//------------------------------//
// Chapter 1: "a regular Keyser Poneh" 
// Story: memoirs of a private detective: volume 1 
// by Inkwell_the_writer_horse 
//------------------------------//

My hooves were strung up with thick, tight rope to a rusted water pipe above my head. I hung my head low to reserve my strength, if I ever made it out of here I'd need it. The only thing I could see was my own body, my grey coat scruffy and matted with blood, it didn't matter to me whose blood it was anymore. Blood and sweat ran off of my muzzle, but no tears, never tears. Tears were a sign of weakness, and their was no time for weakness when you're getting  worked over by the Equestrian mafias best hit pony.

"You been a real pain in my flank, ya know that?"

The thick Manehattan accent boomed through the dark, empty warehouse. no one knew his real name, or even if he existed, he was a regular Keyser Poneh, a fairytale mobsters told their kids to keep them in line. I had a hard time believing he really existed myself, but the cuts and bruises that covered my body where more than a wake up pinch, this wasn't a nightmare, there was no princess Luna coming to wake me up, this was reality, this was real life and it was finally catching up to me.

"sorry 'bout the goon squad, the ameteurs only roughed ya up a little, lemme fix that."

The white unicorns horn began to glow and I felt my ribs crushed into tiny pieces one by one. I've been hurt before but not like this, I could feel what was left of my ribs poke and prod at my internal organs, I vomitted and choked out my own blood before letting out a scream of anguish.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Heh, you think that's bad, wait 'til ya get a load a' this."

He reached over for a tool bag and began emptying it onto a small surgeons tray, lining up each one of his tools with a demented smile. The final tool was a small hoofgun, my hoofgun.

"Whaddya say we have a little target practice?"

He struck a pose, aiming my own gun at me.

"Ya shoot me, you better not FUCKING. MISS." I grunted out the first thing that came to mind, some stupid one liner from an old cop movie, it was a bad idea.

"heh heh heh." He reached for a claw hammer and swung at me. "SHUT IT!"

I felt the full force of the hit, skin and fur torn from my cheek, teeth loosened.

"NOT SO TOUGH NOW ARE YA? FUCKING ACTION MOVIE COP, MOTHER FUCKER!" 

He swung fast and furiously, his shining, perfectly filed hooves damn near cracking my skull. At ths point death was the best thing I could ask for, I was twitching in pain and he showed no sign of letting up. He pressed the gun into my temple

"DO YOU WANNA DIE? 'CAUSE I WILL BLOW YOUR DAMN BRAINS ACROSS THIS WALL!"

I peered up at him and looked into his eyes, he was serious, if he had his way I'd probably be six feet under by now, or, more likely, still be rotting in that damned warehouse, an old forgotten corpse, so I don't know why I said what I said to him.

"Do. It"

He pushed the gun off my temple and turned around, I thought he was just going to change his shot, shoot me from a distace to make sure their was no splash back, but what he did instead was worse. He began laughing maniacally.

"HAHA, YOU REALLY DO HAVE A DEATHWISH DON'T YOU? HAHA"

I didn't know what to do anymore, I joined him.

"Like you NNGG wouldn't believe, pal."
He'd finished laughing, I don't know if its what I said or his short temper, but his demeanor quickly changed.

"You're funny, arent you? TELL ME ANOTHER JOKE, FUNNY PONY!"

I briefly questioned wether to tell the joke or not, I thought wether it would be quicker to die there and then or try and wait till I bled out. It didn't matter too much now, anyway my immediate death was all but assured.

"O-kay, an earth pony, a unicorn and a zebra walk into a bar..."

I lowered my head to spare myself his reaction, which was guarannteed to be a negative one.

"I think I know how this one goes."

My smart-ass attitude refused to die, we both did.

"Good, because I don't"

He gave me a look of pure hatred, like I just insulted him on a deeply peronal level

"That wasn't very funny."

"You want a comedian, go talk to your boss, he's pretty funny."

The fire in his eyes began to burn, hotter and hotter.

"with that thick, funny little accent."

Hotter, and hotter.

"And his stubby little legs."

Hotter and hotter.

"AND THOSE THICK GLASSES, AND THOSE LIVER SPOTS!"

He picked up a lead pipe and began to swing. I winced, expecting to feel the full force of the giant stallions swing, but nothing. When I looked up he was on the floor, a well place sniper shot in his back, the lead pipe behind me, having been thrown in the air and sending the light fixture above my head back and forth. 

The light shone, barely revealing the cat walk above me, and atop it, a strangley familiar mare holding a rifle. I don't think she saw me see her, but she must have been on my side, gunning down Equestrias most notorious serial killers is one thing, but when she freed me with a perfectly ricochet'd shot, from the wall through both ends of the rope that kept me suspended an inch above the ground, I know she wasn't some rival mafioso or a vindictive vigilante trying to bring down this criminal empire we both found ourselves in the middle of, she was some kind of angel.