some business. She made her way down to the male's room, and cracked the door open. A foul smell was produced from her actions, coming from deeper inside. She opened the door wider and stepped in. Her hooves clacked against the tiled floor, echoing across the walls.

"Berry? Where are you, Berry?" she called out, her voice dying out. The smell grew more noticeable as she made her way down the stalls. She looked under the floor of each. The first and second were normal, but the third had a dark liquid oozing out from the side. She tried to swing it open, but she was ineffective. It was locked. She looked at the dark liquid more, seeping in all the details. It was brown in the darkness. She dropped her muzzle down to it and smelled it.

It smelled like shit.

She chuckled for her own foolishness. Somepony had crapped themselves in here, not getting to the toilet in time. She looked under the third stall, cautious to not connect her mane with the speckled slime. She didn't see any hooves protruding below the toilet. She went to the fourth stall, and it was unlocked. She swung it opened to see a horrible sight.

"Aaaaahh-"

Her scream was cut short when a hoof covered her face with a sheet of cloth. She was muffled, but still audible from outside the room. A sweet smell came to her nostrils, and she suddenly felt tired. Her black eyelashes felt like a thousand tons, and they started to droop. She stopped screaming, and eventually dropped into an eternal pit of blackness.

I | Chapter One

The Istallion lieutenant slowly trotted across the velvet carpet, approaching the bathrooms. His cutiemark represented a police badge, and he had a black-brown mane on top of a tan coat. It was his first case for a long, long time, since he took a long break for injuries, and he was prepared. He wore his blue hat with pride, his golden badge shining upon the top of his chest. It shined in the florescent lighting all the forensic scientists had put up. The whole crime scene was a mess. Hoofprints were covering the floor, since everypony had galloped out of the room as soon as the scream was heard. At least, that's what a witness said. He racked his brain, looking for all the details.

A mother had been kidnapped, her son had been slaughtered, and everypony had ran. Not much to go off of, but it would have to do. It was better than some cases, like the one with the sick stallion who robbed cash-redeemers, letting his flopper out on the camera. He made his way across the room, his hooves sinking into the floor below him, to the bathroom door. He creaked it open and was met with the same, foul smell as before. His muzzle crinkled. The colt had shat himself in fear when he was murdered, or at least that's what the scientists predicted. The brown puddle had been cleared around, the surface surrounding the muck sparkling with chemical cleaning products. Why the hell would they clean the area around a pile of crap. Why do we need a pile of crap, he thought to himself.

He swung the fourth stall's door open and saw the same grisly sight as before. I shouldn't have ate breakfast yet. The colt was sprawled across the toilet, barrel sliced open, his organs littering the floor. He stepped away from the queasy sight, and then he heard the flush of a toilet from the first stall. Unbe-fucking-lievable. Somepony was using the bathroom in a scene of crime.

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" He tried to open it, but it was locked. He the clacking of hooves against ceramic. He busted his hoof on the door, filled with anger. The door swung open, and the earth pony's jaw dropped.

"Hello, my dear Vincent." The alabaster unicorn said in a southern accent, stepping out of the way, light shining through his sculpted features. His mane was blond, but it was so pale you could've thought it was also white. His eyes were like ice, and his cutiemark resembled an eagle with an eye overhead, with less than a half moon on the left, and a full moon on the right. He wore a black suit, with a white shirt under it, all of it unwrinkled. A silky red tie hung from his neck. He looked like an undertaker.

"Pendergast? How in the- I thought you were- Why are you here?!" Vincent D'Agosta stood there, confused. Pendergast had disappeared for months after the last time he had saw him. But here the FBI pony was, nonchalant at the scene of crime after vanishing for months.

"A long story, and I'd rather not delve into it," he replied. He trotted out of the room, and D'Agosta was forced to follow.

"Why are you working on this case? It looks cold, a random murder and kidnapping."

"I do not think that this is the only crime to be committed by the perpetrator. And now, I must go home. It is getting quite late, wouldn't you agree?" Without another word, he trotted out of the room. It looked like he had already collected samples of everything. Being Pendergast's friend was both a conundrum and an asset, the lieutenant thought, annoyed at no further explanations.

The silver vehicle swerved across the roads, at speeds just below the limit. The gloomy sky reflected off its pure surface. Inside was a snow-white pony. The buildings and pedestrians were a blur through the window. After an hour of driving, they arrived at a rundown mansion, looking abandoned for years, but looks can be deceiving. The vehicle parked on the curb, and the white stallion slammed the door shut behind him. The butler-looking pony opened the driver's door and stepped out, also shutting it behind him.

"Proctor, please take the rest of the day off." The chauffeur silently nodded and went past Pendergast, into the mansion. Pendergast trotted slowly towards the door ahead of him, the family crest engraved above the door -- an eagle with an eye overhead, two moons on the sides. He opened it and its hinges creaked. He stepped into the gaping hole of blackness and shut the door behind him, locking it. His hooves went across the old-but-beautiful wooden floor until they came upon a door. The knob glowed in a spectral light, turning. A warm hearth greeted him at the far side of the room, surrounded by tall bookshelves. There were two velvet seats between the fireplace, one holding an eye-widening mare. She was also a unicorn, and had a brown, soft mane upon a pale white coat of fur. She was burrowed in a book, but at the stallion's arrival, she looked up. Her cutiemark was a book with bones on it. She wore a white, silk dress. She looked about twenty, but looks were deceiving. A tall painting loomed over the fire, a depiction of a sun setting between two islands in a dark blue ocean. It was an original.

"Hello, Aloysius," she greeted, her voice in an old fashion. She set her book upon the table between the two chairs and looked up at him expectantly.

"Greetings, Constance," he replied, going to the chair. He sat on it and pulled out a book from one of the shelves with magic. His brow furrowed as he delved into it, seeping in every word.

"You seem worried." Her face was a mask of no emotion when she said it.

"That's an opinion."

"It's a fact."

The agent sighed. "A new case has popped up, and it's displeasing. It has the same pattern as my last case. Rich ponies getting kidnapped. Perhaps I can get your opinion?"

She smirked when she heard it, as Pendergast always asked his oracle for the answers of hard questions. She was more than a century old, after all. She had to be the smartest pony in Equestria, knowing how to decipher almost every language. Germane, Istallion, and many other languages, most of them being ancient. She couldn't speak most of them, but she could read and write any of them. Leng had helped her in learning.

