Sanguine Joy

Chapter 11: Friends or Enemies?

Rarity was lying in a bed, listening to Pinkie’s snoring and trying to ignore the pain that came from her wounds.

Is this really the best they can do? I mean I know that this is an infirmary and not a five star hotel, but linen sheets? Really? She shuffled under the covers, trying to find a position where the rough cloth didn’t scratch her delicate skin. She failed.

Ugh! She puffed out the air out of her lungs, her eyes wandering around the room. What do the patients here do to keep themselves occupied? Stare at the wall? It’s just plain white, not even a picture or a wallpaper. There isn’t even a mirror anywhere!

She reached to her head with her hoof. Linen pillow... my mane must be looking dreadful. I’ll have to sneak through the town so that nopony can see me like that!

Rarity slammed her hoof down on the sheets. I’m lying in a stupid linen bed, which is in a boring, plain room without even a mirror, dying of boredom, and it’s all Pinkie’s fault!

She looked at Pinkie, who just shifted in her sleep, her hoof hanging outside the bed, frowned, and turned around to face the other side of the room.

She didn’t even support me when I told the Cakes about the ‘magical explosion that was probably caused by the murderer, who was trying to kill them’ thing. It was all just a bunch of nonsense, but if she at least nodded her head or did something other than just sit there, looking dumber than Gummy, then maybe they would have believed me easier! At least I hope they believed me in the end, or there might be a detective shuffling through my house right now!

She took a deep breath, the air cooling her down a little. Well, at least she’s not the murderer – the Cakes confirmed her story about locking herself inside her room before yesterday night, but they didn’t really have to; I doubt she would lie to me again after what her last lie did.

That, however, doesn’t change the fact that she’s a vampony! And has been for a long time now, as she informed me. Did she think that would help her? It only makes matters worse – she hid it from me! I always knew there was something off about her, ever since the time we first met on the school’s playground. Every time somepony talked to her, she was laughing and smiling all around, but when she thought that she was alone, she cried or just stared at the wall. Why did I have to feel sorry for her? Now look at what your charity has brought you, Rarity – you’re the same monster she is, good job.

She slowly counted to ten, focusing on her breathing pattern. It doesn’t matter now. I am still the same pony that I was before the attack, right? Right. Although... I was quite brutal back there. Oh, Pinkie, what did you drive me to? Lying to me, hiding secrets from me, taunting me... Did you want to get hurt? The things you said about doing to Sweetie Belle... that’s just sick!

She did say that she was under control of her ‘Evil Voice’ – how convenient for her to blame something that can’t be punished or even defend itself! My voice never even came close to controlling me, so why did hers? Couldn’t she just ask Twilight for help like I did? Or, for that matter, any unicorn adept in the ways of magic? And why did it appear now, just when a murderer comes into town? Terribly suspicious.

Although... she wasn’t the one who attacked first. She said that the ‘Evil Voice’ took over only after I started attacking her, and it’s true that she didn’t sound aggressive at all while we were still talking. Still, she lied to me. She lied to everypony! She put on a mask of a good-hearted, joyful pony, while in reality she was a murderous, blood-sucking, wretched, monstrous vampony!

And the nerve she had! So what if I thought that being able to heal even the most grievous wounds in just a day is great? That doesn’t mean I’m some opportunist that only dislikes vamponies when it suits her! I was merely pointing out a thing that I thought to be positive; to lift the bad mood and maybe close the gap between us a little.

What was she thinking, calling me a hypocrite? I practice what I preach! Am I a liar? Most certainly not! I only lied to Cakes because it was necessary, and will tell others about me being a vampony eventually. Right after the murders thing was over. For sure. Right? Right.

Am I a violent beast that runs around mangling ponies and tearing them into pieces? Why, that’s absurd! I did attack Pinkie in quite a violent way, but that was only because she’s a vampony! While, technically, I am one too, I am nothing like her.

Am I a blood-sucking monstrosity? I never fed on anypony! Except Berry Punch, who I murdered... But that was just that one time...

