Trigger Happy Equines

“Greyscale, I’d like to speak with you.”

I raised my head with a start to see a familiar pair of red eyes boring into my own belonging to an ever-serious, maroon-coated unicorn. “Oh, um, okay.”

“In private.” Mesmer motioned towards the kitchen.

“Uh, really? Just me?”

Mesmer nodded.

“If you touch him,” Copper growled, eyeing Mesmer suspiciously. “I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“I’m sure you would,” Mesmer replied casually, not even meeting the mare’s gaze. “Now come, Greyscale. This is important.”

Not having any reason to excuse myself I obliged, Copper grabbing hold of my hoof for a moment and nodding with a grave expression. I nodded back and followed Mesmer into the kitchen, noticing along the way that Yoko’s eyes were also following me.

Since Monobunny’s chilling speech and exit we had all chatted amongst ourselves, thankfully in a less fearful manner than when the news of the spy had first dropped. We discussed a new regimen including taking stock of the various weapons and dangerous objects within the MonoMart, as well as considering regular meeting times, meal times, and ways to stay as a group. Many took an active role in these talks and spirits seemed surprisingly high as different ideas were passed around and matters were discussed civilly. Even Elsie remained somewhat reserved and neutral, though when her suggestion to cut off the alcohol supply didn’t go down well she grew slightly more irritable. These topics weren’t a bother to talk about whatsoever, though one subject had almost everyone visibly shaken – escaping the dome.

During that time I’d spoken very little, merely responding to others’ comments and commending certain ideas. I was happy to let everyone else make the big decisions while I simply went along with the flow. This was the role I was accustomed to and the one I had no intention of breaking from. Though all the while, as we talked, I grew ever distressed that Dopple – the mare who had seemingly befriended me and given me support during the first day – made no effort to converse with me and instead spent most of her time backing up Mesmer. The stallion peeked his head into the dining area and told Dopple that we needed privacy. Then he closed the door and turned to me, his expression as stoic and stony as ever. I clenched my teeth.

“You think I’m the spy.”

Mesmer frowned and shook his head. “Actually, no.”

I exhaled. “Really? Then why call me in here?”

“I must reiterate that while I cannot know for certain that you are not the spy, I do not believe you to be suspicious. Or at least, not yet. While anyone here could potentially be the spy, with a bit of deduction, I’ve cut the list down to just six.”

I snorted. “How could you possibly know that? Gut instinct? You’re some master detective?” My memories of the previous trial resurfaced and I felt a rush of anger through my veins. “You didn’t exactly figure out Pinkie’s murder all on your own.”

“Ah.” Mesmer smiled a little. “There you are again. You’re incredibly meek and apprehensive for the most part but every now and then you spring to life, filled with rage and fervor. It’s rather fascinating.”

I held myself back from retorting. You’ll just be giving him what he wants. “Whatever. But why six? And did you say we shouldn’t be trying to figure out who the spy is, that it would just tear us apart?”

“It would,” Mesmer replied, his face falling back to its normal state. “Or at least, it would for almost everyone. It’s easy to get caught up in one’s own baseless suspicions and imperfect emotions. Can you think of any examples of how this could happen? How someone could become convinced that someone else was the spy?”

“I don’t know,” I said, shrugging. I was feeling immensely uncomfortable and wanted to break out of the room, but Mesmer stood between myself and the door. “I guess you seem suspicious,” I finally said. “You made a big scene and told everyone not to think about the spy’s identity. That’s something the spy might do. Then you took a stand against Monobunny. That could’ve been a trick to make you seem less suspicious.”

“Good,” Mesmer replied. “And?”

“And?” I was confused. I had all but accused him of being the spy and he met my comment with… approval? “Uh, and I suppose Lancet is suspicious after what she told me earlier, as well as Sanscript. I have no idea if he talked her into it, so he could be the spy. And then Dopple…”

Mesmer raised an eyebrow. “What about her?”

“She made a case for why the spy might be a victim.” I sighed. “I guess that’s something the spy might do.”

“So now you see my point?” Mesmer’s tone of voice seemed much more at ease. “We could go down this rabbit hole forever and scrutinize every little action or discussion, convincing ourselves further. And from the sounds of it you find it distressing to think that Dopple might be the spy. Why is that?”

I looked away, knowing that my answer was unbearably stupid. “She seems so nice.”

“Of course, a spy might use this to their benefit, to make themselves seem more trustworthy to others. Then again, the spy might avoid drawing suspicion in other ways. Surely the spy would never get drunk, so maybe the spy did it to avoid suspicion. Surely the spy would never be loud or attention-seeking, so maybe they’ll do exactly that to seem innocent. Maybe you’ve been acting innocent this whole time because you’re the spy. This might explain why you made such an effort during the trial, because you’re putting on a show.” Mesmer looked to the floor. “Yet still this gets us absolutely nowhere. We can keep chasing these inane theories all we want and convince ourselves of someone’s guilt or innocence. My line of thinking is that we view everyone as we would in society: innocent until proven guilty.”

“But by the time they’re guilty, they’ve won,” I pointed out.

“Not necessarily,” Mesmer replied. “Like I said before, the evidence so far points to it being one of six.”

“Which six?”

Mesmer shook his head. “I can’t possibly tell you that.”

“But why not? If you don’t suspect me of being the spy, what danger is there?”

“Think for a moment,” Mesmer said, pointing to a camera in the corner of the room. “We’re being watched wherever we go. We’re being recorded no matter what we say. Even now, someone is listening. Even if I trusted you one hundred percent, there would still be a risk in divulging my ideas. Can you not think of which six I might be talking about?”