"It can be an inside job maybe, an elegant pony attacking others, but it could also be a poor pony bitter at them as well."

"Well yes, that's obvious," Pendergast looked annoyed at the simple options, "but neither fits all the descriptions.

"What if it's both?"

Pendergast's eyes shot up at the idea. "Constance, you're a genius." He immediately galloped out of the room, his book trailing after him. His clopping echoed across the house, and Constance chuckled. She was Pendergast's ward, yet he always came to him for answers. She was still grateful for his care.

Pendergast ran towards the elevator leading to the maze of basements under the house. Once inside, he pressed a button to make it go down. After a moment of gears turning, the doors opened again and he was met with a concrete room. He pressed his hoof against the outer wall, and it turned to reveal a staircase spiraling deeper into a dark abyss. He trotted down, not needing light. After several minutes, he was in a lab. He pulled out all the evidence and supplies he had so far. A blue strand of hair, blood from the colt, a dry rag, and many tubes filled with tiny specks of substances. He immediately began working, pouring chemicals into beakers, and testing everything out. He kept on for the whole night, not sleeping. He put the hair into a beaker and poured a chemical solution into it. He watched the clear solution bubble until it changed color, turning to a bright blue.

This was good.

It was only after the sun started to come up that the stallion arose from the labs, his suit filled with tubes containing various things.

I | Chapter Two

D'Agosta walked across the sidewalks of Manehattan, his side arm in his holster. His destination was towards the more slums area of the city, where more homeless and poor were. They practically built their own mini-town, which was very respectable, but most of them lived below ground in the winding tunnels under the shining jewel of Equestria. It seemed a million busy ponies were out and about their daily business. He could hear car horns blaring all around him, angry ponies shouting obscenities at others, and of course the never ending talk of the ponies around him. It was a busy day, and the traffic was practically at Rush Hour. His plan was to see what he could find from the poorer ponies, but they wouldn't talk on their own. He'd need leverage. If he couldn't find anything, he'd go and do the interview with Octavia's family early.

His mind went back to Pendergast. His history is a swamp of unknowns, and he was his best, if not only, friend. They met on a case where some lizard beast had been terrorizing the Museum. It had been a long one, and pretty wild, but he still remembered one of the first ways he noticed how good of a FBI detective Pendergast was. A red painting was near the scene of crime, a sunset of something. Pendergast rambled on about it, saying that the red was the exact same shade of blood. Then he wiped his hoof across the red part of the painting, revealing that the killer had wiped blood over it. Of course, there were several other cases that proved his abilities further. But besides that, he didn't know anything about the unicorn's family past, besides his brother Diogenes, but he's a whole other wild card. One thing he knew for sure, though, was that he got results. He always got results.

He was only a block away from Pinkie's, a place where you went there for the alcohol and stayed for the entertainment. The sky scrapers around him protruded from the dirt below, their windows shining. The morning sun had only come up an hour ago, and it seemed the perfect time for the lieutenant to go and get some information. After a minute of walking, he was finally in front of the shining building. A glass window had the typical neon sign saying OPEN, but this place was anything but typical. Above the window and door was a larger neon sign portraying a pink pony throwing her forelegs up, with bold letters saying Pinkie's beside the image, also in pink. He walked in and was greeted with the hum of music, chatter, and glasses clinking. It was dim inside, but comfortable. Tables were laid all around, with a variety of ponies seated in each. There were average ponies, alcoholics, jokers, and groups of friends. He trotted past these to the bartender who stood before a long counter, stools standing around it. The place was a little more packed than usual, but that didn't mind. He sat up on one of them, and was greeted by the mare behind the counter. They both knew each other, since D'Agosta was a common visitor of this establishment. The bartender wore a cowpony hat, with a yellow mane, an orange coat, freckles, a cutie mark of apples, and sparkling green eyes. Below the hat was a brown jacket above a black shirt. She flashed a grin at D'Agosta.

"What can Ah getcha'?" She grabbed a rag and started rubbing out the inside of a mug.

"The usual, but a little less hard, AJ. I'm doing some stuff after this."

Applejack smirked knowingly. "Less alcohol? But that's your favorite."

"Haha, very funny." He started to pull out some bits, but the orange mare stopped her, one leg leaning against the surface.

"It's on the house, Vincent. You're doing business after this, and Ah might as well give ya some charity for protectin' the city." She grinned slyly, filling up the now-polished mug with soft cider from the second barrel behind her. The first contained non-alcoholic cider, and the third contained hard cider. The second was somewhere in the middle. Her eyes sparkled, and D'Agosta got lost in them for a moment. He remembered what he was doing when the glass of apple cider was set in front of him. He grabbed it and took a gulp. He raised his muzzle, foam dripping.

"Oh, and if I can' I'd like some to-go. I'm gonna need some hard cider if I want to persuade somepony."

"Sure thang, sugarcube!" She got a large bottle, put it under the third barrel, and squeezed some out. She got a cork and stuffed it inside the bottle until it was jammed in there. It was easy enough to get out, if you just used your teeth.

"Thanks." D'Agosta took another gulp, and another until the glass was empty.

"Need a refill?" Apple Jack planned on getting him drunk.

"Yeah, I'm gonna go see Pinkie on the stage real quick. Then I'll be on my way." Apple Jack stuffed the bottle of amber liquid into a brown bag and handed it to the lieutenant. Then she took his glass and refilled it, also hoofing it over to him. He thanked her before walking around all the tables to the door leading to the stage.

In a dark corner lay a black figure staring at the tan stallion and the orange mare. The pony quickly jotted something down before vanishing into the darkness beyond.

The police pony pushed open the door leading to the stage. Tonight, Pinkie was telling some pretty cheesy jokes. D'Agosta made his way through the packed tables until he found an empty one. He sat down, let out a breath, and put down his bag and mug. He took smaller sips of from the cider, getting a slight buzz. The room was vast, with a tall ceiling and long, black walls. The floor was a dark wood, and the ceiling was littered with stage lights, currently lighting up the empty stage. A crimson curtain was upon the stage. Everypony waited for the one and only joker pony to appear.

