The Secret to Sucess

by Doood

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Mystery, Octavia, Comedy, Adventure, DJ P0N-3, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 3466

Just the things you forget from time to time. Some forget dates, others forget items. How about entire days, weeks; maybe your life? What then?

It seems like it might be an ordinary day. Only if you count ordinary as waking up in an unfamiliar place.

And it's not just that, Vinyl can't remember her name, what happened to her life, and where in Equestria she is.

The only thing she has is a name to keep her going.

-o-

A sideline story that details the sort of humble beginnings of the mysterious D.S.P.I.

You can find out how this group is doing here and while at it, give the author (A.K.A DungeonMiner) their respective thanks for making an amazing story.

Published 2017-10-10 01:20:06 UTC
Last updated 2017-10-10 01:20:06 UTC

A Forgotten Melody

Chapter 1

Finding yourself awake in an unfamiliar place is pretty bad. Drunk, and stupid is even worse for you and your wallet. But what about if you wake up and you can't even remember why or how you got somewhere in the first place?

A swash of the mouth and it was a confirmed that there was no liquor aftertaste. But good heavens, the headache…

Finding the resolve to open her eyes was met with the harshness of the outside world. That motion awoke several other items of the senses. The smell of piss and shame, the sounds of a busy afternoon market, and the feeling of a lumpy ground.

The taste was of iron. Not a good taste to come to fruition with.

Steeling the nerves and with a flick of courage, the mares eyes stayed open, glimpsing about in a haze of colors and blurs.

What day is it…

Or rather, what time? The mare was fairly certain that she had to do something important, she just couldn't remember what…

Why am I in a dumpster??

So that's what the mixture of piss and shame was. Embarrassingly enough, it was her own piss. The shame was of another aroma she couldn't identify.

But it was familiar. Strangely familiar.

Deliberately wetting herself was the least of the concerns at the moment, being as how she was certain that she was very far from home.

Wherever home was.

And since she had a cramp leading all the way up her spine from laying in a trash heap, the mare yawned and wiped herself of the excess.

She wasn't all the way in the dumpster. Just on the top, where a mattress was thankfully keeping herself from the massive filth. That's the good news.

The bad news was that she was in an alleyway, God knows where.

Hopping down caused several items to follow in pursuit. Like for example, the ground. Rule numero one for gravity, it always catches up to you.

And it hurt like hell.

Groaning at how bad her luck was, she slowly sat up and sighed. A bottle of gin had fallen too, landing beside her with a large clank. From where she was, the bottle had barely been touched.

With a grumble, it was time to see where she was at least. Beyond the sights of the two buildings that created the messhole she was in, was quite literally, a busy market.

Or at least that's what she thought it was since every now and then, there'd be someone pulling a cart along stacked with fruits or veggies.

After staring for what seemed to be centuries, a wave of headaches came along, and the mare groaned yet again.

Jeez, something happened last night…

She was having more trouble remembering the events that transpired yesterday, than believing that she was covered in piss and trash.

Putting a forehoof on her head, she let the other hit the ground with a harsh thwack. Headaches were the worst…

A gust of wind cooled her down, almost soothing her to the point of where she could fall asleep again. However, something jangled behind her, catching her ear almost immediately. Turning, the mare saw a pair of keys blowing gently on a pipe.

Keys in an alley. Huh. Who left those lying about?

Cocking her head, she stood and went to collect them. Better to be safe than sorry. Nearing said pipe, it became apparent that another scent, a heavy dose of salt and sweat arose when she got closer.

Another thing she noticed was the pipe led all the way up to the top of the building. Nothing to special, if you account for the pale redness that coated the piece of metal like tape.

It was dried, no doubt blood, but whose?

She took the noisy charm of the stricken metal, and peered at the tag that correlated with the set.

It listed a hotel, address, and a room number.

Taking a look at the pipe again, she raised a brow. Why would there be something like that on a pipe? Was it used as a weapon? Did she hit herself somehow with it?

The more questions that popped up, the more severe her headache became. And the dizziness from her vision was not helping one bit.

Maybe I should check out the hotel.

Or at least return the keys. Then she'd try to figure out where she was.

Before stepping out of the dark alley, the mare did her best to spruce herself up from the unknown things that became of her as she lay on the trashcan.

