//------------------------------//
// Day of Reckoning 
// Story: Murder in Ponyville 
// by Roobles 
//------------------------------//

My desperation was growing.

The killer was on the loose.  I was on the run.  And I was all out of leads.

I found myself in a Ponyville alley, cowering behind some broken boxes while I tried to gather up the pieces of my mind.  I couldn't go home.  For all I knew it was swarming with the guard, and I wasn't about to test my luck.  I tried to think of any friend I could contact, anypony that could help me.   But I was never very good at making friends, and I just lost the only one I ever trusted.

The sun was setting, and the sounds of the market were growing dim.   The air was getting colder; I could feel a chill spread throughout my body, slowing it down.   I didn't even know where I was going to sleep that night.

I began to consider skipping town.  I thought I might be able to scape out a living in Las Pegasus, or Mexicolt City.  I might have to beg, borrow, and steal to get there, but things could still work out fine.

I hoped that Pinkie would understand.

So I sat there.  Waiting. 

It's something I'm good at; just clearing my mind and letting the world pass me by.  It's something in my blood.  I knew I would make my move when darkness fell.





I don't know how long I waited, but I was startled by a sound.  A familiar voice that I've heard more times than I ever wanted to.  A voice that belongs to a particular unicorn that bathes herself in lust and vanity.

I snorted, and was about to go back to brooding.  I was pleased to think I might never have to see her again.  But a nagging little thought was scratching at the back of my mind.  A memory from a night on the town, when both my friend and I had a bit too much to drink.  When we were at that honest, trusting stage of intoxication, where you'll bestow your deepest secrets and shames, and never even remember it in the morning.  

That was when he told me about this sharp unicorn he once hooked up with.  This mare with a dazzling purple mane.  They met in Canterlot, and it was practically love at first sight.  Just like it was out of a fucking fairy tale.  She couldn't keep her hooves off of him, and was even playing the over-possessive game.  They made it back to her back to her place, and well.  They got pretty close.  

But a day or two later, and she was a completely different mare.  Wanted nothing to do with him and denied that anything ever happened. 

I felt sorry for my friend.  But more than anything, it made me think of a particular mare I knew.  A fussy white unicorn that takes everything she can until it just doesn't suit her anymore.

A mare named Rarity.

I was already across the alley, peaking my head around the corner.

I could see her walking in the distance, chatting animately to poor Fluttershy.

I couldn't let this go.  Gears were turning, and suddenly a lot of things were making sense.  Rarity is not a mare that likes to keep loose ends, and there's nothing more precious to her than her own reputation.  I don't remember half of what I did last night, but if my friend was telling the same story... and it somehow got back to her...

I don't think he would make it home.

There was a bit of distance to cover, but those two ponies were well occupied.  Even from my vantage point, it was obvious that Rarity was deeply enthralled with the sound of her own voice, and Fluttershy was too polite to show her disinterest.  And aside from those mares, the streets were almost empty.  Ponyville's market isn't exactly known for having a bustling night life, so not much subtly was required.

Though, by the time I closed the gap, I was only catching the second half of the conversation.  From what I could gather, those two were headed to the Carousel Boutique, and Rarity was fully engaged in drowning the poor pegasus with fake gratitude.  Little quips of thank-you's that were as well rehearsed as they were insincere.  Plastic and brittle, like every other vile thing to ever come out of that unicorn.

"I absolutely can't thank you enough, darling.  And I'm terribly sorry to fetch you at such an hour."

"Oh, it's... fine.  I'm glad to help."

"It's just, I came home and saw my precious wittle Opal so terribly ill!  I was positively devastated!"  

"Are you sure it's not a hairball this time?"

"Hairball?!  Why if it's just a hairball, I'll be relieved!  Well.  Relieved so long as Opal doesn't dispose of it in a manner that's unbecoming.  Especially not on the carpet.  Or on my fabric!  Or on my dresses!  Opal!  Mommy's coming!  Don't do anything rash!"

Dresses.  It's all she ever cared about.  At this point Rarity was actually galloping down the road, yelling like a madmare, with Fluttershy depserately trying to keep up.  Funny.  Rarity would stoop to murder to save face, yet she'd so carelessly scrape her own image across the floor.

I couldn't match pace with them.  At least, not if I wanted to remain unknown.  

So I let her go.  

I was thankful, actually, when the noise died down and I had a moment of peace.  It was the best of both worlds.  I didn't have to listen to the venomous spit of that whore, and I didn't have to worry about losing her either.

