Chapters Prologue "Filly Found Blues"
"Irrationality is common in fear, and drives most to do unreasonable things. Those things may create trouble, big or small, for others, and could simply be called an inconvenience. For example you're scared right now. Aren't you detective?"
15 years earlier...
"C'mon Olly," Windsor giggled as she dashed through the woods.
Windsor was fast for a filly, and neither of us could fly. Our parents couldn't afford to send us to flight camp let alone keep the farms they owned, for we were in the midst of a great depression. It didn't stop Windsor and I from playing hide and seek with Banana Cream, our friend.
"Hold on I think I forgot my lung," I pant. I got back up and chased after Windsor, but stopped when I heard a scream.
I caught up and saw Windsor, whose white coat and mane were spattered with mud. I laughed as she sat in the muck, and she gave me a look that could melt souls, and I stopped laughing, and walked over to help her out of the muck.
"Are you ok," I asked.
"Yeah, but I scraped my knee," she said, sheepishly raising her foreleg.
It was a normal skinned knee, but I reached into my saddle bags, and took out a roll of bandages. I dusted off the muck gently, and wrapped the wound before letting it go.
"Can you kiss it," she asked sheepishly.
"It feels better when you kiss it," she said, looking down, but holding out her foreleg.
I nodded, and kissed it gently when-, "Aw, that's cute," the cream yellow unicorn filly squeeled from her perch on an oak tree.
I could only blush and stutter nonsense as she laughed.
"Found you," Windsor shouted.
"Aw, dang it," Cream yelled before Windsor giggled.
I chuckled as we walked over.
"Can you get down," we shouted.
"I don't know," she shouted back before climbing down to the first branch, and saying, "Nevermind."
We giggled on the way back home, and something stunk as we reached the farm house.
"That reeks," Cream complained.
Windsor nodded in agreement, and so did I. We opened the door to the sound of flies, and the smell was worse. On the floor were hoof prints that looked like wine, but I knew it was, "Blood," I said softly.
I was panicking, but I calmly said, "Windsor, here's one bit. Call the sheriff at the pay phone by the farm gate.
She nodded, and right when she left, Cream and I puked. We stepped further into the house, and when we reached the living room, there was blood soaking the wall and carpet, but at the center of it was my mom, eyes wide open, guts blown with buck shot. I started to cry, and Cream screamed.
"She deserved it son," my dad said from behind us.
We both turned to see him on his hind legs with a pump action shotgun pointed at me.
"So do you," he said, but as he pulled the trigger, Cream dove in the way, and was dead before she hit the floor.
"Damn," he said as he racked another shell into the chamber, "I missed."
I kicked the barrel up, and it fired a round, blowing his head into chunks, and deafening me as I screamed. I picked up Cream, and shook her.
"Cream, please wake up," I pleaded as my tears fell.
"Wake up," I sobbed.
"Please. Don't leave Windsor and I. Wake up," I cried
"No," I screamed.
I was there, hugging her body as I cried for Celestia knows how long, until the sheriff came in and said slowly, "Son, she's. Gone."
"No, she can't be. She's just sleeping. She's gotta be," I said, still crying.
They took me by the forelegs, kicking and screaming, before putting me outside, covered in blood. Windsor cried and hugged me as I too cried, as we sat on the back steps.
I was sent to the Port City orphanage, and I was never adopted, and stopped seeing windsor after 9th grade. I was never the same after I lost Cream, but I was devastated when I lost them both. After high school, and being drafted into the military for the great war, I went and joined the police, and made detective at age 21, abut was fired for public intoxication. Since then, I've been a private investigator. I may not be the best, but with the mob being as big as it is, they might as well own the police detectives. They don't own me, nor will they.
"Come in," I said, and in walked a pegasus mare with an overcoat.
She took a seat and I asked, "You got a name miss?"
"You got a light," she asked as she withdrew a pack of smokes from her coat.
"Yeah," I said, holding up a Zippo flip lighter with my initials scratched into the side.
"Good, cause these are yours," she said as she tossed me the pack.
I caught them and asked, "You got a name miss?"
"Windsor," she said with a smile.
"It's good to see you again old friend," she said.
I couldn't believe it, but it was her.
"What are you doing in a place like this," I exclaimed.
"I need your help," she said as she reached into her coat.
"This girl is missing," she said before putting the black and white photo of a wavy maned filly on the desk.
