Prey and a Lamb

by Lambs Prey

29.2 Life is only ever Moments away from being Not

The door swung silently up on greased hinges, and locked into place by some unseen mechanism. Nothing could be seen down there apart from the first step down, but Prey could hear something in the uninviting blackness. A tiny scratching sound.

Prey took a breath. 'Oh,' He thought as the smell welled up, 'Oh so that's how it is.'

Crimson had gone rigid. He didn't seem to be breathing. The pegasus's jaw moved, but whatever he croaked out was too quiet for even Prey to catch. Prey wasn't looking at Crimson though. His eye's were drawn down. There was a numb tingle in the back of Prey's wool.

'Even here in Canterlot huh?... Somehow I never doubted.'

Gloom had the lantern. Even thestrals couldn't see in total blackness. He took the first step down the hole, his nose wrinkling, '-this is familiar. But what...?-'

"Sir-" Crimson managed to cough out, but by then Gloom had already reached the bottom of the rickety steps and a small sea of reflective little eyes eyes turned to look at him.

"Just rats." Gloom snorted in disgust. Prey went down the steps after him before Crimson could stop him.

"Shoo! Get!" Gloom snapped, raising the lantern high and many fearful squeaks rang out, and the rats scattered to the darkened corners with a skitter of claws.

Gloom sniffed with distaste. He wasn't scared of rats. Then Gloom froze, the light from the lantern washing over the secret cellar. '-...I know that smell-'

"Blood." Prey declared simply.

Prey heard Gloom's breath get stuck in his throat, but it was just background noise really.

Dull, stagnant pools of something almost black were splashed around four twisted objects. 'Four dead bodies. The same ones Lemon Pink saw.' Prey's mind told him, as his eyes flickered over the sickening scene.

The rats had been busy. Prey had seen half eaten corpses before. He'd survived the Deeper Green. And it was just as awful and raw-glistening-shredded-disgusting as the first time.

But that wasn't how the four ponies died. Rats don't kill people, they're just scavengers. Tearing wounds had been clawed across the bodies, and puncture wounds filled with congealed scabs of what'd once been blood. The horrible smell billowed out from the corpses and tried to get into Prey's lungs.

"Sir, there's-Don't! I know this scent-", Came Crimson's voice, half way down the stairs and far too late. It cut off as he too saw the scene for himself.

"Murder." Gloom said, not even seeming to realise the word had slipped out. "Who... who could do this?" In the corners of the cellar, beady little eyes watched the three invaders.

'It never changes,' Prey thought, 'There's always killing.'

He'd known it all along. The war never ends. Canterlot was no exception, all its glitter and gold meant nothing.

"A griffin. Or griffins." Prey said, finally answering Gloom's question.

Gloom jumped and whirled around in horror at hearing Prey's voice.

"What-?! You can't be in here!" He shouted, jumping in front of Prey. "Get out! You can't see this!" He tried to block Prey's view with his wings, the lantern swinging wildly, shadows dancing over the gore.

Prey leapt away from Gloom, "Don't touch me."

"Get out, out out out! You're a child Prey, you can't be seeing this." Gloom attempted to crowd Prey back up the stairs, something, anything to stop Prey from seeing what was behind him.

'-just a lamb, just a foal, he can't be allowed to see. Oh Luna, why did they die? Blood, there's guts, guts on the floor-', Gloom thought desperately.

There was the sound of Crimson's hooves dancing on the steps as he staggered. The pegasus' eyes were tight shut and he was only breathing through his mouth. His mental walls were down, the shock and stress having destroyed Crimson's self control.

'-I wasn't ready, oh the stink, no no, don't be sick, you can do this. You have done this. Stop being so weak. Never get's easier-', He thought with an audible gulp.

Gloom's eyes had jumped to Crimson, freezing up all over again, '-Crimson...He's down here too-'

"Crimson, go back." He ordered.

"I can do this sir, I can do this." Crimson said, voice very faint. His eye's were still squeezed shut as he tried to psyche himself up to opening them again. '-horrible flesh, all exposed, rots going to set in, oh I hate this, fur matted and sticky, I hate this. No, control yourself. Remember your training, I am a stone in a pond-'

"Crimson, go back up. Take Prey and go back up, hear me? We have to report this, get the Captain. Somepony has murdered these ponies."

"Four murders. And somebody. A griffon, or griffons." Prey repeated, voice eerily calm.