The lights dimmed on the audience and brightened on the stage. The curtain ruffled and a pink earth pony stepped out, her hair a giant floofy pile, in contrast to her middle class clothing (A red-and-black striped vest over a white collared shirt. Her cutie mark portrayed three balloons, and she wore a grin that went ear to ear.

She yelled out in a cheery, squeaky voice, "Heya everypony? What's the healthiest animal that lives in a pond?" This was met with attentive eyes. "The asparageese!" Laughter rang around the room, and even the lieutenant laughed at the cheesy joke.

She kept on. "What's a snake's favorite dessert? The Pie-thon!" More laughs were introduced. "What's coffee's most monstrous rival? The Tea Rex!" She jumped up at the corny joke, applause coming from all sides. D'Agosta couldn't stand anymore of her goofy jokes, so he made his way out the door. He was greeted with a wave to the bartender pony as left the cozy bar, carrying the bottle at his side. He left his mug there on the table, half full, so that somepony else could get a buzz. He already had one, and didn't want to get completely drunk. He made his way down the city to the slummy area.

The skyscrapers turned into normal shops, and the normal shops eventually turned into dead neighborhoods, buildings vandalized, with the homeless gathered around barrels of fire, and poor ponies going back to their homes with barred windows. He heard gunshots in the distance, some colts probably shooting street lights, but that wasn't what he was after. He was actually good friends with one of these poor ponies, her name being Rainbow Dash. She was a pegasus with bright-blue fur, and a rainbow colored mane. D'Agosta thought that she might have information, since she was kind of the leader of the homeless and poor around this area. She lived in a barred house, with about five other ponies who all worked together to pay rent, since they couldn't get any good jobs besides working in a factory off shore or clearing the sky. The latter is what Rainbow Dash did.

D'agosta approached the dirty house and knocked his hoof against the door. It shuddered against it's frame, not being repaired for years. He heard a bolt slide back, and the lieutenant was greeted by a dirty looking stallion, a bottle of beer in his hoof. He looked completely wasted.

"Is Rainbow Dash home?"

"Who wahnts tah know?" he asked, his voice slurred and with an accent. He would've toppled over if it weren't for the weak door frame to lean on.

"I'm her friend, D'Agosta."

"Oh, you, she's naht home." He nearly collapsed before shutting the door. Well, that was useless. D'Agosta turned around and saw the cyan-furred mare staring at her, smiling. She wore a saddlebag, packed to the brim with bits, collected from clearing out the skies. She was the most efficient pegasus in the whole city, it seemed, but she liked living in her humble neighborhood, leading these ponies. She had told him that she usually buys tons of food with the bits and throws it around to everypony. That's probably why she's popular from everypony in the area. Hobos in the tunnels, however, hated everypony. There was once a raid down there, issued from a previous mayor, but it was a failed attempt, and their overwhelming force was slaughtered. Days after the blood bath, a pony's skin was mailed to the police department, with the words STAY OUT written in blood. It was more than enough to convince them that if the police didn't mess with them, they wouldn't mess with the police. D'Agosta's idea of his current case included the underground homeless as the perps, since the surface homeless were led by Rainbow Dash.

"Hi, Vincent!" He jumped at the sight of her appearing behind him.

"Oh, uh, hi Rainbow. Mind if we, uh, have a chat real quick? Just take a walk?" He gasped deeply from the jump scare in between words.

"Sure thing, bro!" she replied cheerily. She had a large tuft of blue fur poking out from above a brown, ragged shirt. It looked like a potato sack with holes cut into it.

They trotted away from the house, Rainbow Dash dropping the bits in through the door first. Or at least D'Agosta did, but Rainbow Dash hovered above him, gulping down the contents of the brown bag. She loved cider, hard or not.

"So, you haven't had anything weird with you're friends, right?" D'Agosta stopped, scratching his neck. He felt awkward, talking about the ponies that Rainbow Dash valued so much when he saw them as... Well, homeless.

"Nothing besides you, but you're always weird." She chuckled and tossed the empty bag over the road, hitting a rundown house's window. She silently pumped her hoof up. She looked like she was getting drunk already, wobbling in the air.

"Well, it's just that a case of mine is a bit weird. A source states that there's going to be a lot more kidnappings, but there was a large party where somepony got kidnapped. It was at Octavia's family's estate. Would you know anything about it? Maybe somepony of yours knows something?"

Rainbow Dash drunkly feigned being hurt. "What do you take my friends for, killers?" She giggled before continuing, burping in the process. "I know somepony who was at the party, asking for bits. Her name was Mildew, had a green coat. I don't know where she is, though. You'll have to search." She burped again before falling onto the grass, rolling around. She really couldn't handle hard cider too well, could she?

"Mildew?" D'Agosta repeated, pulling out a notebook and a pen, writing with his mouth.

"Yeaaah, she's got a bright yellow mane and a swirly tail. She usually hangs out at Octavia's or that fashionista's place, the one with the purple swirly hair. She looks like piss." Her eyes started to droop. "Man, today was so hard. I stayed up all night working, and only now am I back. I'ma just..." She passed out onto the grass. D'Agosta left her be, since she probably wouldn't get mugged by her own ponies. He put back his notepad, threw a bit onto her stomach, and started his trek through ponies and traffic to the tailor of Manehattan. She was most likely who Rainbow Dash was talking about. Although he'd never really met her personally, D'Agosta knew about her, and of her skill. She was closer to him than Octavia's estate was, so he'd go there first.

***   ***   ***

D'Agosta arrived at the building the "fashionista" lived and worked in. Pendergast had called earlier, telling him that he'd visit Octavia, and they'd meet at Pinkie's to fill out the details of their findings. He had already told the agent of his findings about the piss pony. He waved his thanks to the taxi driver and inspected the shop. It was painted white, with a large, golden plate stating Rarity's Fashion Franchise. He put his hoof on the door and pushed it open. His senses were all assaulted, seeing a million different colored dresses, smelling the scent of air spray, and hearing the loud raking of a machine. A white unicorn stood in the middle of the room in distress, twenty different instruments glowing around her. Her purple mane, which Rainbow Dash described as in perfect swirls, was in ruins, crunched up with stray hairs everywhere. She wore a simple, white collared shirt. The cloth around her, however, was in many different sizes and colors. As soon as their eyes met, she threw every tool she hovered into the corners of the room, giving a sheepish smile of embarrassment at her disheveled state.