"She's the daughter of the police commissioner, and was taken by someone," she said.
"I'll do it for two hundred bits," I said before reaching into my desk and pulling out a glass, and a bottle of whiskey.
"Done," she said.
"But I'm coming with you," she said.
I nearly dropped the bottle as I yelled, "What?!"
"I want to be your partner Olly. Like old times," she said sheepishly.
I could only shake my head, but I couldn't refuse.
"Fine, but do you have a gun," I asked.
"I got a Colt Defender," she said before drawing the gray gun.
I nodded, and said, "Let's go to the crime scene."
Etta James At Last
Horsigan Noir
Credit to my friend and the help he/she gave.
Glenn Miller’s At last played on the radio as we rode in the taxi.
“The north side eh,” the driver asked in clear interest.
“Yep,” I said, as I adjusted Windsor’s head on my shoulder.
“My name’s Pip,” he said as we stopped at a red light.
“My name’s Oliver,” I said.
Windsor had fallen asleep with her head on my shoulder, and had a dopey smile on her face. My navy blue overcoat was all I had left from my time as a tail gunner for a B17, and my black Stetson fedora I had bought when I became a detective. Both were wet from the heavy night time rain.
“Be careful detective, this could be your last case,” Pip said as we took off from the light.
We entered the precinct and were pulled over by the police. They walked up to my window and I rolled it down.
“Ah, it’s Hellfire,” the first, a pink buck by the name of Cover Fire, sneered.
“Hello Misfire,” I said.
He glared and asked dangerously, “What're you doing in my precinct?”
“My job serge,” I said, noticing his bars.
“That right,” his partner, a blue buck called Chain Link, sneered.
“Yeah, it is,” I said.
“You can’t exactly do that without your driver getting permission from his dispatch now can he? Oh, and from what I can see, your marefriend has an unlicensed weapon,” Cover said with a maniacal grin.
“Oh officer. Don’t you know, you'll get your comeuppance soon you know,” I seethed with a fake smile.
“So will you detective, now step out of the car,” he said.
I glared, but did what he asked, just as Windsor awoke.
“What’s going on here,” she seethed as they put me in hoof cuffs.
“Who are you to ask,” Link sneered.
She pulled a shield from the Port City PD, and said, “Detective Windsor of the PCPD.”
Their jaws dropped, but they glared as they uncuffed me, and threw me to the asphalt.
“You win this round detectives, but you’ll get yours soon,” Cover seethed as they walked back to their car with Link following.
“Your a cop,” I asked.
“Sorry I never told you,” she said as she helped me up, and we got in the car.
“Good to know,” I said as we took off.
“Sorry detectives,” Pip said.
“You're fine Pip,” I said.
We arrived among the big houses of Rosewood, and I payed Pip 20 bits for the ride, and went to the police do not cross tape around the front yard. I saw only old hoof prints from the cops who came here, and tire marks on the street, so there wasn’t much to start with.
“Any witnesses,” I asked Windsor, who held an umbrella with her wing.
“Only one, and she was shot an hour before I went to your office.
“Any ransom letters,” I asked as we left the crime scene in front of the barn like red house.
“I’m afraid not,” she said as she gave me a confused look.
“Where are we going,” she asked.
“We’re following the tire tracks,” I said.
I saw a part of a curb broken three blocks down, and beside the chunk, lay a licence plate.
“Woah,” Windsor said as she noticed the same thing.
I galloped over, and picked it up before stuffing it into my overcoat. I looked up to see a buck wearing a white Stetson fedora with a red band, a white bandana covered his face, and a suit with a double breasted jacket, and a tan overcoat. He drew a pistol, and shot just in front of me.
“Give me the license plate and you won't die tonight,” he said in a gravelly voice.
Windsor drew her gun, and pointed it at his head.
“I think you should drop the gun,” I said with a grin.
He shook his head, and suddenly a car pulled up with the barrels of tommy guns sticking out of the window.
“I don't think you get it. Give it to me, or these guys will kill you,” he chuckled.
Windsor and I spread our wings, and took off.
“Luna dammit,” he yelled into the night as we flew back to my office.
When we arrived, I unlocked the door, and held it open for Windsor before she giggled and went inside.
“Definitely mob involvement,” I said.
“Those guys were dumb,” she said as I opened my door on the second floor, and was bashed in the face with the butt of a gun, and saw stars.
“Not exactly,” I heard a breathy female voice echo as my consciousness faded.