Gloom jerked around, to his horror finding Prey standing right in front of one of the mutilated corpses, just outside of the pool of blood. "Get away from there Prey! You don't, I, you don't want to see this."

"Of course I don't want to. But-"

"Prey, get upstairs. Please! This isn't something a foal should ever see." Gloom cut across, almost high pitched. '-oh Luna! I've let a child into a murder scene-'

Prey didn't seem to hear him, his soft blue eyes never leaving the shredded face of the dead unicorn. The horn had been wrenched off, one eye was half glop, the rest eaten by the rats, and the tongue was swollen and protruding.

"Nine, ten hours maybe?" Prey murmured, "The blood has settled in the bottom of the body. Flesh is bruising purple."

Gloom's thoughts went blank as Prey stuck his hoof into the crusted pool of blood.

The lambs face didn't even twitch as he worked his hoof back and forth. "Maybe only eight actually." He said, holding up his hoof to critically examine the sludge stuck to the bottom of it. Crimson's eyes snapped back shut, and his wings started jerking about all on their own.

"Prey-! You! You can't just do that!" Gloom cried, not even able to think of anything else to say.

Prey's eyes snapped back into focus and turned to Gloom, "Why not?"

He looked down at the body, blinking like he couldn't understand something, then back at Gloom, wings still standing frozen at the base of the stairs. "This dead body? Wait, is it because of this? " Prey demanded, rubbing the blood between the cleft in his hooves.

"Don't pretend you've never seen blood before, I know you guys drink this stuff all the time." He said, making Gloom and Crimson gape at him.

"How...?" Was all Gloom could manage in horrified fascination at the scene unfolding before him.

"I'm not stupid. That clan wine? That's blood enchanted in those bottles to look and smell like grape. Really, could you have been any more obvious about it? I know Crimson ate some, drank, consumed, whatever you call it, in the doctor's room that first night. But why does this even matter?"

"It does matter! This isn't-", Gloom dropped the lantern and gripped the sides of his head with his wings, "By the moon, how did it come to this?" He moaned.

"Prey, you don't understa- You can't, don't stick your hoof- you can't tell anypony- This isn't right. Look, don't...Just stop! Okay? Just stop and come away from there." Gloom exclaimed helplessly.

Crimson was staring at Prey too, completely at a loss of how it had come to this or how to stop it. "Prey, you... It isn't right, to do...that." He managed, weakly gesturing to Prey's dirtied hoof.

Prey lowered his hoof. He didn't understand. Not fully.

'I've seen all this before. Why? Why do they care? Why does someone only care now?'

It didn't make sense. Wasn't this what the ISND was also supposed to do? This was part of why Luna had enslaved him, yes? So why were they both so horrified?

His eye's went down to the corpse. It was indeed horrifying. Horrifying and terrifying and sickening and horrible horrible horrible horrible.

A child should not see this. No one should see this. But here he was, seeing it. It wasn't like he wanted to be down here, with rats someone had let loose to eat the evidence. But here they were. Hadn't they realised something like this was always going to happen?

'It was always going to happen. Murder lives forever just like war. So why...?' Prey wondered, staring at Gloom.

Gloom stared right back. Now, out of all times, it occurred to Gloom that Prey smiled a lot. Prey was smiling right now in the lantern light. Just a small smile, like a reflex almost. But for the first time, Gloom saw how it didn't reach his eyes. Not really. Not when he really looked.

Gloom didn't see any emotion in those soft blue orbs. Not horror, not fear, not even shock. What, if anything, Prey was really feeling at that moment was completely opaque.

'-the damage has already been done long before now-', Gloom thought, suddenly feeling tired.

Gloom wished he could just go to sleep, '-why couldn't this all be a bad dream? Princess Luna, wake me up now please. No, I have a duty to do. To Her, to Prey, and to Crimson-'

"Prey," Gloom said calmly, far more calmly than he felt, "We're getting out if here, right now. Go back upstairs."

Meanwhile as he spoke, Gloom's thoughts kept jumping back to the exact same thing, '-four ponies were murdered, they're dead and oh Luna there's bit's everywhere-'

Prey squinted at Gloom's pale face in the shadows of the lantern light, searching the thestral's expression for some clue. But all he saw was what he already knew, not the unknown answer he was looking for. "Okay..." He said slowly, wiping his hoof on an unspattered bit of the floor.

The horrible grainy crust on his hoof brought on the familiar urge to scream and run around until he could find water to wash himself clean. But despite that feeling, he'd still done checked the blood to be sure of the time of death. And Prey was no stranger to feeling like filth.

