The front doors of the Ponyville Police Department echoed loudly through the desolate building. The power had seemingly been cut – the entire building was vacant and dark. There were signs of disarray – chairs in the lobby toppled over, the receptionist’s desk had papers scattered around it, and some of the doors hung partially open.

And there wasn’t a living soul in sight.

“You don’t think that Beelzebub…” Daring began, swallowing.

Phil shook his head. “I don’t know. I hope not,” he replied quietly.

They each pulled out their flashlights, switched them on, and clipped them on the front of their shirts. Daring pulled out her stockwhip at the ready, eyes darting around at the shadows cast by their beams.

“So, where do we start?” Daring whispered, shining her light down one adjacent corridor and then another.

The sound of hoofsteps approaching caught their attention. They shined their flashlights in the direction – just in time to catch a crystal unicorn in the face with them, and cast refracted lights across the darkened walls.

“Mortis?” Phil asked, angling his flashlight away. He frowned. “What’s your first name?”

“M-My name… My name is Dr. Vitae Mortis, I’m a mortician at the Ponyville Police D-Department, and… and… I think I’m g-going into shock,” she rasped.

Phil and Daring nodded to one another, the former wrapping her leg around his shoulders to help stabilize her. “Easy, Mortis. What’s happened here?” Phil asked gently, walking her towards the entrance.

“Th-There was this… red blur. I remember hearing shouts and sc-screams, and then… I got so dizzy. I must have passed out. When I came to, I ran for the entrance,” Mortis said.

“Where is everyone?” Daring asked.

Mortis shook her head. “I… I don’t know. I didn’t see anyone, and I don’t remember anything after I blacked out,” she said.

“Stay near the entrance, we’ll look around,” Phil said, carefully removing her leg. “If anything comes at you, run as fast as you can out of the building. Even if it sounds like us.”

Mortis nodded. “Be careful, Phil,” she said, shying towards the front doors.

Phil and Daring turned towards the hallway Mortis had run from and proceeded down the darkened corridor. Everything was quiet, save for their hoofsteps which echoed down the empty precinct.

They occasionally turned to check rooms, giving each a cautionary sweep with their flashlights before poking their heads inside and giving them a look. Everything was in the aftermath of chaos – furniture overturned, filing cabinets opened and the contents strewn about, and doors left ajar. Fortunately, the only thing that seemed to be missing was any sign of blood or gore.

That is, until they came to the morgue. As they opened the door and shone their light around the sterile-reeking room, Phil’s flashlight fell on a faint trail of crimson drops. “Got something here,” he said, leaning in close. He shut his eyes and inhaled. “Fresh.”

Daring shone her light down the length of the drops, which trickled out of the room and down the hall. “We must’ve missed it because of all the stuff laying around,” she remarked. “Did Mortis look hurt to you?”

“No, but we’d better go check on her to be sure,” Phil said.

As they turned back towards the front door, their flashlights fell upon an orange figure in the doorway, and all three of them shouted and jumped. Daring readied her stockwhip, until she realized just who it was.

“Phil! Daring!” Flash said, setting a hoof on his chest and taking several steadying breaths. “Am I glad to see you two.” His uniform seemed torn and disheveled, but otherwise there wasn’t a mark on him.

“What’s the big idea scaring us half to death?” Daring snapped, lowering the whip.

Phil set a hoof on her shoulder and turned to Flash. “We’re glad to see you’re alright, jackaroo. Have you seen anyone else?”

“N-No. I woke up in Red’s office, and he’s gone! I was going to head down to Dr. Suunkii’s lab and see if I could at least find Twilight or someone,” Flash said, shaking his head.

Phil hummed and leaned in close to Daring. “What do you think?” he murmured.

“Seems like Flash to me,” Daring whispered. “Definitely got his priorities straight. But what about Mortis?”

“I’ll go check on her – you go with Flash. I’ll meet you in Suun’s lab if she’s not too hurt.” Phil pulled out his waddy club. “We each have a weapon to fight this demon if we find her, so keep your guard up.”

Daring nodded, turning back to Flash. “I’ll go with you to Suunkii’s lab, Flash,” she said. “Phil says he’s going to check the rest of the building.”

Flash swallowed and nodded, flashing a grateful smile. “We should hurry then – no telling what’s happened to anyone.”

As Flash and Daring headed down the hallway to the entrance down to Suunkii’s lab, a nagging thought made Phillip turn and shine his light over the blood trail in the mortuary. As it illuminated the beginning of it, he frowned and headed back towards the entrance.