At Last, Etta James
Thank you Mystic Moon and Taku45k for your help, and thank YOU for reading or listening.
Horsigan Noir by: Oliver Hellfire, Mystic Moon, and Taku45k
I awoke to a headache, with my landlord standing over me.
“Are you ok,” she asked.
She was an older palomino unicorn mare with round glasses and green eyes.
“Yeah, I’m fine, but where’s Windsor,” I asked. I then felt slightly dizzy as I stared at my landlord. Damn! I growled softly.
“Oliver, are you alright, “ she asked as I tried to look at her in her eyes. Pain took over as I grunted.
“I...need medicine! No, a doctor! Get a doctor! Please!” I shouted as I faded into unconsciousness again. Before I had fainted, I saw someone behind the landlord and I fell into the darkness before I could warn her.
The landlord gasped in horror and she called for help.
When I came to again, I was laying on my bed and I felt tight bandages around my head. I groaned, trying to get use to the bright light. When my eyes adjusted, I saw Windsor sitting on the old brown chair beside my bed, asleep with bandages around her right foreleg.
‘How did I get here,’ I thought as I looked around my room.
I owned a house, and the office was about 12 blocks away, but I didn't know Windsor knew where I lived. She stirred slightly, and I nearly jumped when I saw Banana Cream in the doorway. She winked, and disappeared, leaving me with a near heart attack. I struggled, but eventually stood up, and hopped out of bed, before going to the bathroom, and looking at my head wound. There was a blood stain on the bandages, indicating that I was struck multiple times, and there was a slight crack in my raven like beak. I looked myself over, and all down to my panther like tail was alright, except for my head. I opened the medicine cabinet beside the mirror, and took out a pack of cigarettes, a tablet of ibuprofen, and a lighter.
I downed the pill, and lit a fag as I went to the kitchen to make pancakes for my guest and I. I stopped and looked at the peeling, stained, yellow wallpaper and groaned in irritation. It was just awful.
I finished making the coffee, pancakes, and cereal when Windsor limped in.
“Morning sunshine,” I said as the dull pain in the back of my head continued.
“Morning Olly, are you ok,” she asked.
“I’m fine,” I said, as I removed the bandages, and ruffled the feathers on my head. The wound was still there, but it had stopped bleeding.
“I made you breakfast,” I said, gesturing to the food on the table.
She licked her lips, and ran to the table, as I went to my room, and put on a clean white button up shirt, and a black tie. When I got back to the table, I saw Windsor eating all three pancakes I made, but I didn't mind, so I poured myself a bowl of cereal and dug in.
“Nice house,” she said between bites.
“Thanks,” I said.
“I heard you made sergeant major in the griffin military,” she said, clearly trying to get me to speak.
“That was a long time ago,” I said, as I took another bite of my cereal.
“Come on Olly, how have you been,” she asked.
“Alright I suppose,” I said.
“Do you have anyone in your life,” she asked sheepishly as she looked down at her lap.
“What do you mean,” I asked.
“Do you. Have a. Have a marefriend,” she asked as she began to fidget.
“No,” I said, confused.
“I don't have a buckfriend,” she said quickly.
“What're you getting at Windy,” I asked, using her old nickname.
“Nothing,” she squeaked sheepishly.
I raised an eyebrow, but dismissed her antics.
“Ready to go? We still gotta catch whoever stole our evidence,” I said as I put on my coat and hat.
I opened the door, and saw the newspaper on my doorstep.
Police Commissioner Red Glare Orders City Wide Hunt For His Missing Daughter Glowing Glare!
‘Shit,’ I thought as Windsor followed me out the door.
“That’s gonna complicate things,” she said.
“Car searches, and ID checkpoints,” I agreed.
“I got a feeling,” I said.
“What,” Windsor asked as we walked to the garage.
I opened the garage, and she gaped, and asked, “Is that-"
“The fastest car in Equestria five years ago. This is a ‘51 Hudson Hornet,” I said, gesturing to the white car with red steel rallye wheels, and lettered tires.
“Racing spec,” she said in awe as we walked closer to the dusty car.
“Yep,” I said as I opened the door, and took the key off of the dashboard and put it in the ignition, and clutched in. We sat down, and the car turned over, and roared to life.
“Is that a standard four speed,” she asked as I shifted into first gear.
“Yep,” I answered before parking on the driveway, and getting out to close the garage.