I knew exactly where she was going.





They were both in front of the boutique when I arrived.

Opal's studded carriage was sitting on the pavement between them, without a sound or movement coming from inside.  I could tell there was something wrong.  Fluttershy was wearing a grave expression, and kept stealing glances at the carrier.  

I guess it wasn't a hairball after all.

Still.  I felt sorry for Opal.  

She might be a raging inferno of hatred and malice, but living with Rarity, given enough time, that would happen to anything.  Opal is a victim.  Lashing out against the world, as a body would ricochet off a hard surface.  A natural, involuntary response to repeated blunt trauma.

I could tell that the conversation was winding down though.  Fluttershy was fidgeting, and edging closer and closer to cat box, all but screaming to take Opal away.  I moved in further, to see if I could catch any of the parting words.  I needed to know Rarity's next move, so I could start planning mine.

"Thank you, thank-you, thaaannk you!  Oh Fluttershy, dear, you do so much for me!"

"Yes, but..."

"No buts!  Time and time again you pull through for me and Opal, never expecting a thing in return!"

"But I really think I should..."

"I'll hear none of it!  You simply must let me find a way to make up for all of your caring generosity!"

"Yes, but Opal isn't..."

"Oh don't you worry on about her, she's in such good hooves now.  What matters more is that you simply must let me make you something!"

"I don't think..."

"Something marvelous!  Something that radiates all of your kindness.  Something with gems!"

"I'm su..."

"Oh I know they're not your cup of tea, but you simply must give them a chance!  Why just last night I cut the biggest rock I've ever held, and you should have seen the way it glistened in the light!  I could always do the same for you or that rabbit you keep about..."

Stop.

Backtrack.  And repeat.  If you're not careful, then you already missed it.

This was everything I ever needed.

I don't actually know what was said after that.  I assume she continued wallowing in her own vanity, as Fluttershy tried ever harder to pick up Opal and leave.  But none of those details mattered to me anymore.

My search was over.  It was Rarity.

I thought I would be angry when I found the pony that murdered my friend.  I thought my blood would boil and my vision would turn red.  I thought I would lose control of my actions and do something I might regret.  

But the truth is, I didn't feel anything at all.  I was empty inside.  I just stared at Rarity, blankly, repeating to myself over and over that this is the mare I was going to kill.





Time passed.  Slowly.

The conversation was over, and Fluttershy was leaving.

And as I watched them slip out of sight, I realized that Opal would never be coming home again.  And I understood, clear as day, that I would never get a chance to explain the reasons why.  I might have been freeing her from the clutches of a wicked mare, but victims sometimes have a way of latching on.

I hoped that one day Opal would understand, and that she may somehow find peace in new life.

But she was gone.  And there was no turning back.

So I picked myself up from the ground, stretched from the neck to legs, and made my way inside.





I had never seen the shop so dark before.  Racks of dresses and mannequin ponies were casting ominous shadows, shades of darkness stacked against an inky backdrop.  And as I walked among the featureless ponies, I could feel them silently judging.  As though they could see right through me, and knew just why I was there.

But my cause is pure; I was driven by a righteous fury.  So I let them look upon me, and hold judgement as they may.  I felt no fear or remorse.  


And I had nothing to hide.


Light was coming from the stairs, and I could hear the gentle sounds of a sewing machine up above.  Say what you'd like about that whore's avarice, she still has the work ethic of nopony else.

But I couldn't confront her in the workshop.  It was her turf, and she had magic, where I did not.  The tools of her trade were also at her disposal; scissors and needles that, with a dextrous spell, could turn the tide.

But her focus would be her undoing.

It gave me time and clearance to move past her workshop, to slip inside her bedroom where I could lie in wait.

Inside her closet, in full view of her bed, where I could lie in wait for the moment to strike.



And this is where I am.



Now we are all on the same page, and what I am about to do has been laid bare.  As Celestia as my witness, my claws will strike true.  I will taste the blood of a wicked mare, and I will know the flavors of retribution.

The sewing machine has long gone quiet.  Rarity has already donned her nightgown, and finished her nightly ritual of vanity.  She is tucked under the covers, and I can hear the soft rhythmic sounds of her slumber.  Quiet, gentle breathes, that she will soon make no more.

I am opening the closet, and I am walking to her bed.

And now, after the longest day of my life, fraught with grief and trial, my moment has come.  Now, I will make Rarity pay for what she did to my friend.

I will put her down, for taking the life of Tom.