Introduction
I had just jumped behind a dumpster, narrowly escaping the spray of bullets that the MPD (Manehattan Police Department) was firing at me. I could hear the last few bullets hit the dumpster, barely a second after I had ducked for cover. I then pulled a grenade from my saddlebag, pulled out the pin, and rolled the grenade under the dumpster. A police officer yelled something, probably to alert the other officers that there's about to be an explosion, and, moments later, a loud sound cut sharply through the air.
I took a moment to breath, though not very long; it will only take a few minutes before the MPD calls for backup. This will, hopefully, allow me enough time to figure a way out of this situation, but I will have to act quickly.
“We’ve got you surrounded. Come out with your hooves up!”
I pulled out another grenade, this one a flashbang, and threw it over the dumpster.
“Flashbang! Look away!”
Seconds later, a loud sound filled the night, accompanied by a blindingly bright flash that even left spots in my eyes from the other side of the dumpster, almost as if a miniature star combusted in the middle of the night. That should buy me some more time, I thought.
I have been on the run for quite a while now. Nine days and eight nights. I have been running for nine days.
I have been on the case for nine days.
You may be asking yourself, “What case?” The kidnapping and supposed murder of Pinkie Pie.
About ten or eleven days ago Pinkie Pie, one of the bearers of the Elements of Harmony and member of the Council of Friendship, went missing. All that was left behind was some of Pinkie Pie’s hair and blood.
Instantly, anypony who had seen me told the police, hoping to apprehend the rogue citizen who had decided to kidnap, and possibly murder, Pinkie Pie.
Why would they report me? Well, allow me to introduce myself; I am Pinkie Pie. Well, technically I am. I'm one of her clones.
The clone that got away.
As far as I know I'm the only escapee from when Twilight Sparkle banished Pinkie Pie’s clones to the Mirror Pool. To avoid confusion, I am Pinkie Beta, the original clone (Pinkie Pie is technically Pinkie Prime). But I usually go just by Beta.
Because of all the reports about somepony who looked suspiciously identical to Pinkie Pie, the police made me Suspect Number One for the kidnapping case (apparently, the only feasible explanation as to how the only DNA remaining is Pinkie Pie’s).
You may be asking yourself why I'm not like the original Pinkie, and that is because of how the Mirror Pool works.
After a clone is, for lack of a better word, “dispensed” from the Pool they are an extremely “watered-down” version of the main pony’s personality (which is to say they are just the most basic attributes of one’s character). This is the first stage.
In the first stage, a clone is practically non-sentient (the clone’s primary adjective is to reflect their Primary’s basic function, which, in the case of Pinkie Pie, is to have fun). Over time, the clone’s experiences will shape it into a new pony with a new personality, but they will keep some of the original’s personality (I quite enjoy a good party, but then again, who doesn't?). For instance, if you were to get a clone of Rainbow Dash, her clone would enjoy flying fast just as much as Rainbow Dash herself would.
Anyways, the clone’s character will grow similarly to how a baby’s personality and character will develop as they get older and experience more things.
Clones, unlike ponies, will develop faster in the first stage, and then their development will slow to normal pony development once their development reaches the age of the original pony. This is the second stage, and it usually takes about five months.
If the clone has a clone, the clone’s clone’s development rate will be squared (because a clone's clone has an exponential value of two). If the clone’s clone has a clone, the third clone’s development rate will have an exponential value of two from what it was cloned from, which would be an exponential value of three from the original clone (about one hundred and twenty-five-ish months, or five cubed) and it will continue to grow exponentially.
However, if a clone has a different special talent than that of whomever the clone was cloned from, their Cutie Mark itself (the symbol), provided that they had one, will not change.
It sounds very artificial, and, frankly, it is. It is very hard to get used to the fact that you were artificial once you become sentient, but you get used to it.
After Pinkie Pie Prime’s clones had created an army of Pinkie Pies, they were unleashed unto Ponyville.
After almost a day, one of Pinkie Pie’s friends, Twilight Sparkle, now Princess Twilight Sparkle, had found a spell to send the clones back to the Mirror Pool, like I said before. Her friends were to round up all of the Pinkie Pies and put them in the Town Hall. I guess they missed me.
Eventually, I ended up here, in Manehattan.
I made a few friends, even got myself a marefriend somehow (luckily, she loves me for my personality, not who I was cloned from. I think). They know that I am, physically, a clone, but I preferred to stay in the background, so not to attract unwanted attention. That way I have a better chance of not being sent back to the Pool.
Some ponies have noticed me (most of the ponies who did notice worked at shops and restaurants), but no one seemed very bothered by it, and, up until now, everypony kept mum about it.
But then Rarity, one of Pinkie Pie’s best friends, opened a store here in Manehattan (I believe it's called something along the lines of Rarity for You), and when it opened, this stallion, Buried Lede, a news columnist, interviewed Rarity and her friends about the grand opening at my favourite café.
When I took a booth I had no idea she was there until I heard her say something about clones. Instinctively, I turned around. Bad move.
Rarity for You might have made the front page that week, but the next week it was I who was on the front page (“CLONE SPOTTED! ARE THERE MORE?”).
One or two days after that paper was released, nine days ago, Pinkie Pie was kidnapped, and now she is presumed dead. I was one of the only suspects. Most of my friends have been taken in for questioning, or for being suspected to have worked with me, leaving me with almost nothing. Only myself and a pistol.
Nine days ago I took the case; the case to prove my innocence; the case to find Pinkie Pie, if she is still alive.
It's gonna be, and has been, risky, but, after all, I'm a mare with nothing to lose.