He started back for the stairs, ignoring the way rats skittered outside the pool of light, acutely aware of his stained hoof every time he brought it down.

And then there was the sound of the door being pushed open in the building above them. Crimson whirled around on the steps, a very impressive move for a quadruple, danger flashing in his and Gloom's thoughts.

'- they've returned-', '-the murderer!-'

"Sargent Gloom? It's dark, are you in here?"

It wasn't the salt dealers, it was Quick Draw and Scenic Paint.

In the face of this horror, both the Royal Guards had been completely forgotten. Now however, their presence only brought relief for a brief moment to Gloom before it was replaced with panic.

"Stay where you are! Don't come any closer!" Gloom bellowed up the stairs.

The hooves above instead of stopping speed up, "We're coming sir."

"Don't come down here!" Gloom shouted again, "Crimson stop them." He ordered.

Crimson flared his wings, blocking the light coming up from the cellar as he barrelled up the stairs even as Scenic called out again "Sir? What's going on, should we-?"

"Back up and don't come down here. This is a murder scene!" Gloom shouted up again. He perhaps shouldn't have added that last bit.

"Murder? Did you say murder? He said murder!" Quick Draw's voice went high pitched.

"Sir, sir-!"

"-Wait up there! We are closing this place and reporting it straight away. Crimson, let us up." Gloom said, shouting over the sounds of panic from the two Royal Guards sounds.

"Murder, they killed somepony! There's, you, but, but I, I, I..." Quick Draw moaned, "I'm going to be sick."

Gloom forced his way past Crimson, then had to stop, "Oh Luna, the rats. We can't leave." He said without thinking.

"Rats? You mean-!"

"-Rats were, were eating..eat....*'huUgggGGHH'* There was the sound of someone throwing up all over the floorboards. Crimson shied in disgust and backed into Gloom, almost making him drop the lantern on Prey who was coming up behind them both, not wanting to get left behind in the dark.

"I need to sit down for a while." Came the faint voice of Scenic Paint.

"Both of you, be quiet and listen to me, that's an order." Gloom growled. He cast a torn glance back at Prey behind him, then turned back, "Quick Draw, can you send- hey, pay attention! Can you send a message via magic?"

"No, no sir. I can't. I'm sorry, I never took, I mean I'm not strong enough for that-"

"Stop rambling. Go stand guard outside the door. Here's what we're going to do. Crimson, you're the fastest. Fly back to the Palace. Tell them what's happened here. Get them to send ponies to close this street off. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Go. You, Scenic Paint... Scenic, are you listening to me?"

"Yes sir." Came the shaky response. Prey realised it had actually been Scenic who'd thrown up.

"Good. Go stand guard with Quick Draw. Can you do that?"

"Yes sir." There was the clop of hooves as Crimson and Scenic hurried out.

Gloom found Prey patiently waiting behind him at the bottom of the stairs, looking up. Gloom wanted to bash own his head against a wall in shame for having forgotten that Prey was behind him in all that panic, '-behind me down there-'

"Come and wait up here Prey, okay?" He asked, voice strained.

Prey look at him, "Yes, sir." He answered simply.

"Good. Come up and don't go anywhere. Scenic and Quick Draw will be just outside if you, if you need anything, okay? I'll be..." Gloom swallowed and visibly steeled himself, "...I'll wait down here with the lantern, and keep the rats off the... Keep the rats away from the evidence." He said.

"There's no need-"

"No Prey! You don't, you just don't get... You shouldn't have to be down there." Gloom sighed. His words felt hollow.

'-a bit late now, isn't it?-'

Prey bobbed his head, "You misunderstood me. You don't have to wait down here alone. There's another exit." Prey pointed to the shadowy far wall. There, set into the cellar stone above the floor, was another door, tightly shut. It'd gone completely missed in the distraction of this grisly horror.

"The rats were sealed down here to eat the evidence on purpose," Prey explained quietly, "You can simply open the door and chase them out. Sir."

Lieutenant Screech came himself as soon as he heard Crimson's message, bringing along every other available Night Guard he could get his hooves on. It was a depressingly small number, only six. The rest had been taken by Nighthawk to go confront the dragon.

This just had to happen today, didn't it?

Screech stepped into the building, yellow eyes quickly casting about and passing over Prey to settle on Gloom. Screech seemed to sigh and quietly went over, "Sargent Gloom. I got the message." He said simply.