I thought for a moment but came up blank. I had no idea where to even begin. “No,” I said sternly. “What’s to say you’re not making this all up, anyway?”

“You’re free to think whatever you want, but it’d be better if you at least put some thought into what you say.”

“The spy might not even be one of those six for all you know. What then? How will you have helped anyone by pretending to act all clever?”

“If it ever comes to that, I owe you and everyone else an apology.”

I let out a small groan. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“What a pity,” Mesmer said mockingly.

“Why are you picking on me?” I blared, unable to keep my composure any longer.

“Like I said during the trial, you’re a bad detective.” Mesmer inched closer. “You make quick, self-assured assumptions, shout others down, get overly emotional and then lose yourself the moment you start getting things wrong. You act timidly, trapped in an aura of supposed self-pity, and then you strike with fire once you realize someone else knows better than you. It’s rather childlike.”

My blood was boiling. My legs tensed as if ready to pounce on him and beat him into a pulp. I wanted him to suffer for such a display of disrespect towards me, to feel my wrath. “You’re one to talk!” I blared, baring my teeth like a wild animal. “You didn’t exactly solve Pinkie’s murder, did you!?”

“Ah yes, your deduction was terribly accurate despite making several errors along the way. And surely we would never have voted for Shetland given the towering evidence that was already stacked against him.”

“You didn’t even know Inky was in the MonoMart at the time.” I puffed out my chest. “Plus, you didn’t speak up about the razor blades. A whole lot of good your investigation was!”

Mesmer took a small step back, sensing my overflowing hostility. “For your information I did ask Inky about her activities that morning and she refused to speak to me. But would she have even said anything during the trial, anyway? As for the razor blades, my attention during the tour was focused more on figuring out a method of escape. Regardless, your presence wouldn’t have changed the result of the trial. We’d have been more than equipped to solve the mystery without you.”

“I’ve had enough,” I muttered, moving around the central worktop towards the door.

“Wait!” Mesmer cried out, a hint of desperation in his voice. “I have one more question for you.”

I screwed up my face and turned to him. “What?”

“What if Maribelle had been secretly carrying a razor blade and adhesive yesterday? What if she was able to hide them inside her uniform? Would Shetland still have been Pinkie’s killer?”

I stopped in my tracks. “What are you trying to say? We already know Shetland was guilty!”

“Just stop and think for a moment,” Mesmer said calmly. “What if she had been carrying those items. Would that mean she was the murderer?”

Part of me wanted to bolt out of the room without further discussion but Mesmer’s question intrigued me. “Are you saying you think she was actually the killer? Do you disbelieve Monobunny?”

Mesmer shook his head. “No. In fact, Monobunny’s honesty is the only element of this killing game that I refuse to doubt.”

“Then I don’t know what your point is. I suppose if she was found with those items on her she’d be immediately suspicious, and it’s true that Dish Panner was the only one who could’ve seen them.” I thought for a moment, trying to recall the events of the previous day. “You think they were working together? That one of them is the spy?”

Mesmer rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. “How disappointing. I should’ve known you would completely miss my point.” He began walking towards the door, stopping just in front of me. “This discussion is over. Dopple and I need to finalize the group’s plans, anyway.”

“Dopple…” I blurted out unthinkingly.

Mesmer inched the door open and then closed it again, turning his attention back to me. “You are irked by me spending time with Dopple? Is this jealousy I detect?”

My heart fell inside my chest. “No!” I spat. “I just don’t get why she’d want to spend time with someone as arrogant as you!”

“Oh, is that it?” Mesmer’s creepy, infuriating smile returned. “Well, since we’ve already discussed a few hypothetical scenarios, here’s another one: what if Dopple and I were to get romantically involved? Equines are more prone to mating in times of crisis, you know. That’s psychology for you.”

Unable to take any more I barged past Mesmer and out of the room, startling the rest of the group. I could hear Mesmer still talking behind me. “What we spoke of stays between us, Greyscale. Give it some serious thought.”

“Greyscale?” Lancet asked worriedly.

“What did you do to him!?” Copper shouted, leaping into the air and landing in front of Mesmer.

I didn’t wait to see what would happen next. I barreled my way out of the dining hall and up the stairs to my room. Who does that asshole think he is!? I said inwardly. He thinks he’s so intelligent, but what kind of genius does nothing but ridicule those they see as beneath them!? I opened my door with my keycard and slammed it behind me, storming to my bed and burying my face in the pillows. I thudded against the bed with an outstretched hoof and swore into the sheets. My head throbbed as I was flooded with rage, the sound of my own heartbeat echoing in my ears. For so much of my life I had never had to deal with such intimidation, such unfriendliness from anyone. I wasn’t used to it, and I certainly couldn’t deal with it in such close proximity. The image of Mesmer’s smug grin resurfaced in my mind and I turned onto my back, breathing in short, sharp grunts. What reason he had for coming after me specifically, I couldn’t tell. I could only conclude that he was bitter and antagonistic, somehow irritated that I had taken the fame for solving the trial. But as I let this theory stew, I then couldn’t figure out why he would share supposedly secret information. If he was merely trying to aggravate me there were easier ways to do it, yet he chose to test my judgement and drill me with questions. As for his comments on Dopple…

There was a knock at the door. “Greyscale? Are you okay?” It was Dopple.

I stayed silent, unsure what to say. I wanted to be alone, to be away from all the hurt and the horror. But at the same time I felt an obligation to reach out, to be a part of the group. Neither choice felt agreeable.