I got back in, and saw Windsor trembling with excitement. I stepped on the gas, and took off down the street. I turned right at the intersection, and blew through the red light before downshifting into second, and fishtailing into an alley to the left. We passed the police checkpoint, and turned onto the next boulevard before stopping outside of the Dry Throat pub.
“What are we doing here,” Windsor asked as I turned off the car.
“I got a contact, who might know what’s going on,” I said before we got out, and went inside.
There was no one there except for the bartender. He was a jet black pegasus with an electric blue mane, and he stopped wiping the bar, and adjusted his glasses as he looked at us.
“What're you doing here,” he asked.
“I need some information about a foal napping,” I said.
“Shit,” he said.
“Come on Ozzy, it would be a shame if your wife found out about you know what,” I said maliciously.
He sighed before giving in.
“Alright, it's a small gang, they call themselves the Twelve O’clock Hunters, and they were gonna ransom her before selling her to the zebras as a slave,” he said grimly.
“Where are they,” I asked.
“I only know where one of their low level gals lives, and that’s off of Maple and Barnes Drive down south. Apartment 6, door 3. Her name is Eve, and she's a griffin with brown feathers,” he said as he got back to work.
I nodded at Windsor before we went back to the car.
“What's the story between you and him,” she asked as I fired up the car.
“Ex mobster, almost did a bid in the pen, but I got him off the hook, and he became an adulterous prick,” I said as we took the same route around the checkpoint.
We arrived at the apartment, and I saw the griffin in a car. It was a Blue Chevy Bel Air with a hockey masked mare behind the wheel. The front bumper was bent, and missing the front licence plate.
I knew the moment she noticed me that things was going to get rough.
She yelled at the driver, and they took off with me following them. I hit 110 mph and was closing in on the chevy as we followed the street, but I slammed on the brakes as it was blindsided by a pick up truck.
“Dammit,” I yelled as we screeched to a halt behind a truck.
I drew my gun, and ran to the accident. Eve was barely alive, and unconscious, but the driver was crushed by the truck.
“Fuck,” I yelled.
I ran to the truck, and saw the driver was dead.
“Fuck,” I yelled again before I noticed ropes and a big flower sack in the bed.
I grabbed both, and put away my gun, and pulled the griffin out of the truck, and drew my pocket knife before cutting off her talons, and binding her broken wings to her sides, and tied her forelegs behind her back. I tied her beak shut, and tied her hind legs together, and putting her into the back, before tying it shut, and tossing it into the trunk.
‘Now to avoid police checkpoints,’ I thought.
“Luna dammit,” I yelled before getting into the car.
“Did you just throw her in the trunk,” Windsor asked with distaste.
“Fraid so,” I said as we took off.
End credits
Glenn Miller In The Mood
She groaned through her tied beak as I became frustrated.
“I told you, we should have taken her to the hospital, but no, you wanted to interrogate her while she’s recovering from a car accident with two fatalities,” Windsor lectured as we sat in the basement of my house. She whimpered and struggled in her bonds, as she slept.
I had blindfolded her in case she woke up, but at this rate, we were going nowhere fast. I went upstairs grabbed a bucket, filled it with water, and came back down.
“Wakey wakey,” I shouted as I tossed the water onto her.
She awoke, breathing hard, and struggling. She screamed through her tied beak in both pain, from her broken wing and foreleg, and fear. I sat her up, and she tried to kick me, but missed.
I grabbed her throat and choked her as I seethed, “Where is the police commissioner's daughter.”
She choked as I removed the rope around her beak, then gasped for air when I let go.
“Fuck you,” she cried out as the tightrope squeezed her broken leg.
I lunged, but was held back by Windsor, who said, “Let me try,” with pleading eyes.
“Fine,” I said.
It wasn't fine. I kept thinking of Cream, and I worried about Glowing even if I didn't know her. I went upstairs to fill the bucket, and grab the empty bag of flour on my counter.
“Please, just tell me where the girl is, or my friend is gonna do something that isn't him,” Windsor begged.
“Fuck you lady! Let me go! I just wanna go home,” Eve shouted and cried as I arrived downstairs once more.
“How do you think she feels,” I yelled angrily.
I set down the full bucket and yelled, “Time’s up Windsor!”
I put the bag on her head and flipped on the radio as Eve and Windsor screamed in protest.
Robert & Johnny We Belong Together
“No please,” she screamed.