Chapter One
“The stupidity of gossips is that they become frightened when they see your face, and a little word from your mouth makes them vibrate like an electrocuted criminal.”
~~~
It was late Tuesday night and I was heading to the lobby to grab our mail.
I was wearing a trench coat and a fedora to hide my identity. I had read the news article earlier that morning, and so I decided to start laying low, yet I still decided to get the mail. This would prove to be a major mistake.
As I walked down the stairs two MPD officers walked up them. As they passed me I stopped and watched. They walked up to my floor and headed down the hall.
I decided that my mail wasn't worth it right now and I followed suit. I was a good fifteen-to-twenty feet back, ducking behind potted plants and wall extrusions every time they looked behind themselves, until they came to my door.
The officer on the right knocked. “MPD, open up!” I heard some rushed trotting inside the apartment, followed by the clicking of a couple locks. The door opened.
Melody stepped out. “Is there a problem, officers?”
The officer on the right spoke again. “I’m Officer Hoover, and this is Officer Hower. We're here because we believe that a suspect of an unspeakable crime is abiding here.”
“I don't know whatever you mean.”
Hoover held up a newspaper. “We suspect a clone of Pinkie Pie has kidnapped her, and we’re here to investigate.” He followed that up by pulling a warrant out of Hower’s saddlebag.
Melody stepped aside and let the two officers in. She was about to close the door when she noticed me.
“Hello,” I said.
She was about to respond when a new voice, probably Hower, spoke up. “Having trouble closing that door, Miss Melody?” He started to walk towards the door when Melody slammed it shut.
Muffled speaking was then heard through the wall. I decided not to hang around in the hallway too long, otherwise I could get caught, so I went downstairs, grabbed the mail, put it in my trench coat pocket, and then went outside to the fire escape.
I stacked up a couple boxes so I could pull down the ladder and I climbed up. Once I reached outside our window I crouched down and peered over the windowsill. The window was open. Bingo.
“Now listen here, Melody,” Hoover began. “We know you're dating a dangerous criminal, and we need to find her and lock her up behind bars to protect good ponies like you from getting hurt, so we'd highly appreciate it if you told us the whereabouts of this rogue clone.”
“I don't know anything about this,” Melody said. “All I know is that Delta isn't here right now, and I highly doubt it could have been her who committed that horrible crime.” Tears welled up in her eyes.
As the interrogation continued, Melody would occasionally glance over at my direction.
Hoover turned around and I ducked quickly. “Search this area,” he said. “She must be here somewhere.”
I started to creep down the fire escape when a metal rung broke. As part of the rung fell and crashed to the ground, the loudest sound ever echoed throughout the alley, followed by a command from Hoover.
“She's on the fire escape, after her!”
I quickly pulled my leg up out of the hole and closed the shutters.
I started to descend the first of four ladders as the shutters burst open and two stallions scrambled out of the window.
Once I was on the third floor’s fire escape, Hoover illuminated his horn. “There she is”
The two officers pulled out their revolvers and started firing through the bars that made up the floors of the fire escape.
After dodging a couple bullets I jumped into the window, smashing through the cheap glass. Luckily, the inhabitants weren’t present.
I heard them quickly descending the fire escape as I ran to the front door, unlocking it. The door flew open and I bolted down the hallway and up the stairs.
As I made my way up I heard Hower say he’ll go downstairs and call for backup if Hoover went upstairs.
At this point I was jumping up steps to make my ascent faster. I wasn't ready to be stuck in a cell for life for a crime I didn't even commit, and I definitely wasn't going to get the death penalty.
“There you are!” Hoover yelled, followed by four gunshots, all of them missing.
As I reached the top of the next staircase, I saw somepony carrying a big suitcase.
I quickly grabbed the guy’s suitcase and threw it down the stairs. 'That should buy me some time.’
I then made it to the roof of the building, locking the door behind me by propping a board to the handle. I ran over to the edge of the roof and looked down. 'That’s a seven story drop, I won't be able to survive that,’ I thought to myself.
I looked about the streets below as Hoover began to bang on the door. Cops were everywhere. I continued to watch as cops entered and exited the building.
Then I heard gunshots.
I turned around to see that Officer Hoover standing in the doorframe next to a broken board. He aimed his gun at me.
“Now listen here, clone. I won't shoot you if you come with me peacefully.” He pulled out a pair of hoofcuffs. “However, if you make a run for it, I will shoot you.” He slowly walked closer.
“Alright, you win,” I said. As I walked towards him I held out a hoof, which was then wrapped by the cold metal of the cuffs. I looked up at him.
“Hand me your other hoof, Delta.” He said my name with a caustic manner.
Then I did what I was told. I gave him my hoof.
As soon as my hoof had connected with his jaw his magic stopped, dropping the other half of the cuff and his revolver.
I quickly jumped forwards and grabbed the gun and dropped it smoothly into my coat’s internal pocket.
And with that, I ran. I ran all the way to the other edge of the building. I turned around and saw Hoover getting back to his feet, and without any hesitation, I jumped. I jumped and I prayed.
I landed hard against the concrete roof of the building over, and I quickly got to my hooves and ran to the edge of the new building, where there was a plank making a make-shift bridge.
A few of the buildings over here had these planks. Originally set up by homeless ponies, they allowed passage across the roofs. I never thanked the Manehatten homeless community so hard in my entire life, if ever, and I balanced my way across the bridge.
I looked back, two buildings over, and saw the roof swarming with officers. I heard clicks and booms, faint but ever-present. A bullet dug its way into the roof. Not cool.
I decided not to linger anymore and crossed from building to building until I reached the end of the city block. I look down at the streets below, and I pray again. I jump again.