“Mortis, it’s me!” Phil called as he returned to the entrance, club in hoof.

She had started towards one of the front doors, hoof on the handle. “H-How do I know for certain?” she said quickly, eyeing him up and down with wide eyes.

“Earlier, when we were interrogating… that strange unicorn, you’d had a coffee with two sugars, as you usually do for your late shifts,” Phil said. “You always drip some on you – it was on your coat collar this time.”

Mortis calmed down, hoof falling from the handle. “Oh thank goodness,” she breathed. “What is it, Phil? Did you find something?”

“Well, we saw some blood in the morgue, I was worried you’d been hurt,” Phil said, shining a light all along Mortis’s body. “The blood trail led back here.”

“O-Oh? Well, I feel fine… as fine as I could, I suppose,” Mortis said, wiping at her brow.

There was something in her body language that caught Phil’s attention. He’d never seen the mortician so nervous before – her body was trembling, sweat was beading at her brow, and her eyes wouldn’t meet his.

“There’s something else… you said you’d been knocked out for some period of time, right?” Phil asked, eyes narrowing.

“Y-Yes. I didn’t get the chance to see a clock on my way out, so I don’t know for how long,” Mortis said.

“We received a call from the precinct approximately seven minutes ago. If you had been attacked before then, that’s nearly ten minutes of unconsciousness,” Phil explained. “And there would’ve been a pool of blood in the morgue.”

He frowned. “There’s not. And you’re not hurt, so where did that blood come from, Mortis?” He shone the flashlight in her face.

Mortis winced against it. “I-I don’t know, Phil. I w-was unconscious a-and--”

“Enough tricks, demon. We know you’re a shapeshifter.” Phil leveled the club straight at Mortis and slowly approached. “What have you done with everyone?” he growled.

“…Demon?” Mortis’s fearful gaze turned smug, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Not quite, detective.”

A high-pitched sound forced Phil to clamp a hoof over his ear, then put away the club to cover the other. He backed away as the sound rattled his very brain, backing away from the source…

Dr. Mortis.

He opened one eye to see Mortis begin to distort in front of him, like static on a monitor. She turned to him with a sinister smile, before her crystalline body was replaced by that of a familiar golden unicorn, wearing a purple top hat, bowtie, and shimmery vest.

“Permit me to introduce myself,” the mare said, taking off her top hat in her hoof and doing a grand bow. “I am Charlotte Rigor, at your service.” Her visible green eye stared up at him.

The sound had finally subsided enough for Phil to grip his club again, glaring at the mare. “Where’s Mortis? Where is everyone?” he demanded.

The mare simply giggled, standing upright and then replacing her top hat. She charged forward, barely giving Phillip any time to fully pull out the club. As one of her forehooves raised to strike him, he prepared to grab it.

The blow would’ve landed in the middle of his chest if he hadn’t caught it, but instantly something felt off. Her hoof and leg felt soft, like a normal pony’s, but underneath of the hair it felt stiffer and hard, as if it was nothing but bone beneath.

He tried to budge the limb, to flip her over or throw her off, but found he couldn’t. It was like trying to budge a statue. In a second, his eyes drifted from the leg up to Charlotte, who was now grinning like a maniac.

And then the next second, he was flying over her shoulder.

Phillip crashed against one of the front doors, cracking the bulletproof glass on impact and sliding to the ground with a groan. He forced his dazed mind to focus at the sound of hoofsteps, and promptly rolled out of the way and onto his hooves, producing his waddy club.

Charlotte, meanwhile, landed a blow that would’ve been to Phil’s stomach – instead it shattered the bulletproof glass. The maniacal grin once again turned back to him.

“What are you going to do with that thing?” she sneered, charging at him again.

Phillip swung the club like a bat as she got into range – the mare ducked under it like a serpent, bringing an uppercut with her. Phillip’s head jerked back and a gust of wind brushed past his chin. Frowning, he gripped the club in his other hoof and brought it down on her extended leg.

There were two simultaneous cacophonies: that of rolling thunder and that of clanging metal. Pink sparks exploded from Charlotte’s leg as she limped backwards, eyes wide in horror as she looked between her struck limb and him.

Phillip disregarded the unusual reaction in favor of taking another swing, this time aimed at the side of the mare’s head. With a snarl, she ducked underneath it and began to backpedal and jerk away as Phillip continued to try and land a blow.