Concerning her the most was a bit of crimson on her flank, but ignoring it as she scrubbed it of with a bit of water that dripped from an outside air conditioner, she continued shortly thereafter.

Stepping out onto the streets was unnerving. A thousand smells pugnated her nose, throwing her off balance as the mare stumbled through crowds of brightly colored ponies.

Her vision worsened as she made contact with the sun, which made her question if she had indeed gotten drunk last night.

All the signs pointed to a bad hangover. Waking up in a dank alley, a little bit of blood. No biggie. Of course, deciding to release the floodgates whilst sleeping was a bad idea, at least she didn't throw up.

She was feeling it though. If she was patient, it might happen.

The worst thing though, and it had not occurred to her yet, was that at the moment was she couldn't even remember her name if she wanted to.

Which is why it is important that she visits this hotel. For all she knew, it could be her room.

Looking at the keys, the address was Franklin Drive - and she was looking for the Marriott Hotel, room 41.

Right now, she was on Billiards Street. And… unfortunately, since she couldn't remember zip, looking for Franklin would require asking directions.

Looking for a suitable pony to talk to, she spotted a lone stallion waiting for his moment to cross the road. Careful not to bump into anyone, the mare hurried along to call out,

“Hey pal!”

The teen turned his head sharply, a surprised look on his face, “Me?”

The mare nodded, “Yeah, you.” As she drew nearer, the guy crinkled his snout lightly, but smiled.

“I was wondering if you could give me directions to this place.” She made sure to point it out on the keyring.

After looking it over, the stallion laughed, “Oh you're trying to get back to your hotel?” His brown eyes portrayed a smidge of humor.

Impatient and feeling rather dirty, the mare nodded, “Yes, and I'm in a hurry. You know where it is?”

He shrugged and gestured behind him, “Just go down one block and hard a left. You can't miss it.”

The mare nodded her thanks and hurried along.

Down one block and a left. Easy…

Since it was apparently so near, the mare slowed her pace. A small pebble of dread grew in her stomach. She wanted to find out what was going on at that was in the hotel, maybe find a clue as to why she couldn't remember anything, but there was always a chance that she might not like what she found…

She halted in her steps suddenly when she spotted a sign high above the streets. It showed a musical note. Similar to the one on her flank.

Looking at herself, she chuckled, and looked back.

Must be famous or something.

And then, quick bursts of pictures, like as if they were echoes of a past she would rather not know; cascaded around her mind like a pinball machine on crack. She couldn't make heads or tails of what the images were to be. But she saw herself in some of them. Some happy, others sad.

Some, were with a mare. The name, Octavia repeated itself in her head over and over as she drew closer to where she was supposed to take the left.

Then, as if someone snapped their fingers, the images stopped playing. Lesson was over, class dismissed. She quickened her pace.

She took the left with a heavy heart, occasionally glancing behind her. She saw the hotel, seeing as how, yes, she couldn't miss it at all. In big yellow letters way up on the building, it said Marriott, in some fancy font.

Racing up the steps, the mare clambered through the spinning doors and made her way through the lobby.

Entering, she felt sick to her stomach. The place was brightly lit, colorful, and fancy, as it was not meant for anyone who couldn't afford it. Looking at the keys begged the question as to why someone would leave them just lying about.

Whoever they were, they were idiots.

She finally approached the front desk and rang the gold bell that lie there. Almost immediately, she was greeted by another mare dressed formally for the guests of the Marriott.

She wore her hair in a ponytail, and sported said hair with a glossy brown coat. Her jubilant blue eyes sparkled with recognition as the mare cleared her throat,

“I'd like to return these?” The mare held the keys she had found up for the desk clerk to take.

“Oh are you... leaving already?”

...Leaving already?

Confused, the mare asked the clerk, “What do you mean?”

The desk clerk pulled out a paper as she gently took the keys with her magic, “Mmm… yes, Room 41 - a queen sized mattress - fit for two!”

The mare nodded, “Could you give me the names for that room please?”

“Vinyl Scratch, and a Miss Octavia Melody.”

Octavia…

There's that name again. Who was this mare?

“That's my room?”

The clerk nodded, “Yes, Miss Scratch, it is indeed.”

There was something about how that sounded, that made Vinyl twinge.