“Greyscale, please let me see you,” Dopple continued. “We all need to stick together, even if it’s difficult.” She paused for a moment as I lay there in silence. “Do you want me to come back later?” she asked softly. “I can wait.”

I remained still for a moment, expecting to hear her hoof-steps fade away from the door, but there was nothing. I sighed, got up, and walked towards the door. I looked through the peephole and saw Dopple sitting forlornly on the other side. All at once I was reminded of how much care and attention she had shown me, a prospect I had given up on the moment she had stood alongside Mesmer. I wanted to understand why. “Dopple,” I said, sitting with my back to the door, “I think Mesmer hates me. And I… maybe I hate him too. What am I supposed to do?”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Dopple replied without skipping a beat. “Whatever he’s said to you, he probably doesn’t realize how insensitive he’s being.”

That wasn’t the response I had wanted. Hearing Dopple defend Mesmer without proof only made me angrier. “You’re wrong. He knows how hurtful he is and he doesn’t care.”

“If that’s the case, I’ll deal with him myself.” I heard Dopple shuffle behind the door. Getting up and peeking to the other side once more, I saw her sitting against the door, just as I had done. I didn’t know why, but this made my heart ache. “In any case, I don’t want to leave you when you’re feeling outcast. If Mesmer really has crossed the line, I’ll see to it that he learns his lesson. You can count on that.”

I opened the door just a few inches, my body moving before my mind had fully understood what I wanted. Dopple turned around and our eyes met through the gap. She looked genuinely troubled. “What makes you think he’ll listen to you?” I asked.

Dopple smiled. “You should ask him that,” she replied. “The answer might surprise you.”

For whatever reason, Dopple’s answer put me at ease. I sighed, opening the door wider. “What do you think of him?”

“I think he’s an arrogant intellectual with a chip on his shoulder,” she said with a shrug. “But I also think he means well, even if it doesn’t always seem that way.”

“You really think that?” I shook my head slightly. “I just can’t see it.”

“Maybe you’re right and he’s just being a spiteful, malevolent, childish individual. But does that make sense to you?”

I shied away from Dopple’s gaze. Thinking back, Mesmer’s actions and behavior were all over the place, not something I could outright pinpoint. I remembered his words during the trial. “Far from what you might believe I do not dislike you – frankly, I would do well to learn a great deal more about you – but I do believe it is necessary for me to challenge you here.” If he didn’t dislike me as he claimed, it made no sense for him to berate me, and to pick me out amongst a crowd of imperfect equines. It was as if he were testing me, to see how much it would take to set me off and render me nothing but a frothing, rabid dissenter.

“So, will you let me in?” Dopple approached the gap in the door with pleading eyes. “Or do you wish to stay alone? I’ll respect your decision if you do.”

I stared at the floor, the last of my anger dissipating like vapor. I hated to admit it, but Dopple’s mere presence and close proximity had made me feel calmed and comforted. If pacifying me was her goal all along she had pulled it off in spades. I felt as if deciding to be alone would tear down any and all bridges that I had unwillingly built, and that prospect utterly terrified me. I opened the door fully. “It’s okay, I’m fine. I’d feel better if we just got back to the group.”

“Alright. But if you ever need to get something off your chest just let me know. I should think Mesmer will back off a little.”

“I hope so,” I said, shutting the door behind me. “He was grilling me about my detective skills, started asking me what I’d think if–”

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Dopple said, holding a hoof up to my muzzle. “But I’m sure when you both came out of the kitchen he said to keep your conversation between the two of you.” She eyed me cautiously. “I don’t know what you discussed, but he looked very serious when he said that.”

Dopple’s interruption had startled me. Her demeanor was calm and collected, her tone light and relaxed, but for some reason I felt an undertone of panic. “Uh, well he always looks serious, doesn’t he?” I replied, chalking it up to my imagination. “He might’ve just said that because he didn’t want anyone else to know what he’s like.” As those words left my mouth I began to seriously doubt the validity of that statement. Something wasn’t adding up.

“It was just a thought.” Dopple walked on ahead. “I think it best that we try to get along.”

“Yeah.” I gave up trying to figure it out and followed. “I guess you’re right.”

“Saying that,” Dopple said mirthfully, “there’s a chance Copper might have given Mesmer a black eye.”

I stifled a laugh. “Now wouldn’t that be lucky.”

Upon returning to the dining hall, I was leapt upon by Copper. “Thank goodness you’re back! I made sure to give Lord Snarly a piece of my mind!” She raised a hoof defiantly.

“Wait, you really did hit him!?” I blurted out, spotting Mesmer in the corner holding a hoof over his forehead.

“Afraid not. I tried to, really I did, but the good Doctor and Maribelle held me back.” Copper shrugged. “I’ll get him next time.”

“No, really, don’t,” I pleaded. “Just leave it for now, okay?”

Copper looked over my shoulder with suspicion. “I take it the angel of hope convinced you to forgive and forget.” She raised her eyebrows at Dopple. “Anyone with a brain knows that that attitude only takes you so far.”

“You’re making baseless assumptions,” Dopple retorted without a hint of anger in her voice.

“Fine.” Copper sighed. “It doesn’t feel fair,” she said, furrowing her brow. “I slapped you yesterday for getting worked up about Pinkie, and then turns out you were right, and the killer was stood right next to us. You didn’t deserve that. I feel like I need to make it up to you.”

“Kiss it better!” Inky cried, leaning over the nearest table and beaming from ear to ear. “Come on, someone needs to get some action in this place.”