The pendulum of the ancient, dust covered clock in the corner of the room slowly finished it’s trajectory with a click before continuing it’s never ending journey in the opposite direction. Rarity slowly turned her head to the side and laid her gaze on Pinkie Pie.

I am not like her.

She then buried her head into the pillow, listening to the methodical ticking of the clock and to Pinkie’s occasional snore.

Slowly, as if by spell, her head turned, inch by inch, back to Pinkie Pie. Her eyes passed the metal bed frame and the snow-white, thrice-cursed linen sheets, and landed upon pink fur.

We are completely different. Killing Berry was an... I never... I couldn’t have known...

Pinkie’s innocent, tranquil face held a soft smile – perhaps a dream or memory of a happier time.

Did I ever actually see her do anything wrong?

A strange, tingling sensation in her eyes forced her to rub them with her hooves. They were wet.

Oh Pinkie, what have I done?

She looked at her with tears flowing out of her eyes like water from a broken dam. In a voice that was barely audible, she said, “Pinkie, I’m sorry.”

———

Pinkie Pie woke when it was still dark – a perfect time to leave unnoticed. While Rarity might have been surprised when she realised there was yet another vampony, it was nothing compared to Pinkie’s astonishment. In just a few minutes, her friend turned into a vampony, beat her up, and then told her that there is yet another vampony running around unchecked. For Pinkie, however, it meant that she didn’t kill her friends after all! Or maybe she did and this new vampony only killed Cherry Berry, but it was better to hope for the nicer version.

Rarity being a vampony, however... That was bad. Really, really bad. Whenever Pinkie imagined meeting another vampony, it was always pleasing – finally a meeting with somepony who understood her, who knew what it’s like to hide a secret from everypony. Rarity smashed that illusion into pieces. She’d be hated by ponies and vamponies should her nature be revealed.

Speaking of hate, Rarity already hated her, and so Pinkie hated Rarity. It was quite shocking to see your friend attacking you, intent on killing you. What was Rarity thinking? Even when Pinkie thought she’d killed somepony, she still didn’t think she deserved death! Not until the very end, at least, when she thought so after lying to her friend. If she knew what that ‘friend’ had in store for her, she wouldn’t have cared so much.

How could Rarity have done something like that? She was a friend! Friends don’t hurt each other like that. She didn’t even bother to ask, to hear the other side of the story. She just jumped to conclusions and eagerly attacked – it was like she wanted an excuse to start a brawl. It was especially surprising to see Rarity, of all ponies, like that. She was always so prim and proper, never doing anything like that. Turning into a vampony changed her to the worse, it seemed.

And she’d lied to her too, Pinkie realised. Rarity never told her that she was a vampony, so she had no right to be so angry. She didn’t even apologise! Did changing into a vampony really change her so much, or was she always like that? Maybe she just spared Pinkie since they were friends up until now, but acted like a spoiled, arrogant priss to everypony else. Maybe Pinkie only got the ‘regular’ treatment. Rarity was just one big meanie! How could they’ve ever been friends?

But... they did have fun. Many times. She was always the one who complained the most during every picnic they made, but she was usually also the one who brought the food. And Pinkie never heard about anypony complaining that Rarity treated him badly. On the contrary, ponies usually praised her for her obligingness at the boutique. Then again, she never heard about Rarity beating somepony black and blue either.

And they way she lied to the Cakes – she didn’t even bat an eye. Such blatant and obvious lies; nopony would have believed it under normal circumstances. She, however, told it so persuasively, so calmly that if Pinkie didn’t know better, she’d probably have believed it too. If she could lie to Cakes, she could lie to Pinkie. How often did she do that? Did she lie once a year, or once a day? One needs a lot of practice to be so good at it.

Pinkie slid out of her covers and slowly tip-toed towards the door. If the doctor saw how quickly she healed, he would inevitably put two and two together. This way, he’ll dismiss it as the escape of overconfident patient, who thinks she can get better on her own. He had bigger problems on his hooves, after all – autopsies consume time. And even if the Guard decided to waste its men on searching for her, she could always hide and wait until they lost interest.