"Hello, officer," the white mare started in a snob's accent, "what can I do for you? A cleaning for your suit?" Beads of sweat dropped from her brow. Her horn was still glowing, and D'Agosta followed a glow in the corner of the room and saw a measuring stick going across a ponyquin.

"Well, I came here for some answers about a recent crime, not clothes."

She dropped everything, stopping her breathing. "Wha? Officer, I promise, I didn't do anything! I... I... I didn't do anything, I swear! Ask anyone, I was here all day and night! I'm innocent! Don't take me to jail with the poor ponies!" She gasped, but D'Agosta stopped her before she could keep going.

"Don't worry, Miss. It's not concerning you. I just wanted to ask questions."

"I swear I'm- Oh, uh." She stopped, her cheeks going red. "Of course, officer."

"Alright, I first wanted to ask you if you've seen a pony fitting the description I have. Her name is Mildew, with a yellow mane, a swirled tail, and a green coat. Goes by the nickname as 'Piss Pony.'" He had to add the nickname for the confusion on who he guessed was Rarity.

Oh, her." Annoyance and recognition flashed across her face, but she quickly recovered. "I've had to chase that gutter punk away from my store multiple times. She always hangs out near the door, asking for pony. Her and her kind are the scum of the city." D'Agosta winced at the final comment, since one of his best friends was a poor pony. He dismissed it with a fake wipe of his nose. This disgusted Rarity more than former fact would've. She quickly threw a tissue at him, which he denied.

"Could you give me a more detailed description of her, or maybe other locations she's always at?"

"Well, I know for a fact that she was torturing the civilized ponies at Octavia's party. I don't know much more about her other than her mane and fur color, however. I'm sorry if I'm not of much use. That rat is quite a rascal, however, always a trouble maker. If the news is correct about that murder near Octavia's estate, I'd bet that Mildew did it. Oh, and she's a unicorn as well. Might want to watch out for her tricks." She hissed out the last word. "Anything else, sir?"

"Uh, no, that's all." His first impressions of Rarity were not one's of kindness. It was quite the opposite. Everypony called her generous, but right now she seemed just the opposite. "Thank you for you're time, please report to the police if you have anymore information on this specific pony or the kidnapping at Octavia's." He snapped his notebook shut, stuffed it into his mane along with a pen, and trotted out the door. He was greeted by the bustling of the large city of Manehattan. He slowly went to Pinkie's, figuring he'd wait there until Pendergast came.

In an alleyway across the street from the boutique, a pony was shrouded in shadow. He stared at the lieutenant as he left for the bar, flipping out her horn with the glow of some magic. She had overheard the conversation, and she wasn't amused. The phone ringed two times before being answered by a wary "Hello?"

"Rodney? I need you to call D'Agosta up to the PD before he gets to his bar."

"Got it, Miss Sparkle."

The unicorn flipped the phone shut and stuffed it in her saddlebag, smirking. She was going to be damned if he started with that agent again.

I | Chapter Three

The mare sat there at her desk, twiddling her hooves. Her pristine navy mane was bundled up with fashion because of the harsh weather outside, and the light shone off of her silver necklace, the blue gem inside sparkling. Her personality was anything but sparkling, however. Apparently, an agent was here to see her. She'd had one of her butlers take care of him, delivering him some pleasantries while she got ready. The only problem was that she was ready, she was just trying to prolong the inevitable. She felt a presence over her shoulder, and jumped when she turned to see a white unicorn, who looked like an undertaker.

She nearly fell out of her chair, ready to scream out security! What stopped her was the visible reproach of the stallion, his horn glowing as he pulled out a wallet. He flopped it open to let her examine a shining, gold badge with Federal Bureau of Investigation stamped on it.

"How in the bollocks did you-?"

"The door was left ajar, and I thought I'd let myself in. I see that you have some... Shall we say, interesting deals going on." He barely had let it show, but a tiny smirk flashed across his face for a millisecond. She felt the rage burning her veins when she got up, touching her hair back up. She quickly stuffed the papers into an empty drawer and stood there in front of it. The audacity of this pony was absolutely astounding.

"But the door wasn't-"

"So, Miss Lapiz," he interrupted again, closing the door behind him -- she swore that she could hear the click of a lock -- slowly, "I came here on the kidnapping at your estate. I was hoping you'd shed some light on this issue." This time he let a smile out, but it was a charismatic one. This was an outrage. She was about to yell out for security, hoping it would make this bastard scurry, until the stallion gave her a warning look. "I believe you and I both know of your estate, and how you have a muffling spell cast on your office."

"How do you know this?!" Her cheeks reddened. She was the only one to know this!

"It was obvious. I heard much bustling behind that door," he nodded his head behind him, "but now it seems to have ceased." He invited himself onto the cushioned couch in front of the desk. A moment of tension, so sharp that it could slice somepony's throat, stood in the room. This long stage of silence gave her an opportunity to seep in the other pony's details. He was completely white, and his eyes were like cold, hard ice. He wore a custom-made black suit, with a white shirt under it. His cutie mark was some sort of symbol, but she could be bothered less to care of this intruder's cutiemark. All cops had just about the same cutiemark, but this one was a bit different. She looked at his flank more closely, moving her head over the desk, but then she caught this fellow's eyes.

"If you can, Miss Lapiz, I'd prefer to keep this meeting professional." Now he was antagonizing her! "Now, I'd like to get all the minor details first." A small notepad appeared from his suit, along with a golden pen. "Can you give me the times of all the events planned for this party? And the list of party goers, of course."

She grumbled a response as she opened another drawer and pulled out a long list, pushing it across to his side of the desk. He levitated it over to himself and stuffed it inside his suit. He gave her an inquiring look, asking her to respond to the former.

"It was just a small party with some food, a celebration for my daughter's recent success. No other planned events. It was supposed to last five hours, starting at six o'clock, until this mess and the publicity that came with it."

"Can you recall when everypony screamed and ran out?" he asked, jotting some things down.

"It was at about eight." This was followed with more sounds of a pen scratching against paper.

"Okay, now, do you know anypony named Mildew? She's homeless."