“Oh quiet, you perv!” Copper chided.

As Copper and Inky bickered I watched as Dopple approached Mesmer, the stallion listening intently as she spoke to him. He made no verbal reply, merely staring at the ground and nodding. It looked as if Dopple was commanding him like a servant. Dopple quickly came back and whispered into my ear: “There. He should be a bit nicer to you from now on.” My jaw dropped. “So, do you want to help gather supplies from the MonoMart?”

“I don’t trust her.”

“Huh?”

Copper removed two tins of kidney beans she’d been eyeing from the shelf and added them to the bag of food we’d collected. “Dopple. She acts way too nice and it bugs me. Doesn’t she seem off to you?”

“I don’t think so. What’s wrong with her being nice?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for her or something,” Copper said, rolling her eyes.

The two of us were accompanied by Sanscript and Lancet as we rounded up essentials from the MonoMart. With less than two hours to go before closing time, this was our only chance. Dish Panner, Maribelle, Elsie and Button formed one group and were gathering ingredients for the day’s meals, mostly foods that required sufficient cooking knowledge and preparation, of which Dish Panner and Maribelle were adept. Our group was in charge of gathering extras such as bottled drinks, appliances, as well as food items that required little preparation and could provide enough for anyone to snack on. Inky was also present but had wandered off alone, predictably to the alcohol section. Mesmer, Dopple and Reph had opted to stay behind to watch over Yoko (who was in no fit state to go anywhere) and discuss our escape plans.

“I haven’t fallen for her,” I protested, putting down a bottle of lemonade.

Copper raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “Well, if you say so. She just seems a bit too friendly and self-assured. I don’t know, I get this weird vibe from her. Almost feels like she really enjoys being in this twisted killing game, and that’s messed up.”

My heart fell inside my chest. I kept my gaze buried into a sea of cereal boxes, trying to regain my composure. “W-well, you don’t know if that’s the case. Maybe she’s just really good in a crisis.”

“Or maybe it’s something else.”

“Now please,” Lancet interjected. “You shouldn’t be making such accusations; it is counter-productive. You may not like her, but you must learn to live alongside her.”

“Y-yeah,” I said in agreement.

“Remember what we discussed beforehand?” Sanscript added. “Being suspicious of others or trying to guess who the spy is won’t get us anywhere.”

Copper stopped in her tracks and looked at the floor. “Do you all actually believe that crap?” She clenched her jaw tightly. “If we’d only just got here, maybe I could understand your naivety. But Pinkie was killed. She’s dead!” Copper furiously hurled a can of chopped tomatoes across the store, narrowly missing Sanscript’s head. “Why shouldn’t we be paranoid!? Why shouldn’t we be a little suspicious!? Two of us are already dead! No, make that three. Cube Rick was killed before we even woke up. And it turns out one of us is working for Monobunny. Did you all forget that!?”

“Copper, calm down,” Lancet said, creeping towards her.

“I just can’t take it!” Copper cried, making Lancet back away. “I don’t want to die! Anyone could kill me and I wouldn’t have a clue!” She rubbed at her temple furiously. “I just want to go home.” She looked at me sadly. “Greyscale, what do you think?”

“Me?” I stared back blankly.

Copper nodded. “Do you really think we shouldn’t be suspicious of anyone? That we should carry on and believe in each other?” She stepped to within a foot of my face and looked intently into my eyes. “I want you to be completely honest.”

I was shaken, unsure what to say. I couldn’t remember the last time I was ever put on the spot like this, and by someone who could react badly if I said the wrong thing. I wanted to look away but the burning emotion in her eyes told me that would be a mistake. I gulped and tried organizing my thoughts. “W-well, if you think about it, Copper, uh, if we think about it like that, I could be suspicious of you.” Copper’s face grew curious. “I could think that maybe you were saying all this j-just to make yourself look innocent.”

Copper’s cheeks flushed with color. “But that’s not…” she trailed off in thought.

“I could think you were just trying to make Dopple look guilty, which is something the spy might do. A-and you said you wanted to go home. W-well…” I steeled myself as I finished my point. “Someone might think to suspect you of plotting murder so you can go home. So should I be paranoid around you, Copper? Should I keep looking over my shoulder to make sure you’re not about to kill me? Should I always be on edge?”

Copper sat down, her head drooping. She was breathing heavily, looking as if she was struggling to hold back tears. “No,” she said quietly.

“Worrying all the time is just going to make this harder. Lancet can attest that letting our emotions get the best of us might not be the right thing to do.”

“He’s right,” Lancet said, smiling sadly.

I nodded. “S-so, we can still think about things like, uh, who the spy is, but not emotionally.”

Copper looked confused. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Oh.” I rubbed the back of my neck bashfully. “It’s nothing. Just something Mesmer told me.” There’s supposed to be a way of deducing the spy through evidence, I mulled. Six of us are possible culprits, but how am I supposed to figure out which six he means? “I guess I should say, don’t think about it so much.”

Copper sighed and furrowed her brow. “I guess. We need to work together so we can get out of here, right?”

I nodded confidently, glad that she understood my point. “Right.”

Copper approached me slowly and placed a hoof around my nape. I instinctively shuddered, anticipating that she would pull me into a warm embrace. Her body was sleek and curvaceous, her copper-colored coat smooth and shiny with her wings tucked tightly against her body. It was like gazing upon a masterfully-crafted bronze statue. Just as I was about to return her affections I felt a small breeze tickle my left ear and heard her whisper: “Do you truly believe we can escape this place?” She pulled back her face and our eyes met. Her powerful gaze could have pierced the heavens. “Be honest.”