I shoved her head underwater and straddled her back so she could only kick her back legs. Bubbles surfaced, and she bucked hard, but to no avail as she drowned.
I pulled her head back, and she cried and gasped for air from the wet bag, and I screamed, “Where is she!”
“I just wanna go home,” she sobbed.
I shoved her head forward, and she screamed, “No ple-!”
She was drowning again before she could finish, and I dug my talons into her flank, causing her to scream the rest of her air out underwater. There were no more bubbles, and she struggled harder before I grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, and threw her to the floor, coughing and crying.
“P-p-pl-please le-le-let me go,” she cried, as Windsor looked at me with teary eyes.
“Please. Olly. This isn't you. Come back,” Windsor begged.
“Where's the girl,” I screamed.
“I don't know,” Eve screamed, panicked and scared.
I drew my gun from my hip, and pulled back the hammer.
“Please please please don't kill me,” Eve screamed through the bag.
“Then tell me who hired you to take the girl,” I yelled.
“Please! They never gave me a name,” she cried as she curled up into a foetal position.
She lay there and sobbed as she emptied her bladder onto the concrete floor. Windsor cried softly as she went and removed the bag before hugging the sobbing griffin. The griffin buried her face into Windsor’s shoulder and cried, but I froze. Not from what they were doing, nor what I had done, or at least not yet. There stood Cream, who stared at me with teary eyes of disapproval and a hoof on the griffin’s side. I dropped my gun and backed up as hot tears filled my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I choked out over my falling tears, and I picked up the gun, and pointed it at my head.
“Olly, no,” Windsor screamed.
BANG!
The Platters, Smoke Gets In Your Eyes
Thank you readers, and thank you Mystic Moon and Taku45k for helping me write this.
Horsigan Noir by: Mystic Moon, Taku45k, and Oliver Hellfire
“There are no words to express my sorrow and regret for the pain I have caused others by words and actions. To the people I have hurt, I am truly sorry.” -Matt Lauer
I am not happy. I lost my life to countless things, countless times. I lost part of me with Cream. I lost part of me with Windsor. I lost part of me when my crew was killed on the Boeing B17 “The Orchard Mare” and the wrongs I did during my time in the griffin army. I lost myself, and I wasn't more scared than I was then.
Windsor tackled me as the gun went off, and Eve screamed. Windsor lay, crying, on top of me, and she pounded my chest as she yelled, “You stupid jerk,” and cried.
“I'm sorry,” I managed.
“Don't you dare to that to me,” she cried.
“I don't want to lose you too,” she sobbed as she squeezed me tightly.
“I’ve always loved you, and right when I want to be with you, you try to leave me here alone,” she cried.
I hugged her back and said, “Windsor I-”
I didn't finish, for she had thrown her lips over mine, and plunged us into a deep kiss. Her lips were sweet, and as soft as velvet. It felt as if she could drag my deepest thoughts from me, and I felt warm and fuzzy there. It was almost as if I was put in a trance as time seemed to stop. She pulled back, still teary eyed, but with a small smile.
“I love you too Windsor,” I stammered, lost in the endlessly beautiful pools of orange that were her eyes.
Her alabaster coat seemed to shimmer in the light, and her light orange mane seemed to glow before-
“Hello? Did you guys leave me in the basement,” Eve cried out in fear.
‘Oh. Don't worry square one, I hear you calling me back,’ I thought.
“Yes we’re here,” Windsor said as she scrubbed her eyes.
“I heard something about a parking garage at the International Towers,” she whimpered.
I tied a rope from her neck, to the radiator, and we left her there for later, or at least I did.
Windsor kissed me on the cheek, and told me, “Do better.”
I nodded, and got into my car, and drove down to the ocean, where the International Towers stood. I pulled into the parking garage, and parked the car. I turned it off, and got out. I listened closely through the echo of the city, and heard breathing as if it were in a tin can. It was coming from the end of the parking garage, so I went further in, and knocked on car trunks as I went along, until I reached the third car, and heard a knock back. I drew my pocket knife, and stuck it between the trunk lid and the car, before popping the lock, and throwing it open to find a neon blue filly with a messy black mane. It was Glowing Glare, and I cut the ties that held her, and carried her to the car. She was dazed from something, but I didn't know what, but I figured they drugged her.