She gave Rarity one last look. Have fun explaining your miraculous recovery to them! I’m sure you can lie your way out of it.

She was already reaching for the door handle when she heard Rarity’s soft breath. She couldn’t resist looking at her again, watching how peacefully and innocently she slept. Lying to the Cakes was one thing, but lying to guards who spent their entire lives separating the truth from the lie was another. Did she really deserve to be caught and executed? And wouldn’t they then realise that Pinkie was a vampony too? It was better to just wake her up.

Pinkie sneaked back to Rarity’s bed and shook with her. “Rarity, wake up! We have to go,” she whispered.

“Ungh... What?”

“Get out of the bed and go!”

Rarity rubbed her eyes with her hooves. “Why?”

“I don’t have time for this. Go or die, your choice,” Pinkie said, and quickly moved towards the door. She’ll be fine. She silently opened the door and moved through the dark, desolate corridors. She remembered where the back entrance was, but also that there was always a guard on duty – maybe more after the night when the killer murdered one. Oh how great it felt to know that it wasn’t her doing, but somepony else’s!

She approached the back door. There were two guards on the other side of them, judging from the chat. “...is dead,” one of the guards said.

“Meh, I never liked him anyway. I just hope the killer goes for Greenleaf next, I can’t stand that idiot! Did you hear that a-hole aims to be the next Sergeant?”

She couldn’t knock out two guards, not in her state – while her wounds healed, she still felt weak and sore. But if she couldn’t escape this way, then how? The windows on the ground floor had iron bars in them and going upstairs was risky – many ponies still worked in the offices there even at this time of the night.

The front entrance seemed to be the only option. Sure, it was bathing in light from the many lamps there, but the only pony guarding it was the reception clerk, who was, knowing reception clerks, already half asleep from boredom. The armoury was on the same floor and, while it was supposed to be guarded, what kind of guard would guard a room full of rusty old weapons when there’s a game of poker next door? She could easily snatch a uniform from there and walk past the reception without the clerk giving her as much as a look.

Pinkie walked towards the armoury, the approaching dawn quickening her pace. She quietly crept past the door from which sounded things like “Check,” “Fold,” or “Raise,” and entered the unguarded room.

The weapons inside evoked pity for those that relied on them rather than fear, and the uniforms stored inside wouldn’t survive Rarity’s inspection should it ever occur. They, however, were enough to serve their purpose. Pinkie chose the uniform with a black cape and hood – the clothes of a courier. She then headed towards the front entrance, confident that her disguise is perfect.

“Pinkie?” said a hushed voice. “What are you doing? And why are you wearing those dreadful clothes?”

“I’m escaping, duh! You should too, unless you want to be the target of some pretty unpleasant questions. Now go find your own means of escape!”

She left Rarity behind her. She’ll find some way. The front entrance was right in front of her and, sure enough, the receptionist looked like he hadn’t slept for a week. Maybe I didn’t even have to bother with the disguise. I doubt he’ll even notice me walking past him! She turned around to tell Rarity that she can come this way too, but she was already gone. Her problem. Not mine.

Pinkie walked through the door into the dawn outside, breathing in the fresh morning air. After she turned the nearest corner, she ditched the uniform and trotted straight for the bakery, making explanations for how she got well so soon on the way. If the Cakes believed Rarity, they’d believe her too.

———

The morning light fell upon wet stains on the walls created by bottles of whiskey that were thrown there in anger. Scisco stayed awake the whole night trying to figure out his next steps, but the results just didn’t come. He discarded the idea of searching for more evidence – if they keep finding one piece of evidence per several murders like they did up until now, Ponyville will soon become a ghost town. Wandering aimlessly through the town asking the locals questions was out of the picture too, as it would be like asking the vampony to attack him. While being attacked would definitely create an opportunity to catch the killer, Scisco feared that the murderer could visit him at night while he was asleep, rather than in the middle of the day when he was being guarded.