I opened my mouth but no words came out. There was nothing I could say. I knew I couldn’t lie to her and get away with it. I shook my head slightly.

Copper released me. “Thanks for being truthful,” she whispered. “I hope we’re both wrong, of course. Perhaps you can understand why I feel the way I do. I’ll go along with what you say, but if I die in this place,” Copper said as she grimaced, “I want you to remember what I told you. Can you promise me that?”

I nodded weakly.

“I’m putting my faith in you. Don’t feel bad if you can’t put your faith in me. I wouldn’t.”

“Everyone!?” Elsie called out. She, Dish Panner, Maribelle and Button had approached our group. “Wait a second, where’s that darn zebra?”

“Right here!” Inky replied, raising a bottle of gin with glee.

Elsie rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

“Everyone,” Maribelle said, Button right at her side. “We should see to the matter at hoof. Dish Panner?”

The tan-coated mare was startled by her mention. “Oh, yes, of course.” She shuffled nervously away. “If everyone can bear witness.”

Everyone began to follow, Lancet stopping me briefly. “That was very courageous of you,” she said, smiling. “You were able to demonstrate to Copper just how dangerous paranoia can be. I think you did a good job.”

“Thanks,” I replied as we walked to the corner of the store. I knew Lancet’s words were meant to compliment me, that she understood I held some grand skill in convincing others to restrain their deterrence to others. But the truth was not so flattering. I merely expressed my own suspicions and then framed them as misguided theories. Everywhere I looked I could see flashes, small fragments of clues that could lead me to the identity of the spy or the next murderer. If I was to adhere to these ideas I would have to accept that I was in tremendous danger, yet I strangely felt little fear for my life. Then there was Mesmer, who had asserted that I shouldn’t entertain such emotionally-based thoughts. I wasn’t sure what to think – with every consideration rousing more suspicion – but I knew that more than anything I wanted to figure out the truth, no matter how far out of reach it seemed. Having someone who cared about me – someone to bond with – was outside the realms of my entire livelihood, almost to the point I considered it an imaginary construct. Twenty-three years of solitude had taken its toll, something I had failed to realize at the time. As much as I welcomed the attention of others, I had no idea what to do with it. I mulled over Copper’s enigmatic response and followed the rest of the group with my head to the ground.

“We’ll have to be very thorough,” Maribelle said. “We should triple check everything we count.”

“Sure, sure,” Elsie said hurriedly. “We won’t let the same disaster happen a second time. With that in mind, I should think it only natural that Maribelle and Dish Panner remove their clothes while in the MonoMart.”

“What!?” Dish Panner shrieked, clutching at her gown. “I really don’t think that’s necessary. It doesn’t even have any pockets!”

“Be that as it may,” Elsie said, “it’s still an issue. Nobody else is capable of hiding items on themselves but you two, and with razor blades hanging around I don’t see why we should make an exception.”

“Oh, I see!” Inky chimed in. “You’re saying you want everyone to be naked! You know, I’m down for that! Especially Maribelle. Rrrrrawr!”

“It would make me feel rather uncomfortable,” Maribelle said bashfully. “I am always with clothes, you see.”

“Oh, grow up!” Elsie snapped. “You want to talk about uncomfortable, I find it uncomfortable being held against my will in some psycho death trap! Anyway, Dish Panner, what’s your excuse? You and Maribelle both exposed yourselves to each other, what’s wrong with doing the same for everyone else?”

“It’s complicated,” Dish Panner said gruffly. “I’d prefer it if you’d drop the subject.”

Elsie moved in Dish Panner’s way with her nose held in the air. “I think not. You’re taking off your clothes and that’s final!”

Button and Sanscript both gasped in unison. “That’s the line!” Button cried. “From The Lusty Equestrian Maid! It’s like the best part!”

“Indeed,” Sanscript said, smiling to himself. “A pivotal moment showcasing female empowerment, her struggle to find herself leading to a sudden burst in confidence in the shadow of the shackles of the patriarchal society that surrounds her. The memories of her strict and oppressive upbringing and the despair of once believing she had discovered herself, subsequently failing, the coils of despair crushing her faith, all torn down in a flurry of emotion at the acceptance of being equine. Refusing both sexual objectivity and the desecration of individuality, all whilst embracing beauty in its most instinctive form and choosing a path less travelled in search of greater things.”

“Yeah!” Button said, nodding excitedly. “And then she takes off her boring old clothes and she’s super sexy underneath!”

“That too, but I feel you are perhaps simplifying the book’s nuances.” Sanscript glanced around and coughed awkwardly. “Anyway, I am surprised you know of it, Elsie.”

“I know nothing about your filthy porn book!” Elsie screeched. “We’re here to prevent murder!”

“That may be stretching it,” Lancet said. “You cannot assume that their reasons are ultimately so they can hide a murder weapon.”

Maribelle nodded. “That is correct, though I feel my reasons are less important than Dish Panner’s.”

“Oh?” Elsie stepped towards Maribelle. “And why might that be?”

“I made a promise to her,” Maribelle said with a small bow. “I shall never tell you, or anyone else why. All I can say is that we should respect Dish Panner’s wishes.”

“Thank you, Maribelle,” Dish Panner said with a sigh. “I knew I could trust you. I’m sorry everyone, but it’s a very personal matter.”

Elsie rolled her eyes. “How cute, but it doesn’t help us. I say we take a vote. Excluding Maribelle and Dish Panner, who hold an obvious bias, we should vote on whether they should be forced to give up wearing clothes. You obviously know where I stand, so what about everyone else? Remember that this is a life-or-death situation!”