I had buckled her seat belt, and was about to pull out of the garage when I saw a deuce coupe to my right stop. I turned toward him, and then pulled a 180 slide before going the other way with them in pursuit. I upshifted, as I slid left, and missed a bus, and he was hot on my tail, but I kept on until two more cars joined pursuit. I kept up my straight line pace until I saw a traffic jam, and drifted into an alley to the left. I went left again, into a parking garage, and blasted out the other side, and through a police checkpoint. I knew they’d call it in, but I didn't care. I turned left again, into an alley with the Ford Tudor beside me, and I upshifted, and over took him, narrowly missing a side swipe from the bus, as it went on to block the alley, and get broadsided by the Ford. I went through the alley, and got out by another police checkpoint, where they picked up pursuit. I was screwed, and a patrol car swerved in front of me as I drove inland. I missed it, and turned left with five on my tail, into the Port City flood control system. There was now seven cop cars on my six o’clock, so I gunned it, and hit 110 mph before pulling away, and exiting the flood control system, and leaving them in the dust.
I was seen driving, and stepped on it once more as we neared the port. I dodged a tractor trailer and a bulldozer, before exiting and heading through the airport tunnel, and loosing them for now. I passed the long line of grid lock on the two lane road, but stopped when I saw a wrecker ramp truck, and a huge accident. I reversed about a quarter of a mile, but stopped when I saw flashing lights stop behind me.
Seven police cars, including Cover fire, all out of their cars with their guns trained on me.
“Get out of the car buck,” Fire pleaded.
“Hellfire,” he yelled.
I gunned it, and he galloped after me for a few steps, but stopped. I hit 60, then 70, then I hit the jump, and heard the angels sing as I went airborne. I landed, and bounced before swerving, and landing, gasping for breath. I looked at the kid to see that she had passed out. I drove hard, but was side swiped by an ambulance as I blew through an intersection and I was knocked unconscious by the hit.
I awoke covered in my blood with the filly shaking me.
“Mister, please wake up! You still have to take me home,” she pleaded frantically.
There was a twinge of pain, and I looked down to see a bar of chrome strip from the car door sticking through my back, and front at my abdomen. I choked, and coughed up blood, as I sat there, speared by my own car. We had been sent careening into a street lamp, and the ambulance had spun to a stop backward to my destroyed pride and joy. A paramedic dragged me through the window after finding that the door was stuck, and removed the piece while the other grabbed the girl. I struggled to breathe, and faded from consciousness once more.
I awoke in the hospital, and I felt like I was hit by a car.
“Fuck,” I muttered, and I heard the deep, powerful voice of the police commissioner.
“So, you're finally awake,” he said with a smile that could be seen under his brown mustache.
He was a big earth pony buck with a red coat, and a brown mane, and wore a suit.
“Hello sir,” I said weakly.
“Hello detective,” he said.
“You saved my daughter,” he said.
“That was the job sir,” I said sheepishly as I sat up. I groaned as another wave of pain hits me.
“You did good,” he told me. I couldn't hear him as I leaned against the pillow. Damn it! I thought. I was in so much pain, I didn't know what to do, but I just laid there.
The police commissioner gazed at me for a while. “When you leave the hospital, you’re going on a little break,” when those words came out of his mouth, I panicked.
“No! Sir, please, no break,” I pleaded with him to not give me a break. He stared at me with little shock. He knew how I work and he wants to give me a break? What a joke! I’m take a break when I’m dead, dammit!
“Alright, Oliver, just don't go killing yourself,” he told me as I managed a nod.
Hello Dolly, Louis Armstrong, A Kiss To Build A Dream On
Thank you
Next Time
"What do you mean you lost the car," The director screamed.
"That car was worth 5 thousand bits you moron," he yelled into the phone.
He saw the detective outside, and said, "I'll call you back."
CLICK
Horsigan Noir: The Autotopia Atrocity
Chapter 3 "Autotopia Atrocity"
“I was discharged six days ago Windsor, I’ll be fine,” I said as I left the house.
“Back in twenty ok, breakfast is almost ready,” Windsor shouted back.
Windsor moved in with me, and we began seeing each other intimately. She was a bit overly protective of me, but other than that, she was great. We were still having trouble figuring out what to do with Eve, and I almost died when she tried to get me to, and I quote, “Help a gal out.” That basement will probably smell like her musk for a while, but we figured out how to look after her.
I arrived at the used car dealer down the street, and found myself ignoring most of what the salesman said.