She scoffed. "Why in the devil would I associate me with such scum like them? It's bad enough that I must be among middle-class families."

"Do you know anypony who might be against you or the people that stand with you?"

She was about to reply with you, but thought better of it. "Nopony but the retched homeless."

"Do you know the names of the murdered colt and the kidnapped?"

"No, I do not. I'm sure you'll find them on you're list."

The stallion had stopped listening, gazing past her. She followed his stare and saw the beautiful original of a painting, a vast blue sea with the sun shining over it, islands in the distance. A true piece of art, and it had cost a heavy price. Or at least, it would've if not for it being a fake.

"It's a beautiful piece of art. Mind if I inspect it?" Without waiting for an answer, he got up and trotted over to it, inspecting it. The top shades of the painting were crimson, slowly turning to an orange, then with a blue ocean underneath.

"It's an original by the master himself," she lied, grinning.

"It's very interesting." Before she could react, he quickly yanked it off the wall and threw it across the room with telekinesis. His actions revealed a safe stamped into the wall. Despite the raging fire in her core, it was dominated by worry, for the safe contained information on the past of her family. "Indeed it is, since it's obviously fake. I know what's in there, and I just need access to it. Would you be so kind as to hand it over?"

"You... You bastard! I'll have you're head for that!" She tried to be angry, but her face was drained of color.

"You'll have my head for tossing an illegally made painting, hm?" His piercing eyes met hers, and she was startled by their intensity.

"Th- You- You just vandalized my property!"

"Let's get back to the matter at hand, Miss Lapiz."

"I refuse to tell you anything!" A long moment of stasis ran between them again, until the white unicorn spoke up again.

"What do you think of the public?" The randomness of the question startled her for a moment.

"Uh, I don't know."

"What if they knew of you're past? Of how you were unsuccessful, and how all of your family fortune came from illegal deals and murders. I doubt that there couldn't be information on some family feuds in that vault." He drawled out his words, making them excruciatingly slow in his honeyed accent.

"You wouldn't dare!" She tried to give a dangerous glare, but his eyes were like daggers, countering her's.

"Oh, I'd dare."

"Hmph, it wouldn't matter anyway," she said, brushing it off nonchalantly, "since it's all in the past. My dear Octavia is the one bringing in money for the family now."

"Octavia?"

"Yes, she is my daughter, my project, and I've put nearly eighteen years of money and effort into her." She smiled proudly, but it was only met with a strange glance.

"Funny that you describe her like that."

"Like what?"

"You say nothing of you're love for her, nothing of how proud you are of her, only of how proud you are of yourself for feeding her to be what she is now. And you see her as a project? What would Octavia do if she heard about this?" Before he had finished his sentence, Lapiz immediately knew she had lost. It was unimaginable, losing all of her riches, and having her daughter run off with that horrible mare and her horrible, scratchy music. The visitor had read her mind and continued.

"You don't care that she'll dislike her own mother, only that you'll lose you're fame. A sad tale, especially if I told it to Octavia."

Lapiz slumped in defeat. "Please, don't tell her." She got up and trotted over to the safe, tapping in a code and opening it, tossing the papers at the unicorn. "You'd better not tell anypony of this. I know some ponies in high places."

"Threatening an agent won't get you anywhere." He snatched all the papers, stuffed them into his suit, and made for the door, unlocking it. So he did lock the door. She stared at the pony making his way towards the door, and it was only when it softly shut that she realized she didn't even get the pony's name. She stuffed her face into her hooves.

***   ***   ***

D'Agosta stood at the bar, sipping his cider. Pendergast was supposed to be here half an hour ago, but he couldn't be angry. He was sure he'd come back with results. Apple Jack stood in front of her, also drinking some cider. The bar was more empty than before, which was surprising when you thought of how many alcoholics came here under the cover of the night. He'd gotten a call earlier, but he just let it ring. He didn't really want to be bothered now, especially since he and Pendergast were swapping information.

"Ya' 'v been her' for a while," the orange earth pony said, trying to come up with small talk since they'd been alone for the past ten minutes, running out of conversation topics. She dug her hooves into the counter top, bored. She raised her eyes and they widened. D'Agosta turned his head and saw a white unicorn in an open black suit.

"Pendergast, you're here!" he said, happy to see his friend again.

"Hello, my dear Vincent. I hope we can help each other with this, since my past case will require some knowledge from this one. It never closed, as I requested from my superiors." He stopped for a moment, glancing at the bartender. "You must be Apple Back?"

"Applejack, but ya got it close 'nuff," she said, slapping her hoof on the counter for the gentleman, a grin on her face. Pendergast took it and shook, sitting down on one of the stools. As he started pulling out documents and papers, D'Agosta sent a stare at Applejack that said you should probably leave now. She got the message and smiled, going into the door leading to Pinkie's stage. The door bounced shut, Pendergast waiting for complete silence before he spoke. Once D'Agosta had gotten his notes out, they began to converse.

"So, uh, what did you get?" the lieutenant asked.

"We have some papers of Octavia's mother, Lapiz, and her past. Quite gruesome, with lots of crimes, and I believe we can find some families that might've wanted to get revenge. There is, however, the possibility that the poor just wanted to get revenge. I find this hypothesis troublesome because of the fact that the party was strictly for the highest class of ponies in Manehattan. That leaves us with three options." He stopped, giving a look to D'Agosta that told him to finish his sentence.

"Okay, so either a high class pony wanted revenge for her past crimes, or a poor or homeless pony snuck in. I don't see any third option, though."

"Perhaps a poor pony who stole a high class pony's outfit could've gotten in." Pendergast gave a sly smile, levitating some papers over. D'Agosta thought of this for a moment. It definitely was possible. "So, what did you find?"

"Well," the stallion started with a sigh, "definitely not as much as you did. I do know a profile of somepony of interest. Apparently, she's pretty rowdy. Her name is Mildew, a unicorn, with a yellow mane and a green coat, as well as a swirled tail. Nopony I asked knew about her cutiemark, though. She usually hangs out by Rarity's boutique, and she was at the entrance of the party when it was happening." Before he could continue, his phone buzzed. He was going to ignore it, but it kept on, even after the buzzing died out. Damn, what the hell is it with this pony? He pulled it out, and was barraged by screams.