“Stop right there,” Charlotte growled as she backed against a wall. Her maniacal grin returned.

“Where are the others?” Phillip demanded, raising his club.

“Take one more step, and I skewer the real Dr. Mortis.”

Phillip blinked in confusion, his eyes scanning the vicinity. To his trained eye, there was nothing but empty air around Charlotte Rigor, and nothing even within grabbing distance to back up such a threat.

Then that high pitched whine returned and Phillip growled, covering his ears. He forced one eye open to watch Charlotte, and his jaw dropped.

The mare’s visage flickered away yet again, becoming mere static as flesh and bone gave way to fur and metal.

Charlotte’s form resembled a smiling unicorn costume, slightly larger than a pony. She still retained her coloration and clothing from her “realistic” appearance, but now there were gaps in the joints, revealing cold metal underneath – and beneath that still, the faint glimmers of crystalline skin.

“What… what are you?” Phillip growled.

“Are you familiar with an iron maiden, detective?” Charlotte’s voice now played from a speaker, originating from somewhere in her throat. “I’m worse. I am comprised of a metal skeleton, conveniently tucked away by a series of springlocks that hold it back – and dear Dr. Mortis is currently where it normally resides.

“Should I… say, trip the springlocks, your dear mortician will become a bloody pulp of shredded tissue and shattered bones as my parts recompress. So, I suggest you not make any sudden movements.” She gave an electronic snicker that sounded like static.

Phillip growled, slowly lowering his club. He could see Mortis shifting under the machine, muzzled cries for help coming from Charlotte’s own muzzle. “Why are you doing this? What do you want with her?”

“She was just a convenient target,” Charlotte replied. “I am to keep you and your partner here until my mistress is done. We can’t have you interfering with her plans.”

“Daring,” Phillip suddenly realized. He raised a hoof to sprint towards the hallway, his stomach dropping when he realized the nature of the trap. The only thing that stopped him was an electronic burst of static that sounded like someone clearing their throat.

“Not a step in any direction, detective,” Charlotte said. “But please, feel free to sit and get comfortable. We’ll be here a while.”

“Who do you work for?” Phillip demanded. “Beelzebub? Did she put you up to this?”

“Beelzebub is as much a pawn as I am, detective. She has a debt that needs to be repaid, through servitude,” Charlotte said. “My mistress is far, far more powerful.”

“Nightmare Moon?” Phillip frowned. “You’ve freed her, so why not let her loose? Unless… she’s not your mistress either.”

“Very astute, detective. My mistress has many powerful pawns.” Charlotte giggled. “I’m sure Beelzebub is having a great time with your partner.”

Phillip clinched his teeth, mind running through the possible scenarios. He needed to get Mortis out of that talking suit, but he’d need a way to prevent the springlocks from going off. He didn’t know how to even get to them, much less do it quicker than Charlotte could trip them.

His eyes slid down to Charlotte’s leg, eyes widening slightly. There was a definite dent in the front of the foreleg where he had brought the club down, marked by a dent in the faux fur of the machine. Charlotte even had it lifted off the ground slightly as it stood, as if it were broken. The occasional pink spark bounced from it and onto the floor.

A plan quickly formed, and his grip quickly tightened on his club. He took a deep steadying breath, eyes locked with the fake green eye of the machine. Quietly, he muttered a prayer to Angkakert: “Please let this work.”

And then he struck.

The club arced down on the machine’s head, and a great clap of thunder rattled the remaining doors and vibrated the overturned furniture in the lobby. Phillip pulled away to find he had left a sizable dent in the costume’s forehead, just behind the horn.

“NO!” the machine roared, Charlotte’s voice now distorted static as pink sparks poured from the machine’s joints and crevices. Her mouth hung open limply. “SPRINGLOCK CONTROLS: OFFLINE. MOTOR CONTROL: OFFLINE. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

The machine began to twitch, ears flapping and tail swishing out of control. Phillip ran forward and gripped Charlotte by the muzzle and neck and gave a tremendous yank.

There came the whining sheer of metal ripping apart and the head came loose. The rest of the body went limp, the sparks sputtering out. Charlotte’s eye became half-lidded as the machine was finally silenced.

And where Charlotte’s head had been was Mortis’s, mane disheveled and glasses missing, with thankfully nothing more than a few minor cuts.

“Remind me to not get on your bad side,” she groaned.

“Sorry, Mortis,” Phillip said, quickly discarding Charlotte’s head and running over to start pulling at the suit containing her. “Are you alright?”

