Prologue: The First Stirrings
POLICE REPORT(Personal Account): Hotel Coltifornia, 7:12 PM, 12 Marech, 3 L.R.(Luna's Return)
I stood outside the hotel, my teammate Red Rose next to me. We had been called there by the owner about a drug dealer, who had been seen bringing several kilograms of clover and rage into Room 11, and was overheard planning a deal for that night, which Rose Red and I had every intention of ruining. We walked up to the door, and stared at each other, nodding to show our readiness, then knocking on the door, going through standard procedure.
"Canterlot Police Force, open up!" To our surprise, the door swung open, and the drug dealer stepped out, smiling in welcome, his eyes rimmed with red from not following the age-old rule of not sampling your own merchandise.
"Iss about time yous got here..." He said, obviously mistaking us for his buyers. "I gotsh yer protecshion money, offishers..." ...Guess not. Even blazed out of his mind, he knew a... Wait, did he say protection money?
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Mint Breeze walked away from the corpse of the pony dangling from the ceiling fan by it's neck, looking at his coat to make sure no blood had gotten on it. A few flecks had landed on his legs, but it seemed the gloves had done their job and kept most of it off. Good thing, too, he so hated having to wash out any impurities from his fur. He turned around to get a good look at the art he had created. The room was spattered with gore, the pony's blood dripping out like so much ink onto the Ponisian carpet... Such a waste of a good rug. He'd wanted to keep the rug for himself, but the pony had given him no choice, treating him like a lesser thing, when he had been the one stooping so low as to invite him over to make amends!
Mint took a deep breath, knowing it would have probably ended up the same regardless. As much of a shame it was to waste such a beautiful piece of art, he knew that at least it didn't belong to that swine of a pony anymore, no offense to any pigs. He gingerly stepped over the pony's head, and quickly made his exit from the former officer's house.
"The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the pony mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of the infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far."
-Elder Rich, author of Call of Cutethulu
"There was always something about that pony... Like he had seen everything the world had to offer, and was disgusted by it."
-Soy Green, Mint Breeze's only known relative
POLICE REPORT(Personal account): Hotel Coltifornia, 7:20 PM, 12 Marech, 3 L.R.(Luna's Return)
Officer Red Rose and I had no idea what we were supposed to do in this situation. This pusher probably had enough drugs in the room to make Celestia question who was the highest in the kingdom, and had not only let two members of the Canterlot Police Force in, but made us both a hot cocoa/coffee blend while we were taking count of how much of each type of drug was in the place. I will admit, it wasn't too bad, I even detected a hint of raspberry in there.
"Sho, offishers," the stallion said, and it was only at this point that I saw his cutie mark in the haze of the room, a medical cross with syringes and blunts in alternating corners, which made me shiver in slight disgust, considering most ponies had their cutie mark by the time they were out of school. I myself had been one of the latest bloomers in Canterlot, a blank flank until I was already a Royal Guard, but that's not a part of the current events. "Ash you can shee, everythingsh in order... All I need ish a few more daysh before I can shell it all. You'll be gettin' yer fifty pershent like ushual... And I keep shelling my " As he smiled at us, I saw why he sounded drunk rather than high- half his teeth had either been rotted out or kicked in, and neither option seemed altogether pleasant to think about.
He then raised his mug of cocoffee to us, and just as he started to drink, I saw something land in the mug, making a small splash as it did so. If he hadn't already looked strung out of his mind, I'd have thought it to be more drugs. There were two problems with that logic, though. One of them was that if he was going to drug his, he would have done so when he was making it. The other problem was that he was an Earth pony, and had done absolutely nothing else that I could see that would have dropped in. Just before I could say anything, however, he downed the whole thing in one go, putting the mug down and coughing as he did so. At first, I thought it had just gone down the wrong pipe, but that went right out once blood started coming up. Three seconds later, we had a dead druggie in the room. I picked up the mug he had been drinking from, and took a deep whiff. Coffee, cocoa, raspberry... and bitter almond. Somepony had wanted somepony in this room dead, and they'd done it, by Celestia.
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Mint Breeze walked through the streets of Canterlot under Luna's beautiful moon, without a cloud in the sky to hide his most recent art, which was currently drowning in its own blood. As he walked back to the apartment he was currently inhabiting, something bumped into his leg, and he looked down. A young filly, not more than two or three years old, had bumped into him, apparently lost. When it tilted its head to him, he saw why: it's eyes were a cloudy blue, an indication of blindness. Mint Breeze stroked its mane, smiled, baring all his teeth... And then sent her on her way home with a doughnut he'd bought her from Pony Joe's. With her safely tucked in bed, and the parents reassured, Mint Breeze walked out of the house, and straight into a Canterlot Royal Guard.
"Sir, did you happen to see a blind, young filly run past here, by chance?" the guard asked, its eyes not even LOOKING at Mint, not even delivering to him the respect of LIVING. Mint smiled again, and this time, with the guard capable of sight, it was spared no expense of the manical eyes behind it.
"Why, yes, Officer, she just ran that way-" Mint Breeze responded, pointing with his hoof towards an alley, and as it looked along the path of Mint's hoof, he swung forward with his other one, striking the guard square in the jaw. Mint knew his horseshoes weren't thick enough for his kick to do more than stun, so he dove in for the kill, digging the jugular out with his teeth, the sharp bite easily tearing through his art's neck, leaving a beautiful crimson puddle underneath. His art now had six seconds to live, judging on where he'd bit it... Five... It was gasping out now, its lungs only filling with blood. Four... Its eyes were rolling, and it was frothing at the mouth, he always hated when they did that... Three... It was barely clinging on to life now, in the hope of the miracle that would save its life... Two... It was as good as dead, barely twitching, a mess on the street...
ONE.
"Join her." Mint said quietly, and the art formerly known as the Guard's spirit relinquished itself. Done with his work, he stepped back into the street, trying to remember which way led back to the apartment...