"I've. Called. You. TWICE!" a furious mare's voice screeched. D'Agosta quickly got up, realizing who it was, and started to walk towards a corner, listening to more bombardments. Pendergast didn't even look, staring into space.

"Where were you?!"

"What were you doing?!"

"What in the hell!"

"Look," D'Agosta started, "I was busy." He left it at that, and immediately winced at his decision to do so.

"Do you know how long it was since the first time I called you?"

"Um..."

"Two hours!" the voice screeched. He heard a loud crash from the other end, and guessed that the commissioner had thrown her phone. A long pause followed until her loud voice returned.

"Good Celestia, just come to my office now and I'll discuss the problem."

"Uh," D'Agosta started stuttering, trying to come up with a lie, "I, um, I was, er, I'm in bed right now." A long, angry sigh was the result of this.

"Fine. But you best come to my office the moment you wake up. If not, I'll have your ass on a silver platter." A sharp beep came once she hung up. D'Agosta put the phone away and sighed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. Especially if she is the angry one.

"Uh, hey Pendergast," he paused when he turned around to see Pendergast and his documents gone. Damn you.

Applejack poked her head out the door and looked at him. "Something go wrong?"

"Hell, everything is wrong." Apple Jack trotted up to him behind the bar and started filling a mug with hard cider.

"Need some?" she asked, waving it in front of his face.

"Some? Hell, I'll need all of it for the day I'm having tomorrow."

Pendergast flipped open his phone and made a call as he walked towards the more dangerous and rundown part of Manehatten, where his grand home was.

The otherwise dark room was glowing from the light that flowed from the monitors. A small chair sat in front of all of them, and the rapid sounds of a hoof hitting a key could be heard from across the small house. The occupant of the chair nearly had a heart attack when his personal phone rang. Only three people knew his phone number. Grunting, a striped leg reached out for the phone. He guessed it was Charles again. He flipped it open and raised it to his ear. The caller was the first to speak.

"Mime? I'm to call in a favor."

The figure on the chair bounced up with glee, recognizing the voice.

"Hypocrite lecture, you've finally called again. I was worried you had vanished." The chair swung around and an old zebra stepped off of it.

"No," the caller said, "but I do need some information that might've vanished. Two pieces, actually."

"Name them," Mime said without interest, trotting back to his cushioned chair. He swiveled it back towards the glowing monitors.

"I'd like you to dig up everything you can about Octavia's mother's past. Before that, I need you to track down somepony in Manehatten. Her name is Mildew, she's a unicorn, and she has a yellow mane and a green coat, cutiemark unknown. Apparently the most noticeable feature of her is her swirled tail."

Mime snorted. "Please, I can have that done by tomorrow. The Octavia business, however, might take a little bit longer."

"That's exactly why I'm asking somezebra of your skill." The call ended briefly. Mime rarely liked conversing with anypony, but that was different with Pendergast. He immediately started tapping.

I | Chapter Four

The brown stallion stood at the entrance of the commissioner's office, her door closed. Drinking had been a horrible idea, because now he was cursed with a horrible hangover. He slumped against the wall, gulping down his steaming coffee, trying to rid himself of his slight drunkenness, and replacing it with the movements of a caffeine junkie. The normal bustle of One Police Plaza happened around him -- the sound of small talk, coffee hitting a clean mug, ponies rushing around on their own cases, the scratching of pencils against paper, and lots more that would give even a yoga instructor headaches. He felt lazy as all hell, his eyelids feeling like lead. He wanted to just go back to his small office, sit in his chair, and take a nap, but he knew that wasn't possible with the commissioner's pissedness. He had really ticked her off, and there was no avoiding the small meeting that was laid before him. He stared at the dark door, no light coming through the cracks. I might as well get it over with.

He pushed the door open and saw her, the impeccable mare, sitting behind a long, polished desk. Unlike most commissioners, her whole room was covered with garbage: posters, pictures, and other things, as well as normal things like documents and family pictures. He stared at one of them, a little lavender foal standing under a dark blue unicorn. He avoided eye contact, just standing at the door. Opposite to the walls, her wooden desk was completely cleared out, besides a golden plaque that had Twilight Sparkle embedded into it. She looked at him expectantly. He knew he couldn't do this forever, so he looked at her. Her dark purple hair gleamed from the light above, with a pink and purple streak. Her horn protruded from her bangs, and below it was an unamused expression.

"Well?" she asked expectantly. D'Agosta slowly sat down on the chair across from the desk, the noises echoing in the silent room. She looked like a lioness about to pounce, ready to counter whatever D'Agosta said.

"Sorry, Miss Sparkle-"

"Commissioner Sparkle," she corrected him.

"I'm sorry, Commissioner Sparkle, but I was working on the case."

"You call drinking in a bar working on a case?" she said viciously, baring her teeth. She was fuming. He was wondering how did she know that, but the answer came just as swiftly. She had eyes everywhere, yet she never used them to solve crime. Instead, she stalked her own. D'Agosta knew that he couldn't tell her about Pendergast coming on the case, since he and the NYPD had some history. The FBI in general had beef with the NYPD, since neither could ever cooperate with each other. This was easily proven by every time the FBI encountered a case that they claimed as federal. D'Agosta, and maybe somepony else that he didn't know, was the only one who was friends with an FBI agent, let alone his best pal.

D'Agosta was snapped back to reality by the commissioner's screeching. "I know you're working with that bastard agent!"

"It's mutual, he has a case that is linked to mine, and so we're helping each other. And besides, you know how good he is."

"That imbecile works off of hunches," she hissed. Now D'Agosta was getting mad. She was only hassling him because she hated Pendergast, but he was going to be damned if he let her keep on insulting him.

"He's better then you ever will be," D'Agosta unintentionally blurted out. His cheeks reddened as the unicorn's face pierced through him.

"Excuse me?" Her voice was venomous. Before she could continue, a loud knocking sounded behind D'Agosta. He turned his head, hearing the knocking again at the door. A voice started coming out of a tiny speaker at the corner of her desk.

"Commissioner Sparkle? Uh, I'm sorry I couldn't do anything, but-" the receptionist's voice died out when the visitor opened the door on his own accord. D'Agosta's eyes immediately lit up when he saw a marble unicorn with a black suit.