“I vote no!” Button cried. “As much as I would like to see… well, I wouldn’t mind it at all, I guess I like the outfit all the same…” Button trailed off into thought before shaking his head. “Anyway, I don’t think it’s fair to force them!”

“I also vote no,” Lancet said. “We should be trying to foster trust, not painting everyone as a killer.”

“I’m sorry Doctor, but I’m afraid I disagree,” Sanscript said forlornly. “I believe we should all be on equal footing, even if it means an invasion of privacy.”

Lancet looked shocked but refrained from chiding him. “Okay. You have a right to have your say.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Inky put forth. “I really think you girls would do well to get your kit off. You’re missing out, and so is everyone else! Why, we’re just mammals at the end of the day.”

“I vote no,” Copper said determinedly.

“Really?” Elsie said in surprise. “I would’ve figured you’d jump at such a chance.”

“It’s not because I trust them,” Copper replied. “I just don’t think either of them would be stupid enough to do the exact same thing as Shetland. And even if they were, I have a plan. Wait here a moment.” Copper walked off to an adjacent aisle and returned with a plastic tray held in her mouth. She placed it on the floor for all to see. It was a tray of razor blades. “We take these inside and flush the whole lot away. I assume that’s alright with everyone?”

“Fine, whatever,” Elsie said disappointedly before turning her attention to me. “The last vote goes to you. I beg of you, please make the right decision.”

I shrank back instinctively as everyone’s eyes turned on me. “Go on,” Lancet said, nodding with encouragement.

I frowned. “Right. I need to think about this.” I gently closed my eyes. My first instinct was to block out the distractions. I didn’t want to be put on the spot, to have to make decisions for others at the risk of offending them. Back in the real world (as I began to consider it) I wouldn’t have to deal with the fallout of a tough decision. What I did meant very little and I meant even less to those around me, but within the dome I held an importance. My words held weight.

I considered both viewpoints. Elsie made for a compelling argument regarding the prevention of murder, and whatever Maribelle and Dish Panner’s personal reasons were they had to be flimsy at best. Even with Copper’s suggestion of disposing of the razor blades it was still possible for something else to be concealed that would allow for a killing to take place, perhaps a sachet of poisonous substance. Disallowing clothes wouldn’t eradicate the possibility of concealment but would certainly make it more difficult for the two mares. On the other hoof, they could become tense and unhinged. Dish Panner at least seemed highly opposed to the idea, almost obsessively so, which in turn could hint at wanting to use it in a murder attempt.

A spark came to me and I made my decision. “As much as I respect your reasoning, Elsie,” Even if they do use their clothes for murder… “I believe we should allow Maribelle and Dish Panner to remain as they are.” I’ll be able to figure it out… “If we’re to get along,” I’ll just keep it in mind during the next trial… “I don’t think we should impose rules that single anyone out.” I’m sure there will be another murder eventually… “Like Mesmer said, we’d all have to cripple ourselves,” I’ll be able to solve it… “to make sure nobody was capable of murder.” And show Mesmer… “He made a good point, I think.” How wrong he is… “We won’t get out of here with that mindset.” About me.

“Well put,” Lancet said with a smile. “So that’s the decision, then.”

“Thank you,” Dish Panner said, sighing contentedly. “It would’ve been truly difficult for me otherwise.”

“Okay, sure,” Elsie conceded, exhaling a little. “I guess it wouldn’t do much good anyway. In the end though, it just makes you look more suspicious since you’re the one who wanted a knife.”

We walked towards the far corner of the store, the atmosphere changing drastically. Before us were implements of pain and death, hanging innocently from the racking. All manner of knives, shears, hammers, crowbars and wooden bludgeoning tools loomed over us, mocking us with their pristine metallic gleam, unspoiled grips and smooth varnished veneer.

“Can we not just hide them away somewhere?” Maribelle asked. “There’s no reason to have them, is there?”

“If only it were that simple,” Copper replied. “We can’t flush these down the pipes and there’s nowhere we can put them that can’t be reached.”

“What about the roof?” Button piped up.

Copper shook her head. “Reph, Dopple and I would still be able to fly up there whenever we want.”

“Indeed,” Sanscript said gravely. “The only other solution would be to take them there, then, well…”

“Cut off our wings, you mean?” Copper finished, staring him down with a disgruntled expression. “Nice idea, but I’m not up for it, and I highly doubt Dopple and Reph would be either.”

“I-I wasn’t actually suggesting it!” Sanscript stammered.

Lancet sighed. “We can’t destroy them and we can’t prevent access. Taking stock and checking it regularly is the best we can do. We should line them up along the floor so we can get a good look.”

Together, Sanscript, Lancet and Elsie began levitating each item down and splaying them out like an exhibit. The atmosphere was thick and heavy. A thought came into my head – one that I was sure came into many others – that all it would take for anyone to die right here would be for one of the present unicorns to adjust their magic and fling the offending object at force into someone else. I felt like the unicorn trio also understood this, as they moved the potential weapons delicately and meticulously, reining in their abilities to juggle multiple objects. Within a minute or so, everything was set.

“I don’t like this,” Button whimpered as he looked worriedly over the collection of weapons laid out in front of us. “I keep imagining myself being stabbed and beaten to death with these things!”

“It’s odd,” Sanscript said quietly. “I wouldn’t bat an eyelid if I saw these tools in a more mundane setting, such as the local smith’s, but now they merely fill me with dread.”