Greenleaf had an idea too: ask the Princesses for help. Knowing Celestia and her forbidden-magic paranoia, she would probably burn the whole town down if it meant catching the vampony. Greenleaf would in all likeliness become the next Sergeant for contacting her – an ideal solution for Greenleaf, a terrible solution for Scisco. And the townsfolk, of course. Calling for help would be humiliating and mean that he failed! Other detectives would mock him: “Look, it’s the guy because of whom a whole town was burned down. What an incompetent loser! He doesn’t deserve to call himself a detective, the fool.” He’d be a laughing stock!

As sour as the idea was, however, it still seemed to be the only option left. Things were already getting out of hoof – the murdered Sergeant being a clear indication – and the vampony threatened to create a national crisis. If it chose to create its own little army of vampony minions then... better not to think about it. Scisco would rather be remembered as an incompetent loser because of whom a town was burnt down, than an idiotic retard who sparked a civil war.

Four more days without success, and I’m contacting the Princesses. Scisco stood up from the corner where he ended up after his last drunken depression, and looked at his package of ‘the invigorator’. He used it heavily during the night and now only a sad, little lump of it remained. Two doses at most. It will have to do. I doubt I’ll get any more of the stuff from that old geezer in the infirmary.

He ate half the remaining red paste and walked outside – Greenleaf was undoubtedly expecting him. Scisco wondered whether Greenleaf really threw a party like he suggested: it would be deeply inappropriate, but the fool could have understood the joke as an order. If I find you partying, I’ll strangle you myself!

Fortunately, the barracks didn’t bear any traces of recent celebrations. Scisco found Greenleaf sitting behind the late Sergeant’s desk, the room being cleaned and the window repaired. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Corporal. They couldn’t have named you a Sergeant already!”

Greenleaf didn’t even look surprised at seeing him. He just lifted his head, smiled, and looked back at the papers on the table. “No, sir. I am still a Corporal, sir. I was only put in charge for the moment.”

“Really? I find it hard to believe that Loyalshiled would give you command so easily.”

“He said that his assignment is the bearers of Elements, and that the current crisis doesn’t concern them, sir. He said that he’s not going to clean the mess after us, sir.”

I can’t say I blame him. Who in the world would want to be the person in charge, the one responsible, when Princess Celestia arrives?

“Well, congratulations, Corporal. Any news?”

“Yes, sir. I’m looking at the reports right now – apparently, the killer went on a rampage yesterday. The dead are: Lemon Hearts, Minuette, Lemony Gem, Crescent Moon, and Ballad. There was a reported attack of the killer, but there were only two ponies injured and the way the attack was carried didn’t indicate our vampony, so I put the case on hold. Also, the local magnate, Filthy Rich, is reported missing. I know you told me not to bother you with missing ponies as they are likely just hiding from the killer, but this time his family paid a large sum of bits to round up some ponies, and says that unless the Guard finds Mr. Rich, they’ll break into every house in Ponyville and search it from the roof to cellar until they find him.”

Scisco leaned against the nearest wall, holding head in his hooves. “Five ponies dead. Five! Five in one day! Please, Corporal, tell me you found something. Please, I beg you!”

Greenleaf shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, sir, Crescent moon was mutilated like Cherry Berry and Cloudchaser, while the rest was just regularly killed. Maybe it’s important?”

“Since when do we have terms like ‘regularly killed’?” Scisco said, and sighed heavily. “I bet it is important. I’d wager a hundred bits on it. Sadly, I have no idea why is it important. We’ve got five Celestia damned murders, and we don’t know horse shit!” Scisco bucked the wall with his hooves, using such power that it left a hoof-shaped imprint.