Twilight stared at him with more hate than D'Agosta had ever seen. "I'm sorry, but I'm in the middle of a meeting." She said it in a passive aggressive tone that silently said get the fuck out, I'm busy.

Pendergast nodded. "I'm aware." Twilight gave her a lengthy stare. Pendergast disregarded it with his silver eyes, instead looking at the Istallion lieutenant. "Vincent, I would like to have a talk with you. I've formulated a plan, and it is simple in essence, but hard in play. I'd like you're assistance." His southern accent was like honey, but it didn't fool the lavender mare in front of them.

"I said," she hissed, looking ready to kill, "we're in a meeting." Pendergast paid no visible attention to what she said, and rather flashed out his wallet, letting it flop out to reveal a golden logo that said Federal Bureau of Investigation.

"I'm dearly sorry, Twilight, but this is important, and I'm considering moving this case to a," oh shit, here it comes, D'Agosta thought as Pendergast said it, "federal level." The commissioner stomped her hooves, getting up.

"What gives you permission?" she said poisonously, her voice cracking midway.

"You see, Twilight-"

"COMMISSIONER!" she yelled.

"I have an unfinished case in Hooflyn, only a short distance from here, so it's safe to assume that these two cases are linked, since they are almost the exact same. Now if I may-?" He nodded to D'Agosta when he asked the question.

She was about to say no again until giving out a sigh of defeat. "Fine." She directed D'Agosta's attention to her with a jab of a hoof. "Don't expect that this is over."

D'Agosta silently exited with Pendergast, Twilight's eyes following until the door closed. The sounds around them returned, everypony having something to do, such as eating donuts or doing paperwork. "Thanks for pulling me outta that mess. So, what did you need? What's the plan?" he said. Pendergast looked both left and right before answering.

"I think we might need a place a little less public," he replied.

***   ***   ***

After collecting their bits, Applejack got the two pals some cups of mid-way cider. D'Agosta was hesitant, since he still felt a slight hangover, but with some coaxing from the bartender he was filled with both resignation and warm cider. Applejack flashed him and the white stallion beside him a yellow-white smile, her freckles going up. They had decided once they got to the empty bar that Applejack could help with the case, maybe seeing who comes in, or putting up a Missing Pony picture for Mildew. Pendergast was still a little hesitant to let her on the case, since he didn't know her.

"This sure is gonna be fun. Ah'm gonna be a cop, bustin' some perps if I see 'em and lookin' out for criminals," she said, taking a sip of her own hard cider. D'Agosta wondered how she was so alcohol tolerant, since she seemed to be drinking something every time he saw her. He'd call her an alcoholic, but she wasn't. Applejack had proven before that she can go forever without a drink on a trip with him to Ponyville. It was on his vacation days when it turned out that the place he'd wanted to stay, the country of Germane, didn't have any routes available. They were all canceled, and so he had decided to hang out with Applejack. She had to go and get a large shipment of apples, because apparently she'd have somepony who worked run off with them. She didn't care that they'd been stolen, not bringing it up with any law enforcement (besides D'Agosta), and she invited him to come with her to a ranch in Ponyville. It was a five day trip, and it sure was great. Only then did D'Agosta notice how attractive she was. He found himself getting lost in her smile, awoken by Pendergast.

"Huh?" he said.

"I thought that we could get everything sorted out now, with Applejack on our team." He spread out all of the documents with telekinesis, as well as some copies of D'Agosta's that he'd made for him. "Mildew is a high suspect, but there are still three other options. Either it's someone with bad relations to Lapiz's family's past, an angry vagrant, or a poor pony with access to high valued wares." He slipped out a poster that he'd made for Applejack, illustrating a yellow unicorn with a green mane and a swirled tail, with Mildew printed above the image. "If you can, Applejack, I'd be grateful if you can hang this on the door or at the bar."

"Shore thing!" she snatched it out of the air, its glow fading, stuffing it under the counter.

"Now, I did some chemical tests with a piece of hair I found at the crime scene. It was yellow, and I tested it for any signs of dye. There were none, furthering the chances of Mildew being the perpetrator. It could, of course, just be a coincidence that her coat is yellow." When Pendergast was finished, D'Agosta felt something snap into his head, like a puzzle piece finding its brother. Yellow hair... He shook it out of his mind for now. He'd decipher what his gut was saying later.

"So, here's my plan. This is what I need you for, D'Agosta." With the glow of his horn, a blueprint was sprawled across the scratched counter top. "This is a blueprint, or at least the most recent one, of the tunnels under Manehattan. From what I've seen and heard, it seems that there is a large group, at least one pony for each ten ponies on the surface of Manehattan, but that is common knowledge. From rumors from the poor, it sounds that they're organized, lead by a wicked zebra. If we," he gestured at D'Agosta, "can sneak in under some disguises, we might be able to get some information that will solve this case. If the ponies under us aren't responsible for the crimes above them, they can at least shed some light on it."

"Sounds good to me." D'Agosta took another drink from his mug. Pendergast's was untouched, still protruding foam like a volcano. Before they could discuss it further, the bell on the door rang, announcing that somepony was coming in. They all swiveled their heads and saw that many ponies were coming in. Rush hour, D'Agosta suspected. Pendergast had quickly gathered all of his materials. Before leaving, he went to D'Agosta's ear and whispered something.

"Meet me tomorrow at ten o'clock AM at the subway near this bar. Make sure to get some rest. I'll bring supplies." He quickly slipped out. D'Agosta looked at a clock on one of the walls, surrounded by corroded road signs and colorful jerseys. It read somewhere near three-thirty PM. I guess I should probably get going. Hitting the hay early would definitely benefit him tomorrow. He'd go back to work, putting in a couple hours, and go out early, making sure to get home early. He got up out of his stool, scraping it across the wooden floor beneath.

"See you, AJ." He waved his hoof at her, sliding his mug her way before heading out. He looked back and saw that Pendergast's drink was taken up from somepony in scraggly clothes and a black beard, who was chugging it.

"See ya, sugarcube."

He slid out onto the streets and made his way back to work. He didn't want to, since the commissioner would probably be waiting for him, but he had to get it over with. He merged into the crowds on the streets, going with the flow to One Police Plaza.