I stood in front of a dock truck that was broken in half. The salespony stood beside me, and noticed me staring at the ‘37 Dodge Power Wagon.
“That there is a thousand bits,” He said.
“What do you mean a thousand bits,” I shouted.
“Look at it! It's broken in half,” I yelled as the buck stopped smiling.
“We’ll cut you a deal on the new Desoto Firedome if you shut up,” he said.
“Nah,” I said simply.
“How about that old Chrysler,” I asked, gesturing to the black ‘55 Chrysler 300.
“500,” he said.
“I’ll take it,” I said.
“Wait,” the manager yelled after me.
“Detective, I’ll give you that car for free, just please help me,” the rust brown buck said frantically.
“What's wrong Pile Up,” I asked.
“Some bastards made off with a 5 thousand bit car,” he said.
“Just tell me where to go,” I said as we walked to the Chrysler.
Glenn Miller, At Last
“Your car can be a look into your soul. When it’s in disarray, so are you.” -...
Credit to Mystic Moon and Taku45k Thank you readers!
“Why the hell would the car be here,” Pile Up asked me. I looked around and I knew what it was. This was greaser territory and we were in it. I muttered curses to myself.
“We need to be careful,” I told Pile Up as I stopped the car. He got out as well and looked around. I heard footsteps as I turned around to see who it was.
“Who the hell are you and why are you here,” a deep voice filled with anger asked us. I turned to see a pegasus, who was flying too close to me for comfort. I leaped away and I looked at Pile Up. He was on his guard, making me smile coldly.
“I’m here for a car that was stolen,” I told the flying pony. The pegasus grinned.
“What makes you think that we have it,” he asked me. When he said “we", four others came out of hiding. ‘Damn, we're surrounded,’ I thought.
“Pile Up! Be careful!” I shouted at him. When one of the pegasus’s flunkies reached for me, my sharp talons cut his hooves. He cried out in pain when I threw him towards another place.
When a female earth pony ran towards me, I simply just flicked her on her forehead. As the two guys leaped at me, I let them as we fought to show our griffin pride. Blood and feathers were being poured and pulled at.
When my throat was caught by another griffin, I snarled and I forced him off by kicking him. I burst free of the group as a song began to play in my head.
Jack Purvis, Mental Strain At Dawn
I threw my hat up, and drew my baton. I sweeped the legs out from under the griffin, and bashed his head. I turned, and batted the charging pegasus out of the sky, and dodged the blind side attempt from the mare, and put her in a choke hold against my chest with the baton as I rose up with her in my grasp.
“Alright we’ll leave you alone, just let her go,” the bloodied ring leader said.
I dropped her quickly, and caught my falling hat before placing it back atop my head.
“I better not get anymore trouble from you foolish kids, or I’ll be forced to arrest you for assault and battery,” I sneered.
Pile Up ran to the car, and I limped slowly to it, feeling my broken wing throb, and my left hind leg sprained. I got in the car, and left with my memory of how Windsor was going to kill me when I got home.
When I got home, Windsor shouted at me, like I knew she would. “You got hurt! You said you would be back in twenty minutes, Oliver! You were gone for a hour!” She shouted at me. I grinned cheekily at her.
“Oops, my bad. I lost track of time.” I told her. Windsor was seething, but she let it go after punching me in my stomach, which had no injures. I groaned at her punch. ‘She still knows how to spring out a punch’ I thought holding my stomach as I tried not to curse at Windsor.
She had every right to be worried. I was acting like a little big shot, going after every criminal without my partner. I felt awful. My injuries screamed at me and I didn't want to go to the hospital again. The doctor would scream at me too if he saw me.
“I'm just glad you're ok,” she said before hugging me tightly.
Eve then came upstairs, wearing one of my floral Cowaiian shirts.
“Hey guys,” she said.
“Morning Eve,” Windsor said.
She sat at the table, and squirmed a bit, and I asked, “You still-"
“Yes,” she answered quickly.
She was living with us now, because she would die if we hoofed her over to the cops, who thought she was dead, but if they found out otherwise, then we’d all go to jail. Eve had a brain injury from the car accident, and could have seizures in times of high stress, or die from something else that I forgot. We had hired a doctor friend of mine to help her, and she decided to stay peacefully with us thanks to Windsor talking her into it. It was almost like having a younger sibling, or a teenage daughter. She was 18, and Windsor became attached to the young troublemaker.