Just as quickly as his temper rose, however, it left, and he sunk to the ground. “Corporal, I give up. I can’t crack this case, it’s impossible. I admit my defeat – I can survive not solving a case, but I can’t survive the palace dungeons for not contacting the Princesses. I just want to give this one last shot – all the evidence we gathered must be worth something! I refuse to believe all my effort was for naught. Let’s assemble it all, summon all the witnesses, ask everyone with any kind of information and try to put it all together one last time. If we can’t find the murderer by the end of the day, I’m contacting Princess Celestia to burn this crap-hole town to the ground.”

Greenleaf nodded and walked out of the room, leaving Scisco sitting on the floor with his face buried in his hooves.

———

There was a knock at the boutique’s door. Rarity escaped from the barracks just about an hour ago. It was easy: all you had to do was go to the first storey, look busy and keep a brisk pace, and everypony will just think you belong there. She then jumped out of the window when nopony was looking any made her way home.

She approached the door trembling, contemplating whether or not should she flee out the back – it could be the doctor’s men, after all. Maybe he decided that two run-away patients are important enough to send some guards looking for them. No, that’s plain unlikely. The last I heard, half the garrison left the town while the second half does all it can to keep the town from panicking. I’m sure they wouldn’t waste their men on me... right?

She could hear the beating of her heart when she reached for the door handle, and when she saw a member of the Guard on the other side of them, she thought she was having a heart attack. He was surely there to get her!

“Miss Rarity?”

“Y...Yes?” Rarity said in a voice as thin as a hair.

The stallion scanned her with his eyes, then cleared his throat, and said in a very formal tone, “I am Corporal Greenleaf and am here to ask you if you would please follow me to the barracks.”

“What? Why?”

Greenleaf lifted his brow. “I was told that you did some investigating of your own, so I thought you could be of help now that we try to put everything we know together.”

“Oh so you don’t kn– I mean... Of course I’ll come.” The tension that built in her body
escaped in waves, each one feeling like heaven.

“It is strange, but I have a feeling I saw your name in the report about yesterday’s attack? Shouldn’t you be injured and lying in the infirmary?”

The tension returned and threatened to choke her as her throat constricted. “I got better.”

Another lifted brow. “I see. Is there anything or anypony you think that could help us more? We want to gather every little piece of evidence we can.”

“N– actually, yes,” she said, and smiled. “There is a pony I know that could help you. Would you mind if I fetched her and brought to the barracks alone?”

The guard lowered his head, as if looking at something on the ground, but Rarity saw how he rolled his eyes and grimaced. “Of course you can, as long as you arrive.”

“Well excuse me then. I have to put my mane in order before leaving the house.” Another grimace. Rarity frowned at this display of boorishness and closed the door, heading to the bathroom. She wasn’t sure whether Pinkie will be of any help, but any excuse to see her again was good: Rarity really wanted to make the things between them right again. Also, the Guard might have stumbled upon something important, but with officers as uncouth as this she doubted it.

———

It was painful to lie to the Cakes. When Pinkie knocked at the front door of the bakery, she already had a story prepared: the injuries she had were actually pretty minor and only seemed serious because of the blood. The doctor was so kind that he gave her some medicine and disinfected the wounds, and sent her back home. They seemed sceptical at first, but couldn’t argue with the perfectly healthy hoof that Pinkie presented them with.

Things became dire when Mr. Cake asked her about the explosion. Apparently, a guard visited her room while she was still at the infirmary and couldn’t find any traces of scorched wood or smoke – things typical for an explosion. Rarity! Can’t you make up some more believable lies? In the end, she blamed it on a magical explosion that doesn’t set things on fire. It wasn’t a great excuse, but seemed to diminish the Cakes’ suspicions. Just why would the murderer try to kill them in a completely different way? Still, it wasn’t completely a lie: most of the damage to the room was caused by magic, albeit Rarity’s.

The Cakes had been through her room already, clearing debris and covering the broken windows with sheets to keep the cold out. They even brought a mattress in there so that Pinkie could sleep somewhere.

That only makes me feel worse for lying to them.

Pinkie was already covering herself with a duvet, when she heard a familiar voice from outside. “Pinkie Pie!”