Miss Scratch. Ew…

With a false smile, she let the name roll of her tongue haphazardly, “Vinyl is fine… thanks. I'll uh… I need to go back up there.”

The clerk smiled, “The elevator to your room is right over there, Vinyl. Take it up to the fourth floor.”

The clerk returned the keys to Vinyl, who in turn looked for the elevator nearby. Looking around, she noticed that the place was actually rather quiet.

Not that it was bad. It's just normally, some hotels have small filaments of ponies mingling with others. The only few that were actually alive, were all depressed over by the bar.

Why do I remember that but not anything else??

Quickly before anything else happened, Vinyl made her way over to the gold transport. Tapping the button allowed her to get in the box instantly.

Once inside, she hit the correct floor, and breathed. The doors closed shut with an obnoxious clang, making her ears twinge in pain.

Soft music played as she waited, the floors slowly approached and left just as fast. Her reflection portrayed exhaustion. White coat stained grey in areas, blue patterned mane frayed and dull, and her eyes weren't the only red on her.

She didn't want to know why it was there still. So while waiting, she tried wiping it away.

Unfortunately, so it and elbow grease doesn't work.

Thankfully Vinyl was on the fourth floor within a few minutes.

Once the doors reopened however, she noticed that there was something off. Yellow tape surrounded the entrance to the hallway. It's as if she wasn't allowed access.

Fuck that noise…

She thought as she ducked under the tape. Just across from her was the 35th room, so Vinyl followed the numbers down, noting in her head that several items were in disarray.

Why didn't that mare tell me about this downstairs?

An overturned plant lay in her path, along with several cards labeled different numbers. Peering on the other side, she noticed a card labeled 5, had a small amount of red surrounding it.

Normally that meant that it was a crime scene. However, how could a plant commit a murder?

Oxygen Asphyxiation maybe.

She glanced down the lit hallway and frowned. Yeah, something was definitely wrong.

More tape enclosed around one of the rooms, barricading the door so that she couldn't enter it if she wanted to. That was room number 40.

Room number 41 was absolutely obliterated. Or at least the door was. The knob to it was all that remained. She peeled some of the tape away, and stepped in.

Scorch marks littered the place like bullet casings. Half of that queen sized bed was missing, and the wall that separates the rooms had a sizeable hole leading into 40. Which explained why it was tapered off.

Other than items strewn about and having half a queen bed missing, the room showed some major signs of a struggle.

Vinyl walked around the bed to the window curtains. She accidentally stumbled over some more of those cards along the way. It caught her eye because a mass amount of glass and what is confirmed to be blood was at the foot of the bed.

Vinyl squinted and noticed that around the red carpet, somebody had marked the ground with what looked like chalk. It outlined a pony, at least what was left of them.

It made her stomach churn for some reason. Not knowing who it was, or why this was happening is seriously messed up. It became a headache factor too as when she rounded the island, there were two more outlines.

More blood, more cards.

“Fuck…” She said aloud, covering her mouth with a hoof. Something was rotten with this. She could feel it as soon as she entered the building. Now that she was seeing it,

Vinyl had to know the how's of it.

She opened the curtains slightly, careful to not disturb anyone that may be watching. And believe it, with what has happened in here, there was definitely somebody keeping an eye on the place…

The glass had a large crack in it, about head level. More blood filled the cracks of the frame, showing that someone's face, or body rather, had almost gone through it.

Vinyl rubbed her forehead in curiosity, and sighed in relief. If she had been here when everything hit the fan, the good news that it wasn't her head that made that hole.

But the cops were really thorough. There were prints all over the place, the room smelled of sulfur and chemicals, and she dared not to go into room 40.

Judging by the trail that led into there, she'd only find more outlines and cards for this crime scene.

Crime scene…

“Oh no…” Vinyl glanced about, if it is one thing you do not do, it's return to the scene of the crime.

Curiosity kills the cat though. Vinyl covered an area of the room quickly, taking a moment to peer into the hallway.

Seeing that nobody was visibly present, she turned and did a sweep over the place.

Okay, find out what happened.

A bloody brawl happened, that's what. Outlines usually mean somebody is dead. And she had already counted four. Not including room 40.

Vinyl decided to comb through the bed dresser, ransacking what loose items were inside.

A picture frame, some lip gloss, a…

Dildo. Of all things.