“A little cut up – the insides of this… thing are sharp,” Mortis remarked. She craned her head back to look over her shoulder. “There, middle of the back. There should be some release clasps. I was unfortunately conscious when this thing put itself on me.”

Phillip searched the back where Mortis was looking, and found a thin seam in the costume’s faux fur. Prying it apart, there came snaps that made his heart jump—for fear of the still active, and now uncontrolled, springlocks Charlotte had mentioned—followed by hisses.

With a metal clatter, the suit felt away like a sack of metal bones around Mortis’s hooves. She quickly shimmied her legs out of the suit and stepped away from it.

“Who designed that thing and what drugs were they on?” she remarked, eyes sliding over the machine’s exposed inner workings. They almost resembled a metal pony’s skeleton.

“Stay near the entrance, I need to go find Daring,” Phillip said, grabbing his club and racing down the hallway towards Suunkii’s lab.

“Keep quiet,” Daring hissed back to Flash as she slowly opened the door to Suunkii’s lab. She peered inside, sweeping her flashlight around the room. Twilight’s neat system had been thoroughly ransacked, with papers and equipment scattered about the lab.

“Twilight’s going to have a fit about this,” Flash muttered as Daring stepped into the lab, and he followed, observing the damage.

“Let’s focus on finding her first,” Daring replied. She peeked under some of the tables, examining some of the scattered papers. “Were she and Suunkii working on any experiments?”

“Not that I know of,” Flash said. “What caused all of this anyway?”

“Some sort of demon,” Daring replied, turning her flashlight towards the door that led down to the records and evidence departments.

“Demon?” Flash swallowed. “Did… do you think they took Twilight and the others?”

“I’m not sure. I didn’t think that Lucifer was serious, but I guess she’s the real deal.” Daring gave a weak chuckle. “Now would be a good time for another prayer on that emblem of yours.”

“…My what?”

Daring halted, turning to Flash. He winced as the light struck his eyes. “That Holy Mother’s emblem.” She moved the light down to his chest, frowning as she noticed the lack of the chain the emblem would’ve been on. “Where is it?”

Flash felt around his chest. “I-I don’t know. I swore I had it on b-before I blacked out…”

Gears turned in Daring’s mind. She remembered Justice saying holiness and demons not mixing. And Lucifer had said the demon had been a changeling. And the Flash in front of her, raised by a pastor, conveniently lacked his Holy Mother emblem.

“Motherfucker,” Daring swore, producing her whip.

“Guess the charade is over,” Flash sighed, before hacking as if he was about to vomit.

Something heavy and sticky splattered the front of Daring’s shirt just after she had pulled out her whip, coating her flashlight and turning its light into a dark blood red. A sickeningly sweet stench wafted up to Daring’s nostrils. There was a burst of crimson fire in front of her, and Flash was gone.

“Motherfucker,” Daring hissed, yanking off the flashlight. Whatever the substance was had hardened like amber – the flashlight landed on its back, illuminating the whole of the lab in its deep crimson light. “Come out, you fucking demon! What’d you do with everyone?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” came a feminine, prim voice from the shadows. Daring cracked her whip in the direction and struck only air. “Honestly, what do you intend to do with that paltry thing?” Another crack, another miss.

“How about you show yourself and find out?” Daring growled, pivoting in place as her eyes scanned the room. The shadows seemed to dance in the slight flickering of the flashlight, but nothing seemed to be moving.

Then Daring’s focus shifted to the ceiling, and a dark red blob of chitin descended upon her like the plague.

She managed to roll out of the way as the changeling-demon landed with a thump where she’d been standing. Upon getting upright, she snapped out the whip – Beelzebub made to dodge it, but a foreleg was ensnared by the very end.

A bright white burst of light illuminated the room like a flashbulb as lightning arched down the length of the stockwhip and into the demon. Beelzebub hissed and snarled, rolling to the ground – pulling Daring and the whip with her.

Daring went flying over Beelzebub, the whip untangling from her target’s foreleg as she passed by. She crashed into a filing cabinet, leaving a sizable dent before sliding to the ground. Her eyes blinked into focus as a hissing red blob filled her vision.

Daring’s head jerked back just as one chitinous leg shot past like a cannonball, putting an even deeper dent into the metal cabinet. Another backhoofed swipe caught Daring square in her chest—fortunately padded by dragonscale—and sent her tumbling back.