She can’t be serious!

Pinkie removed the sheet from the window and looked down on the street. There, indeed, stood Rarity. “Rarity, what the hay do you think you are doing?” she said in a hushed tone. “You are supposed to lie low for the next week or so!”

“I’m sorry, darling, but we have to go to the barracks.”

Pinkie wasn’t sure she could believe what she just heard. “Wha–? Seriously? We just left that place!”

“I know, but a guard came to my house, saying that they needed us and our knowledge of the matter to solve the case. I figured you’d want to know about the things the Guard managed to find.”

“Knowledge of the case?” Pinkie’s voice jumped up and down like it was on a rollercoaster. “What did you tell them about us?”

“Just that I did some investigating of my own and that you helped me with it. Calm down.”

“You can’t draw attention to us like this! Don’t you understand? We have to blend in and hide. If anypony ever found out then... then they’d all hate us.” Tears burst from Pinkie’s eyes. “Even the Cakes would force me to leave, and... and my daddy wouldn’t even let me near the farm.” Her throat felt like it had a bitter, round dumpling in it that caused her to stammer. “Twilight, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, and all our other friends would chase us out of town. They’d... they’d hunt us like we were animals!” Strong sobs shook her body as she continued. “And if they found us, we’d have to defend ourselves. They’d... they’d give us no other choice. Can you i-imagine how y-you h-h-hurt Twi... Twilight? Can you imagine h-how the Cakes would look at me? How Sweetie Belle would look at you? I can. I saw it in your eyes when I told you! I-if I ever saw that look in their f-faces then... then... then...” She collapsed on the floor, vanishing from Rarity’s view, and hid her head between her knees, her sobs curtailing any attempt at articulated speech as she curled into a little, crying ball.

“Oh, Pinkie...” Rarity said from the street. “I never really thought about it this way. I... Pinkie, Can you hear me, Pinkie? I’m sorry for making you feel like this, but there really is no danger – I know the detective and he seemed quite decent. Although he was far from a gentlecolt, I must say.”

Tears continued to stream through Pinkie’s coat as worse and worse images flashed through her mind. It wasn’t the first time this happened: she had these weak moments every few months or so. That, however, made it no easier. The idea of her friends hating her and of the Cakes hunting her together with the rest of Ponyville was firmly etched in her mind, refusing to leave as frozen icicles pierced her heart and cold snow filled her stomach.

Rarity’s voice rose up from the street once more. “Pinkie Pie, I’m really sorry for what happened yesterday. I know that what I did was... unforgivable, but please? Please come back to the window, Pinkie.”

Did she really just apologise to me? That’s so great!

Pinkie jumped up from the floor and rushed to the window, her eyes alive once again. But when she looked down at Rarity, her enthusiasm began to dissipate.

But... I shouldn’t listen to her, she’s just lying again. Why would she need me? Why would anypony need me? I’m useless, stupid monster that can’t even help its friends when they are being hunted by a creature of the same kind!

Rarity’s voice trembled. “Pinkie, I... You have to pull yourself together no matter how sad or hurt you feel. Nopony else in Ponyville knows more about vamponies than us two, and if we find out what the Royal Guard know, then the murderer doesn’t have a chance to hide any longer. Please, Pinkie, your friends need you to help us. I need you to help me.”

“Pinkie, I know that we didn’t always exactly see eye to eye, but now I know that there is a very intelligent pony hiding behind the silly facade. I now appeal on that pony – if you can’t do this for me, do it for our friends. The killer threatens them just as much as us; maybe even more. Please, Pinkie, I know that deep down you know that it is the right thing to do, no matter how scared you are. It’s just a walk to the barracks – our friends are more than worthy of one short stroll. Just... come down and I promise that should anything happen, should anything go wrong, I won’t leave you to face the danger alone. Even should the whole barracks go after us, I’ll make sure you get away safely.”