***   ***   ***

D'Agosta trotted through the thinning crowds of Manehattan under the dark skies, the sun on the horizon. Buildings loomed over him, and it had started to rain. Everypony around him either had an umbrella or didn't give a buck, but D'Agosta certainly did. He had a stack of papers stuffed into his jacket, trying to keep them dry as the rain pelted him. He kept getting off track, however, because he couldn't get a certain thought out of his head. Pendergast had said that the perp's coat or mane was yellow, and there were three options. One, however, was stuck in his head. A poor pony with access to high valued wares, Pendergast had said earlier. A loud boom rang across the sky, penetrating D'Agosta's thoughts. He looked up and saw bolts of thunder coming down with the water. He quickly went back to his thoughts. Yellow hair. Poor pony with money. He ran an imaginary image slide through his head, just about everypony he'd seen recently. An orange mare with freckles. A white unicorn. Twlight. His colleagues. A bearded pony. Someone with a red mane. A dead colt. A blue pegasus with a rainbow mane. A pink earth pony. A gray mare with-

He stopped, both physically and mentally, thinking two ponies back. Rainbow Dash... She had access to large amounts of bits, and she had yellow in her hair-

Thud!

His head clanked against another pony who bumped into him. He was about to tell whoever did it to watch where they were going until he saw the pony.

"Sorry," she said in a gravelly voice, her horn's glow dying out, dropping a soaked newspaper that splashed into the sidewalk. She raised her eyes, and they widened, the pupils doing the opposite. She had a yellow coat and a green mane. D'Agosta moved his head to look down her body. She had a curved tail, and she wore clothes that hid her cutiemark. Before he could inspect her further, she brushed past him quickly, hurrying ahead of him. D'Agosta followed. The stranger's pace quickened, as did D'Agosta. She started going even faster. D'Agosta was on her tail. She was now galloping, knocking ponies over. The lieutenant followed through the rain, his hooves splashing against puddles.

"Get back here!" he yelled out as she ducked into an alley. D'Agosta hastened his run, making sure to not lose her. He turned the corner and saw her tail disappear behind another curve, brick walls looming around them. The rain drummed against a roof overhead, and a trash barrel was aflame, with two homeless ponies eyeing the cop in pursuit. He quickly clomped across the ponies, pursuing the tail. When he turned through the corner, he saw Mildew against a tall brick wall, rain splattering her. Her brow was furrowed in determination. D'Agosta quickly ran at her, getting ready to jump. At the last minute, a burst of light occurred, and he looked around to find her gone. He quickly looked behind himself and saw a yellow flank running away. The bitch teleports!

He hurried after her. The thunder kept on, and hail started to fall. This time when passing the homeless, she kicked the barrel over, one poor pony narrowly avoiding it by skidding into the rain. It's contents spilled out, still on fire under the tin roof. Despite this, D'Agosta jumped right through the flames, singing his tail. It was swiftly put out as he was in the rain again, now in another narrow alley.

"Fuck off, cop!" he heard. She was too far ahead to make out colors, and the rain helped, so all D'Agosta saw was a black outline. Then he saw a door swing open, and an old stallion was pushed outside. The lieutenant quickly went over through the door, ignoring the pony in the rain. His surroundings changed vastly, with a yellow, peeled wallpaper replacing the brick, and the floor was now a lush carpet instead of wet asphalt. A grandfather clock stood under a large family photo, with tons of other knickknacks lining the shelves. More lavish furnishings covered the room, with a staircase winding up to the second floor. He clomped up the stairs, and saw the yellow pony above, cowering in fear. "Go away, man," she said in the same, raspy voice, "I didn't do shit!" Her horn glowed, and before D'Agosta knew it, a book case crashed into him from the wall, crushing him into the ground. He wheezed, gasping for air. He slowly raised it, but the mass above him was pushed down with telekinesis. He slowly moved his hoof towards his service piece. He felt the familiar strap, wrapped it around his hoof, and quickly slung it to his mouth, holding it with his teeth. He used his tongue to push the trigger, shooting wildly into a window. It smashed open, glass shards raining into the yellow criminal's mane.

Her magic stopped, and D'Agosta took this chance to give out one last burst of energy. He bucked the shelf up, pushing it sideways into the staircase. The only way out now was through the sharp edges of the window, but Mildew wasn't taking chances like that. She was still shaking her mane when D'Agosta charged, head down, smashing her into a wall. A loud crack! sounded, and the floor boards and wall started to splinter.

In retaliation, her horn glowed, and a shelf swung off it's hinges, raining trinkets onto D'Agosta.

Boom!

The house shook in its frame, the thunder raking the house. D'Agosta quickly recovered, getting ready to shoot again. His tongue moved to an empty space. He looked down, realizing that his weapon must've fallen into the gleaming pile of gold and silver. He didn't have enough time to search. Mildew slugged him in the barrel and started levitating the shelf over the staircase. A searing pain spread across his neck and stomach, but he put away the pain, adrenaline replacing it. Once she was done, D'Agosta ran over and bucked her right in the ass, sending her toppling over the railing. He heard a sharp crack!, and he guessed he had broken a bone. He peered over the railing, the wind blowing through his mane from behind, and saw her foreleg twisted at an unnatural angle. She gave a sharp cry before her horn started to illuminate. D'Agosta couldn't believe what he saw.

Mildew must've levitated her bone, because it popped right into her socket, or it mended itself. D'Agosta vaulted the railing, stumbling over it and toppling into the bottom of the staircase, falling onto his behind. He heard the snapping of wood and saw that the knickknack shelf had tipped, raining vases and valuables onto his head. They all cracked against his skull, shattering. Agony spread through his head, and he was forced to fall, sprawled across the ground. He heard a loud creak, and turned his head.

Bad idea.

He saw the grandfather clock slowly come down on him, crashing right into his muzzle. He lost all strength. He tried to turn his head, but couldn't. He felt a sharp blow to his jaw, forcing his head sideways, the grandfather clock sliding off of him and onto his neck. He felt the air slide out of him. Magic overtook him, and he felt himself being dragged across the room, nearing towards unconsciousness. His lips felt wet, and he tasted something warm. Blackness started to close over his eyes. The last thing he saw was Mildew, an end table raised over her head.