“Hopefully we won’t have to worry,” Elsie said, peering down and adjusting her glasses. “We can make sure that nothing goes missing. Alright, I’ll start counting from this side and we’ll all keep track.”

The plan was simple: to avoid the use of dangerous weapons we would form groups and check the amount in the MonoMart as soon as it was open at seven o’ clock, partway through the day and also near to the eight o’ clock closing time, with the group standing watch to make sure that nobody entered before time ended. That way, if something went missing it would be easier to narrow down who could have taken it, and a full sweep of the dome would begin. The only exception to the rule would be the use of a kitchen knife for food preparation, which Dish Panner would be in charge of whilst in use, and then returned to the MonoMart for the following stock check.

Once everyone had collaborated, the initial count amounted to the following:

8 kitchen knives

7 combat knives

4 pairs of shears

5 lump hammers

3 sledgehammers

5 claw hammers

3 crowbars

6 wooden bats

4 wooden mallets

6 meat cleavers

8 wrenches

4 hacksaws

10 large screwdrivers

4 coils of rope

“That really is a lot,” Copper noted, biting her lip. “How will we remember it all? We could try and find a notepad or something to write it down.”

“I have a better idea. Wait here,” Elsie said, walking away from the group to another aisle on the opposite side of the store. She returned with a tin of paint marked as ‘Deathly Black MonoPaint’ and a wooden paintbrush in her telekinetic grasp. “By simply painting the item name and number onto the floor tiles we can make the checks as easy as possible.”

“But couldn’t that be washed off?” Dish Panner asked. “I’m not sure exactly what else is here, but maybe with a brush and some chemicals it could be possible.”

“Then we’ll take our time memorizing the numbers!” Elsie snapped. “I don’t know what else we are supposed to do, okay? The paint will take a little while to dry anyway, so let’s get the numbers in our heads.”

“What!?” Inky exclaimed. “You mean we have to sit here and literally watch paint dry? Oh, alright, I’ll be boring for once.”

With no other suggestions we did as such, Elsie writing each number in clear black against the cream-colored floor tiles as Sanscript and Lancet took turns recounting each item as they were slid back into place on the racking. Once all was done, the numbers 8 7 4 5 3 5 3 and 6 4 6 8 4 10 4 could be seen, with an abbreviated description of the item in question just underneath. “If we can at least memorize one of these seven-digit numbers,” Elsie said, “we won’t have issue.”

“Now we just need the kitchen knife for Dish Panner,” Sanscript said, lifting one down and bringing it towards her. The mare flinched and curled her limbs against her. “Oh! I didn’t mean to startle you!” Sanscript said, slowly placing the knife on the floor. “I didn’t think about how frightening it must be to have a knife come at you in mid-air.”

Dish Panner shook her head. “It’s not that. I’ve just now realized what I have to do.” She bent down and picked up the knife between her teeth and stood up straight, facing the rest of us with a grim expression. Then she repositioned the knife, holding it aloft with her right hoof. “I’ve held knives hundreds of times in my life. It’s simply essential when it comes to cooking. It’s always been natural, but now it just makes me feel like a criminal.” She chuckled sardonically. “This place has gotten to me more than I thought.”

“I can bring it if you wish,” Maribelle offered.

“No, that’s fine. I just need to remind myself what this is truly for. I think we all deserve one hell of a feast.” With that, she put the knife back into her mouth and plodded along in front.

“I’ll take these then,” Copper said, grabbing the tray of razor blades.

We each did our share in taking everything back, Sanscript and Lancet dealing with the heavier and more cumbersome items. I just now came to realize how hungry I was and became increasingly excited at the prospect of eating another dish from a renowned food critic and accomplished chef, this time without a lack of utensils holding her back. Once we reached the hotel foyer, Mesmer was waiting inside, looking deep in thought. “Ah, there you all are. Greyscale? I… need to speak with you again in private. The rest of you can go on in.”

“Haven’t you bullied him enough?” Copper rasped.

Mesmer tilted his head. “I should think your carrying of deadly choking hazards into the hotel just before a meal is far more suspicious than what goes on between myself and Greyscale.”

“I’m getting rid of them, alright?”

Mesmer tutted. “Maribelle? Button? Perhaps you could accompany her while she does so. Leave your bags here and I’ll take them through in a minute or so.”

Copper scowled. “So you don’t trust me to… oh, fine. Come on, you two.” Copper walked through the door heading left, deliberately nudging into Mesmer along the way.

Maribelle and Button followed after her diligently while Lancet, Sanscript, Elsie and Dish Panner headed to the dining hall. Inky grabbed a bottle of liquor from her bag and sneakily placed it behind my foreleg, whispering, “if he gives you any trouble, smash this against his head! Either that or you two get drunk until you start making out. Either one’s cool!” before skipping out of the room.

“Dopple asked me to make an apology,” Mesmer said, staring at the floor.

I wasn’t sure what to say. I couldn’t imagine how Dopple could have successfully admonished someone so bull-headed and commanding. “Okay,” I said dumbly.

Mesmer frowned, levitating the liquor bottle out of my reach and into one of the store bags. He paced for a moment or two, seemingly collecting his thoughts. “I’m sorry if you took what I said the wrong way.”

I made a guttural sigh, deflated by his response. “If you’re not going to properly apologize, don’t bother.”

“Greyscale, I don’t think you understand.”

“And again, you’re just insulting my intelligence.”

Mesmer cringed at my retort. “I didn’t mean to. Look, I don’t want to bullshit you.” He began to creep towards me.