I was still thrown off by this, because of the time I spent with an infantry regiment when my bomber was shot down, and crashed on the front lines. We would interrogate the enemy, then dispose of them, and I hadn't been able to do so.
“Pancakes are on the table,” Windsor said before kissing me on the cheek.
I couldn't help but look at her toned flanks as she walked away.
I blushed as Eve followed my gaze and glared at me. “Don't stare at her like that. It’s disrespectful. Some griffin did that to me once and I punched him. I was at school at the time, so I did get into trouble, but I was protecting myself,” When she told me this, I got so mad at the unknown male griffin. I caught myself when I realized that I was acting like an overprotective father.
“That's good. Perverts are bad and don't trust strangers,” I told softly. Eve looked at me, shocked.
“She was right, you do care like that,” She muttered under her breath, but I still heard her. I didn't want to ask so I just left it alone.
“Why don't you still attend school,” I asked her. Eve shifted uncomfortably.
“I, um, dropped out,” she told me. ‘Did she think that I was going to get mad at her,’ I thought. She’s not even my daughter and I’m acting like a parent.
“What about your parents,” I asked her. Eve gazed at the ground sadly.
“What about them,” she asked me, not really answering my question. I knew something bad must've happened because Eve teared up a bit. I left the matter alone and I tried to comfort her the best way I knew how. Windsor came back into the kitchen with a small smile on her face.
“You two are finally bonding, that's good. Eve, dear, why don't you back upstairs? The doctor’s going to be here any minute now,” Windsor told Eve softly. I switched my gaze between the two females.
“Yes, Mom,” Eve tells Windsor, who was shocked at what Eve called her. Eve didn't register what she called Windsor and when she realized, she screamed with strong fright. “Please don't hurt me,” she shouted with fear. When she did that, I regret ever hurting her.
“I won't. I’m perfectly fine with you calling me your mother,” Windsor tells Eve, hugging her gently.
RING RING
I groaned as the doorbell rang. I wondered who it was. I told Eve to go back to her room. When I opened the door, all I smelled was gunpowder. “Luna, what the hell,” I demanded from the visitor. The visitor was Pile Up. “Pile Up, are you out of your mind,” I shouted at the stallion.
“Sorry there, Oliver, I didn't know that this was your house,” he told me. I grunted a bit.
“Put that away,” I growled at him at little. He unloaded his gun and he set it down. When I looked at him closely, he had blood on his head. “What the hell happened,” I asked him. He looked at me when he realized that I noticed the blood on him.
“This is nothing,” he answered. I pressed my lips in a cold smile.
“Fine, don't answer me. I don't care,” I told him. “You can leave, if you don't need anything,” I continued. He looked around in a quick gaze.
“Can you help me,” he finally gathered his guts to ask me for help. I smirked.
“What is it, Pile Up,” I asked him. He pushed me back into my house and I glared at him. “What the hell, dude,” I shouted at him. I was pissed now. He pushed me into my own house.
“Be understand- I didn't mean to do this,” Pile Up told me. I looked at him as I softened my glare when I saw Eve staring at me.
“What did you do,” I asked him. I was scared of the answer as he shifted.
“I killed the mare from earlier,” he confessed to me. I scratched him with my talons. I breathed in anger as I released my anger.
“What the hell were you thinking? Damn it! Luna dammit,” I shouted as I punched Pile Up repeatedly. I didn't stop my assault until a whimper from Eve was heard by me. I froze. My balled up fist was close to Pile Up. He spit his blood at me and Eve froze. I pulled him up and I pushed my face into his. “Don't drag me down with you,” I warned Pile Up as I pushed him out of the house.
“F-Father,” Eve called me as I stared at her in guilt. She had to see that. That side was worse than the side that tortured her.
“Sorry, Eve. You shouldn't call a monster your father,” I told her, walking out the door, with my hoof cuffs.
I had to take him in, but when I got outside, a deuce coupe pulled up with the greasers hanging out of it with “Grease Guns" I dove, but caught a 9mm round in my wing, while my house caught a couple bullets, and Pile Up was pumped full of led.
The car took off, and I realized that the bullets struck near the kitchen.
I writhed as Windsor and Eve screamed my name simultaneously, but I was relieved when they appeared in my vision to pick me from the bushes. My wing and hind leg hurt like hell as they helped me to the car.
“We need to get you to a hospital,” Windsor said, as Eve hid her face with a hockey mask.
“Dammit,” I groaned.