For the grins and giggles, she tossed it behind her and watched as it flopped about.

Totally worth it.

Behind several bow ties though, was some rosin, and two tickets to a concert in Baltimare.

Vinyl audibly hummed. She was in Baltimare. The tickets detailed a Orchestral duet, it had taken place at 9pm. The date felt recent.

Almost like it had happened yesterday.

One of the tickets was for Vinyl, and the other was for Octavia Melody.

Vinyl looked at the outlines on the floor and wondered if...

No. For some reason, her mind forcibly pushed that thought far away.

Octavia was okay.

“So we had gone to the concert… then what?”

Vinyl debated whether or not she were to go into the other room. It would probably be best if she waited on that.

Since the room had seen a war of some odd proportions, Vinyl slowly tottered over to the bathroom. She had taken it upon herself to follow the dried trail that led into the sucker.

Inside, she found yet another chalk outline. What was weird though, was that a chunk of the bathtub was missing. Not a large amount, but bits and pieces of it.

Some of it were laying on the ground. Most of it was probably used as a weapon if Vinyl was right. That area of the tub was still bright red.

However, she ignored that for now.

Vinyl opened the mirror in the bathroom, looking for any kind of hint or suggestion as to what may or may not have happened.

All she found were some snazzy shades. Purple lens with dark black rims. Putting them on made her headache decrease, so she made it apparent not to take them off.

“C'mon… think. If I were me, and I just got bamboozled, where would I hide something?”

Under the bed.

Or at least under something.

So with a shudder, she chose an area that wasn’t covered in pony blood, and searched the underbelly of the charred mattress.

After about a minute of searching, she found a little something. With a grunt of effort, she pulled it out until she held in her hooves what most definitely was a portable microphone. Small, easy to conceal. And it was active.

She looked at it, considering her options, and slowly set it down.

Somebody was keeping an eye on the place most definitely. The green light in the microphone said it all.

Vinyl Scratch, you are now, fucked.

Something clattered in the hallway, close. It was almost like someone had tripped over something and tried to catch it before it hit the ground.

Vinyl wanted to close the door and think about how she could totally escape from the place, but OH WAIT - THERE WAS NO DOOR.

So she ran into room 40. Brushing past the rubble, Vinyl crouched behind an armoire and waited for somebody to walk through the doors.

Once they did, she would burst through the other. Just had to apply enough force to this one since it was taped off.

But something caught all of her senses. That same aroma that was in the alleyway. She sniffed, and looked around briskly.

As her eyes scanned over the back of the room, she had to mentally freeze and look back at it again.

That was why there was a hole in the wall. And it was why there was tape covering the door. Although the place was already suspicious enough, if somebody just so happened to open the door this room, they would see something most foul.

And most foul was why it had caught her nose.

A forearm, leg and head were used as a pedestal for a candle, which illuminated a message scrawled out on the wall,

“We have her Vinyl.” -Dez

Dez rang one helluva bell. And it set off a chain of emotions ten fathoms so deep, that it kept her occupied while several ponies overtook the room. All were suited differently and had taken aim on Vinyl.

Their suits were labeled with the four letters of D.S.P.I

Which only meant trouble for one particular pony.

“Miss Scratch.” Came a familiar voice, who caused Vinyl to come back to reality. She looked at who had spoken and sighed in defeat.

It was the mare at the counter downstairs.

“When I was told that somebody had seen you barreling out of an alleyway, I about had a heart attack.”

She wasn't dressed like a steward though. She made sure she was dressed for a battle,

“My name is Candy Wrapper, and I'm going to have to ask that you come with us under several accounts of murder, that took place in these rooms.”

Vinyl leaned against the wall, millions of questions racing through her mind, “Do you have any proof that it was me?”

Candy shook her brown mane, “No. But you are somepony who will be able to answer that for us.”

Vinyl shrugged, “I can't remember anything.”

Candy smiled and turned, calling off the various soldiers who had aimed weapons that looked very archaic at Scratch,

“You won't have to. That's where we come in.”

O.o.O.o.O

Author's Note

Keep this in mind, that I didn't come up with the D.S.P.I.

I simply offered an idea, to which wasn't refused.

This is the story I wanted to base a sideline off of.

Make sure ya check it out!