Gloom didn't know what to say for a moment. What did one say in these circumstances? "Yes sir."

Screech's eyes flicked to the open trap door. The lantern had been removed and there was no light below, but something invisible seemed to emanate from the hole which whispered what was hidden by the dark down there. Screech didn't go any closer, and his gaze returned to Gloom.

"You did well Sargent. That was all anypony could ask of you under these circumstances." He told Gloom quietly.

"Yes sir. It's...not pretty down there sir. There is... I mean there were rats."

Screech sighed again, not at Gloom or even the news, just at the world in general. "We can- Wait, you said were?"

Gloom nodded, looking and feeling so tired, "Yes sir, were. Prey said, or rather he thinks that the rats were released down there to...", Gloom closed his eyes and breathed, "...To eat the evidence sir."

"Somepony dared to- Prey was..." Screech's pupil's widened, "You sent him down there?"

"No sir of course I didn't! I didn't, we didn't realise in time what was down there, I didn't know-"

"I'm sorry Sargent, please forgive me. I spoke before I thought. "

Gloom bowed his head, "No, I'm sorry sir. I, of course you didn't. I over reacted."

Screech tried to catch Prey's eye, but Prey was staring out the door and purposefully avoiding any such eye contact. '-oh Gloom, things just don't get any easier for you-', Screech thought wearily.

He placed a hoof on Gloom's shoulder plate, "I can take it from here Sargent. We're going to cordon off the house and start more thoroughly questioning the ponies in residence around here. Go back to Palace and write this up. I'm afraid I'm going to need statements from all three of you. We're going to...Well, I'm not to sure. Get somepony here from the morgue and have the bodies removed. Try and get them identified. Check the registry to see if we can find who owns this place."

"Photographs."

Screech and Gloom turned to Prey, "Pardon?"

"Photographs from cameras. Those could be used to create a picture, lots of pictures of what's down there. In case there's any evidence on the bodies before you remove them." He explained.

"Yes. I suppose that might work." Screech said. Camera's were something that'd only recently been invented in Equestria, and not something that would naturally occur to a clan member.

'-but that means we have to put somepony down there to photograph that-', Both of the thestrals thought.

Prey didn't care about any mental scarring some random photographer pony was going to receive. The only reason he even suggest it was because he knew the ISND was going to be thrown this case to solve. Gloom was not going to allow him back down there to investigate, but he was still going to expect Prey to solve this quadruple murder.

'Completely illogical.'

But photographs would alleviate that problem. In theory.

It would also mean he didn't have to go back down the hole with those disfigured corpses. Just because Prey would do whatever was necessary, didn't mean he enjoyed it.

"Prey are you... ready to go?" Gloom asked hesitantly. He didn't know if you were supposed to ask in these circumstances, or just give Prey the order. Gloom's eyes kept getting drawn down to Prey's hoof.

Prey got up and looked to Gloom expectantly, eyes soft, bright and blue, "I'm ready whenever you are, sir."

Gloom turned his head away.

Quick Draw and Scenic Paint had already been sent back ahead of them. Prey doubted they would ever speak with those two particular Royal Guards again. They might even quit. Ponies were not used to violence in any shape or form. As for something as big and terrible as murder, it was almost beyond pony comprehension.

Those two ponies would close up, try and pretend it never happened, and hide from reality. Prey was sure of it.

"Prey."

His name came from Crimson.

Prey looked up from the cobbles passing beneath his hooves to find the red pegasus watching him with an unreadable expression. His mental walls were back in place, but oh-so fragile feeling.

"I...You...Never mind. It doesn't matter, forget it." Crimson said, returning his eyes to staring resolutely ahead.

Prey made a note of how Crimson's mental defences crumbled in the face of shock and stress. He may need that in the future.

Aside from Crimson's failed words, they were all silent. The streets were still deserted, the smog still hung above, the smell of smoke still drifted past, the threat of the dragon still there, but that just didn't seem so dire right now.

'-never going to forget those rats. Who would do this? Why, what were they trying to hide?-'

Anger was finally starting to work it's way into the Sargent's thoughts as the shock faded, '-whichever pony did this is going to pay-'

Then, half way back to the Palace, the smog started to dissipate.

"The dragon has been driven off!"

"The diplomats succeeded, good on them."

"Barely got out of Canterlot and we're back already."

"That dragon got off easy."

"I was so ready for that scaly lizard."

"Ha! Wouldn't have stood a chance against all of us."

Upon their return, this was what they found. The Guard Compound was full of the returning Royal and Night Guard sections, the former all celebrating.