“Then you’re a lot like Monobunny, aren’t you?” I scoffed, strafing left and eyeing the door on my right, the quickest way to the dining hall. “You don’t want to lie. I guess you’re not sorry, are you?”

“No, you’re wrong, I am sorry,” he said with a hint of exasperation. “Just stay here for one moment.” Instead of approaching me any further as I expected, he reached towards the desk by the entrance and tapped the brass service bell twice, which emitted a piercing ding ding.

“What are you doing?” I balked, suddenly very confused. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Do you remember what this bell is for?” Mesmer asked, straight-faced. “Think back.”

I looked at Mesmer then back at the bell intensely. “Wait,” I said, remembering the tour we’d been given just yesterday. I mentally retraced my steps from the moment we’d woken up in the room and found the answer I was looking for. “It’s to summon Monobunny for assistance.”

“Correct!” came a jovial voice from the opposite corner of the room. None of the doors had been opened yet Monobunny stood in plain view. “Though I have to say, you’re calling me at a rather inopportune time. I have things to do, you know?”

“But you still came,” Mesmer pointed out. “You said it yourself that you’d come here if ever this bell is rung.”

“The bunny giveth and the bunny can taketh away!” Monobunny said, skipping towards us with his paws behind his back. “If I keep getting bothered or I decide the bell is being used improperly I’ll just get rid of it! As far as you should all be concerned that bell is a luxury, not a right, so don’t go thinking you can stand here pressing it over and over like teenagers playing a prank!”

“That wasn’t my intention,” Mesmer replied. “I want to ask you a question.”

“Alright, but remember that I’m only obligated to tell you the truth; I’m not obligated to give you an answer, ‘kay?”

“Understood. Tell me, Monobunny, is there only one spy?”

Monobunny exhaled. “That’s really all you wanted to ask me? Weren’t you listening before? Yes, I can confirm there is only one, single, solitary spy among you. Now, is that it?”

“Not yet.” Mesmer turned to me. “Greyscale, I’d like you to ask him a question. Anything that comes to mind, just ask it.”

“Me?” I said, puzzled. “About what?”

“Anything,” Mesmer repeated. “Anything you’ve been wondering. Anything that doesn’t make sense.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of Mesmer’s remark. I wondered if he’d simply summoned Monobunny to see what I would do, merely out of curiosity. But out of my own curiosity I decided to indulge his request. So much of what Mesmer had done and said was bewildering at best and sent a barrage of mixed messages. I wanted to see where his madness would lead. And so, remembering my strange experience upon waking up earlier – of hearing a voice that seemed detached from my dreams – I asked a question I had been wondering about, something that worried me about my own sense of self.

“Does the spy… know that they’re the spy?”

Monobunny tilted his head. “Say what?”

“I mean, has the spy been the spy since the beginning? They’ve not become the spy or been given special rules as this killing game has progressed, have they?”

Monobunny shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, but yes, the spy has been the spy since the beginning and has known, without a doubt, that they are the spy. Is that all?”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes. That’s all.”

“Good! Well if that’s all you need from me, scram! And don’t forget, have fun killing!” With that, Monobunny darted from the room.

“That was an odd question,” Mesmer commented. “And it didn’t really get us anywhere. My guess is we need to ask him questions that he’ll either refuse to answer or skirt around, being unwilling or hesitant to tell the truth. That could help us out.”

“Yeah, whatever,” I said, picking up one of the store bags. At this point I could barely get angry at Mesmer’s overly-critical and elitist attitude. I was simply tired of it.

“Still, it wasn’t a question I ever thought to ask. What if you’d stumbled on something big? I suppose there’s no time for hypotheticals. Come on, we should join the others. I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

I stopped in front of the door and gave Mesmer a long, piercing gaze.

“Is something wrong?” Mesmer asked.

“Back there when you asked Monobunny how many spies there were, he said you would’ve known if you’d listened to him before. Now that I think back, I’m pretty sure he made it clear there was only one spy when the fact was revealed. Do you remember?”

Mesmer smiled. “Of course. I remember it well.”

“So you already knew the answer.” I stared at the floor for a few moments, trying to compile my thoughts. “I don’t know what to make of you.”

“I could say the same to you,” Mesmer replied, raising an eyebrow. “Now, shall we get going?”

I was about to concede when I remembered something from earlier that day, a cryptic comment that Dopple had made. “One last question. What is it with you and Dopple? Why is it that you’ll listen to her?”

This time it was Mesmer who stopped for a moment to think. “Alright, I’ll tell you. But whether or not you believe me is a different story. The truth is, Dopple might just be the greatest asset we have in this place. She is, if I’m right about this, the most intelligent one among all of us. That is why I listen to her.”

“Dopple? The most intelligent one here?” Mesmer was right – I had no idea whether to believe him or not. “But she’s just an impersonator!”

“And you’re just a nobody.” Mesmer nudged past me and into the corridor. “I suppose by that logic you must be an idiot who can’t contribute anything of worth. Is that what you believe?”

“No,” I said quietly as Mesmer walked on ahead. The two of us made it into the dining room just before Copper, Maribelle and Button rejoined us. As I sat there waiting for my meal I drifted off into my own little world. Can the list of potential spies really be boiled down to six? Would Maribelle have been guilty if she’d been carrying the items used for the murder? What question could I ask that would stump Monobunny? Without any answers or even a place to start I gazed across the room at the surly, maroon-coated unicorn on the opposite side and asked myself the most pressing question of all: Just what is it that you’re up to, Mesmer?