Early, EARLY Preview for the next Looking Glass, P.I Story · 10:19pm May 14th, 2012
The old warehouse was cordoned off with yellow tape. Red and blue lights from half a dozen police wagons swept across its face, illuminating bits of broken glass and rotted-away boards as they danced across the walls inside. Moonlight pierced a hole in the ceiling, shining all the way down to bottom floor and the motionless body that lay upon it.
I felt my stomach churning. This couldn't be happening again.
"Glass?"
I turned to find a flame-colored stallion in a blue uniform looking at me with unease. I swallowed back my nausea and nodded at him.
"Chase...Celestia's teats..."
"Yeah."
The big cop stepped up next to me, looking down at the victim with heavy eyes. "Sorry to wake you up, Glass. Thought you might want to know."
All I could do was stare at her. She was very young, probably not ten years old. She'd been wearing a cute little red bow in her mane. It went well with her eyes.
The foal been filleted by three long gashes running down her stomach. Her intestines had been ripped out and torn apart. Something had dug inside her for the juciest bits, and scraps of bloody meat were sprinkled over the dusty floor.
Not again.
"There's more," Chase said, putting a hoof on my shoulder. I tried to shrug him off; I didn't want to see any more. But he was insistent, pulling me away from the butchered foal and towards a darkened wall. I peered at it, unable to make anything out of it until a red police light flashed across it.
A word was painted there in the filly's blood: Glass.
I couldn't help it. I got out of there as fast as I could, and then I emptied my guts. Chase trotted up behind me, his voice quiet. "You okay?"
I shook my head. "Water?"
He grunted and called one of his colleagues. We stood there silently for a small eternity, the acrid taste of vomit stinging my mouth. Finally, hooves approached, and I looked up to find another cop, this one a filly with a tan coat, pink mane, and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, carrying a tray with a couple cups of coffee. She placed it down in front of me, and gave me a carefully neutral look.
"Cammy," I said as I knelt down to take a sip of the steaming joe. It wasn't water, but it would do. "What are you doing here?"
"This is my beat."
I quirked an eyebrow. "Since when?"
"Since she got a taste for action," Chase said with a low chuckle. "Ever since she led that raid on Crown Jewel's place, she's been itching for a fight."
She shrugged. "It's kind of addicting, busting heads. I can see why you colts like it so much."
I offered her as much of a grin as I could muster and returned to my coffee. Cammy and Chase began making idle small talk, pointedly avoiding looking towards the crime scene. I didn't join in; I couldn't tear my mind away from what I'd seen.
It was happening again. And whoever was doing this wasn't just killing for the hell of it, they were sending a message.
It couldn't be the same guy. He was dead.
Right?
"Looky?" Cammy asked, startling me out of my thoughts. "Did you hear me?"
"Huh? Oh, sorry. Just...thinking."
She looked at me with obvious concern. I did my best to ignore it. "I asked what you thought. Copycat killer?"
"Yeah. Has to be."
"Looky..."
I shook my head. "I'm fine."
"Glass, you should probably come down to the station with me," Chase said, stepping between us. "This was a message for you, specifically. Whoever this pony is, he's obviously got it in for you."
"Not pony," I said, shaking my head. "Griffon."
Red bow...
You know, I almost described her as having a tan coat, too, before I realized I was about to murder Applebloom.
Maybe I'll change the kid to a white unicorn with purple and pink hair. That's fine, right?
116406
Sure. I mean, you can't murder a robot.
125987
Oh come on, we all know that Rarity's the robot.
126027
WARNING: Status as ordinary biological life-form questioned. Urgency Level: CRITICAL
I don't know what you're talking about.
Init module.rebuttal(1):