Pinkie slowly stood up and looked out of the window. Right under it, on the street, stood Rarity, her eyes looking right at her with burning determination. If this was drama, then her acting improved considerably during the last few days. “Rarity... you always had your way with the words. I... I think I’ll help you. But don’t you dare ever hurting me again! You know I can’t stand meanies.”

Rarity smiled and nodded. Pinkie jumped her way down to the street and set out for the barracks together with Rarity. The Cakes will probably wonder where she had gone, but she already had excuses like ‘I needed more medicine from the doctor – my leg started to hurt again’ prepared.

———

“What the hay, Corporal?” Scisco asked, pointing at the table around which the summoned ponies assembled. “Two ponies? Are you suggesting that all our witnesses are these few?”

“They aren’t really witnesses...”

“And where are the ponies I told you to find? I see the mare from the boutique, but where is the rest? Where is that cross-eyed retard I told you to find? And where is Bonbon, our main witness?”

“Well, sir,” Greenleaf replied, standing at attention and looking somewhere above Scisco’s head, “Derpy Hooves, the cross-eyed pegasus, moved to Cloudsdale. I didn’t dare to send any of my men there, because, knowing them, they’d probably just stay there and wait until the whole case is solved. And Bonbon... I couldn’t find Bonbon no matter where I looked. Nopony answered the doorbell and the neighbours said that they didn’t see her in the last few days. I’m almost certain that she either left the town or is in hiding somewhere. It’s what any pony with sense would do in times like this.”

“How wonderful, Corporal,” Scisco said and slowly clapped. “I can’t imagine anypony else doing a better job – I mean I gave you three names and you brought in one of them? It’s not like we are in the middle of a crisis or anything! If I can’t find somepony, then it only means that I didn’t search enough! But telling this to somepony like you is a waste of time anyway, isn’t it? I can’t believe it – two ponies...”

“Actually, sir, there is one more pony on the way. She seems to be a little late...”

At that moment, a purple blur stormed into the room. The mare then loudly gasped for air, and between the wheezes said, “Oh my gosh please tell me I’m not late!”

Scisco could burn a hole into a safe with the stare he used on the mare. “Whoever you are, you are either late or in the wrong room, both of which scream of incompetence.”

“Incompetence? But I...”

“That’s Twilight Sparkle, sir. She might know something about the ritual the vampony performs.”

“I see,” Scisco said, and turned his murderous gaze from the mare onto the Corporal. “And why didn’t you tell me about such a pony before?”

“I... err... um... forgot?” Greenleaf’s smile was faker than the guarantees of a door-to-door vendor.

“The word I need in order to describe just how disgusted I am hasn’t yet been invented,” Scisco said. “Just think how vast my disapproval must be when there isn’t even a word for it, will you? Now.” Scisco shifted his gaze back on the mare, who managed to put as much distance as the room allowed between them. “How do you know so much about this?”

“I’m Princess Celestias’s personal protégé,” she said, avoiding Scisco’s eyes, “so I naturally know a lot about magic.”

“Fine,” he said, before turning back towards the Corporal. “And who is that last pony?”

“Oh, her. The mare you told me to find insisted on bringing her along, saying that she might help.”

“I see. Now let’s start with the whole ‘assembling evidence’ thing.”

Scisco ate the rest of ‘the invigorator’ and walked together with the rest into the room. It had a large table, several chairs, and a large mirror in it, but was otherwise bland – the interrogation room. “Twilight?” two voices said in unison.

“Pinkie Pie? Rarity? What are you two doing here?”

“What are you doing here, Darling? We are both here because we are acquainted with the case. Surely you couldn’t have gotten involved in this ghastly thing?”

“Please,” Pinkie Pie said, looking at her with widened eyes, “tell me that you didn’t. You could get injured or... or worse!”

Twilight sat to the table, looking at them with her brow furrowed. “And you think that you can’t? I think that with my magic I’m more capable to handle this than you two are. Especially you, Pinkie Pie; how do you have anything to do with this mess?”