Daring swatted at Beelzebub with her whip as the demon charged her, the very tip glancing along the side of her barrel with a crackle of electricity and another hiss. Beelzebub bounced against another filing cabinet before barreling into Daring.

The wind escaped Daring’s lungs as she was flung into the far wall and slid down. She sat upright propped against the wall—thankful her wings were somehow unbroken after all the tumbling—and glared at Beelzebub with one murderous eye.

The demon was wheezing. A gash spread down the length of her barrel, and she was trying not to put too much weight on the hoof that had been snared. But she seemed to still have enough fight left in her – she snarled, angled her horn towards Daring, and charged like a lancer.

Daring shut her eyes and whispered a prayer to Awely-Awely: “Please, please let this work.” She cast out her whip one more time.

The whip snaked under the charging demon and ever so lightly touched her chest. There came a flash of lightning that seemed to come from—or through—the ceiling, bathing the entire room in white and followed by a clap of thunder that rattled the furniture in the room, mixed with a piercing scream.

When Daring’s vision finally returned, Beelzebub was no longer in front of her. Her head snapped to the door as it slammed open, but whatever had been there was gone. The red, amber-like substance that coated Daring’s flashlight cracked, reverting its light back to normal.

“Daring!” Phillip called as he ran into the room. His eyes fell on the whip gripped tightly in her hoof.

“Phil! …Is that you?” Daring asked.

“Yeah.” He stopped before her, producing the waddy club. “Are you alright?”

Daring breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m gonna be bruised in the morning for sure,” she said with a weak chuckle as she slowly got to her hooves with a grunt. “Did you see Beelzebub?”

“If you mean that red blur, yes, but she got away before I could stop her – she seemed to be in a big hurry,” Phillip remarked, putting the club away.

“Well, these weapons do seem to work on them,” Daring said. “How’s Mortis?”

“I’ll explain after we find everyone. They aren’t down here?” Phillip looked around.

“No, but they have to be somewhere… right?” Daring swallowed, not wanting to voice any other possibilities. Phil’s look grew hard and he nodded in response.

Their ears twitched at a faint sound, and they looked to the ceiling as they honed in on it – something clanging on metal bars and rattling them. It was faint, but in the quiet of the darkened police station, it came through.

“Lockup,” they said simultaneously, looking to one another.

“Where else would you keep prisoners?” Daring said with a breathless chuckle as they ran from the room.

Lucifer walked up to the remains of Charlotte Rigor – or at least the machine. Phillip had tossed the head on top of the suit and the entire thing looked like a mangled, bloodless pony corpse. None of the officers wanted to get near it, least of all Mortis. Most of them were chatting away over the ordeal, save for Red who was still ranting about being locked up in their own lockup.

“You said your club was effective on it?” she asked Phillip behind her

“It disabled its… springlocks, I believe she called it,” Phillip said. “She also mentioned her mistress – someone who was using Beelzebub and Nightmare Moon as pawns.”

“Demonic energy powering an animatronic suit… powerful pawns…” Lucifer’s look turned grim as her eyes darted back and forth in thought.

“Who the hell are we dealing with?” Daring asked as she walked over. The nurse had checked her over and given her some painkillers for the coming bruises.

“She’s targeting those close to you two, but why would she… wait.” Lucifer turned to Phillip. “What is Luna’s connection to the officers here? The ones afflicted with nightmares?”

Daring and Phillip glanced between each other.

“She… helped us when we lost Trace,” Phil said. “All of us.”

“Of course! She’s not after those close to you – she’s after those close to Luna. Whatever her scheme is, it involves Luna.” Lucifer turned to the disassembled animatronic. “And I think I know who she is.”

“Who?” Daring demanded.

Lucifer swallowed, looking them in the eyes. “The Mirror Twin.”

Just as Phillip and Daring’s mouths opened to press further, a white light enveloped the three of them.

Author's Note

Curious? Charlotte Rigor was what we call a springlock suit – a wearable animatronic, in a sense, and a sentient one at that. The animatronic components are held back by springlocks, and failure of said springlocks is quite a messy way to go.

As for her appearance, that’s a recent piece of technology known as an Afton Mirage Disk (AMD). It emits a sound frequency that fills in the gaps of your perceptive memory. Say you saw a red octagonal sign without really looking at it, you’d assume it’s a stop sign. Charlotte’s AMD allows her to trick a mortal’s mind into thinking what you think she is. Makes animatronics look realistic – or give them a disguise.

And because she’s demon-powered, she shares a weakness to divine weapons, just like Beel. Convenient.

~L