Pinkie and Rarity looked at each other, biting their lips with an occasional giggle escaping. Scisco and Greenleaf looked at them with their brow lifted, exchanging glances.

Scisco cleared his throat. “Since it seems like you know each other, I believe there is no need for introductions. Except for the mare you call ‘Pinkie’. I have no idea who that is.”

“Oh, she’s our vampony expert, of course,” Rarity quickly said.

“She is?” Twilight said, looking at Pinkie with lifted brow.

“I am?”

“Yes. I believe that there is nopony else with more knowledge on the subject than she is.”

“I disapprove with how open you are about our vampony situation,” Scisco said. “Things are already bad enough without telling everypony that the rumours about vamponies are true.”

“Wait, they are?” Twilight asked. “Don’t tell me you actually believe that nonsense, because that’s just ridiculous!”

“I’d say the same thing, if I hadn’t attacked by one! Just cope with the new information or you’re useless to us. Now.” Scisco quickly looked at each of them. “This right here are the crime scene photos. We only found out that some of the bodies were used for some ritual, and that they were murdered by a vampony. If any of you can find anything else, we’d be eternally grateful.”

He hoofed out the photos to each of them, the ones from this morning causing quite a few gasps. “Yes, I know some of them might be quite surprising, but please concentrate on the task given.” They each carefully examined each of the pictures before giving them back to him.

“Well,” Twilight started, “each of those horribly disfigured bodies was used for a ritual. Every time the same one, the innards all follow the same pattern.”

“That’s not really helpful...”

“Well, no, but it means we can narrow the search down to unicorns, as they are the only ponies capable of using magic. And believe me, you need a lot of magic to perform something like this.”

“Narrowing down the suspects,” Scisco said, stroking his chin. “That reminds me – Corporal, did you check the presence list?”

“Yes, sir. There were only a few guards missing at the time, and they were all sighted at various pubs at the time of the crime, drowning their fears and boredom in liquor. I doubt any of them would be able to even stand up, much less attack you. Most of them have quit their job and moved to a different town anyway.”

“Good. That means that that we are searching for a unicorn that is not in the Guard. Assuming that only vampony unicorns can use magic, of course. What if an earth vampony can use magic too? I wouldn’t even be surprised at this point.”

Pinkie shook her head. “They can’t, the only vampony capable of using magic is a unicorn one. They don’t have a horn to cast spells, after all. Thinking that being a vampony gives you strange scary powers that defy nature is just silly!”

“Right... any more ideas?”

“Well we have the yellow hair,” Rarity said.

“What yellow hair?” Twilight asked, eyeing Rarity with a raised eyebrow and a slight tilt of her head.

Scisco scowled at her. “We have a yellow hair that belongs to the killer’s coat. Learn to cope with new information, damn it!”

“Umm... sir?”

“Yes, Corporal?”

“I think we can narrow things down even more. After the first few murders, word spread about fishy things going on in Ponyville, and travellers stopped visiting the town. The ones that were already here all left during the last few days, so the murderer is definitely a local.”

“Great! More ideas, come on! We are getting close!”

“I don’t think that a vampony would make public appearances too often,” Pinkie said. “I mean if I were a vampony, I wouldn’t go prancing around the town, attracting attention to myself.”

Scisco scratched his head. “A valid point, but since there is no way to tell a vampony from a pony, it does not prove anything. The vampony probably knows that we can’t find it, so it can do whatever it damn pleases. It could be the Celestia damned mayor and we wouldn’t know!”

“We should probably scratch the dead ponies from our suspect list...” Greenleaf said.

“You mean you already haven’t? Do I really have to tell you everything, Corporal? Seriously, I think I already got used to your stupidity, but...”

“Wait,” Twilight said. “A unicorn townspony with yellow in the coat that wasn’t in any public place on the night of the attack? If we scratch the dead ponies from this morning and take the ponies from other towns like Flim or Flam out of consideration then... Oh my gosh... There is only one pony in Ponyville fitting that description.”