No one paid any attention to the blank faced thestral, pegasus and sheep plodding past. The Royal Guard had better things to do, like celebrate and boast of their bravado.

They were strong. They were the Royal Guard! They could never be defeated.

Nor did they notice an ashen faced Quick Draw and a blank eyed Scenic Paint with a thousand yard stare reporting to Captain Shining Armour.

And why would they? They were celebrating the triumph of ponies over a dragon elder!

The ISND went to Nighthawk's office, but he wasn't there. He hadn't been in the Guard Compound courtyard either, which meant he was probably reporting to Princess Luna right now.

Gloom wordlessly turned them around and lead them first to a bathroom, silently waiting for Prey to thoroughly wash and rewash his hoof, and then to the office. Prey knew what was coming, but he stepped inside anyway when Gloom held the door open. Shaken people could do stupid, sometimes dangerous things, but Prey wasn't any more afraid than normal. He could see how drained Gloom and Crimson were.

And the office was full of his runes if it came down to it. Thus, he went inside.

Gloom shut the door and sat himself down in front of it, like he was scared they would try and bolt if he didn't. Or perhaps he didn't have the energy to move any further inside. Prey looked sideways at Crimson. The Pegasus didn't look any better than Gloom did.

"...So." Gloom said after a long while.

"So." Prey agreed.

"Here we are." Crimson said simply.

Gloom took a deep, slow breath. He closed his eyes and let it out again.

"Whatever you have to say, please say it now and get it out there. Both of you. Because I'm going to start speaking myself in a minute." Gloom said without opening his eyes.

What was there to say? Prey didn't have anything. He would've thought it was all pretty obvious.

There'd been a quadruple murder, they'd discovered it, they would be the ones ordered to solve it. Anything further than that was unnecessary, just personal feelings and fears. So Prey shrugged and sat himself down on the floor, fiddling with the end of his ribbon.

Crimson was slow to speak up, but in the end he did decide to say something.

"Somepony murdered those ponies. They must be caught. They need to face justice. If they don't... That won't be right. Nopony can't ever be allowed to get away with this." Crimson said, a slow kind of anger burning in his words.

Gloom nodded but didn't speak, letting Crimson continue.

"Sir, you saw it...I, I don't think I could go back- No, I can go back there. I will do my duty." Crimson straightened his neck back to it's familiar rigid posture, "I'm sorry, I was weak there for a moment. I can do this sir. I can do this. That's what I want to say. You don't have to worry about me. I can do this."

Gloom nodded again, finally opening his eyes. He looked so tired. "Is there anything else? Something else you want to say maybe Crimson?"

Crimson caught Gloom's hint. Slowly, he turned to face Prey. "I think...I mean, I have something to explain."

"We both do," Gloom joined it, "Something important that we need you to listen to very carefully Prey."

Crimson took a deep breath, "I can...My special talent is to smell blood. I mean, more than just smell it. I can track even a trace of blood almost anywhere. If I walk into a room, I can immediately smell it somepony has even the tinest cut." Crimson's gaze shifted away. Was that shame?

"That was why with the trap door, when it opened...It was overpowering. I'm sorry I did not warn you in time not to go down there Prey."

"If your sense of smell is so strong, why couldn't you tell until the trap door was opened? There was a lot of blood down there. Or does it have to be fresh?" Prey asked.

"It was too well made. The trap door, I mean. It was almost air tight. And the smell of smoke kept obscuring what little I could scent."

"That's not all though is it?" Prey asked, "You can track a familiar scent of blood far better than an unknown one, yes? Even if that person's not bleeding anymore."

Crimson looked back in surprise, "How did you know?"

"Because you're too good at finding me. That time when Luna, I mean when I hurt my ear, you got my scent didn't you? That's how you always seem to know where I am, like hiding in the mess hall."

"I, that is to say, yes Prey. I'm sorry, it's just what my talent is."

Prey scowled. That was most annoying to have his suspicion confirmed. He did not want some 'blood hound' able to sniff him out. Gloom and Crimson misinterpreted the look for something else.

"Prey, listen, I know what you're thinking, but we are not vamponies I promise you." Gloom hurried to reassure Prey.

"You have nothing to fear from me. From us, I mean." Crimson quickly tacked on.

Gloom sat forwards, "Prey, I need to explain this to you before you make any rash decisions. You can't go telling anypony about this, okay?"

"Was that a threat?" Prey asked.

"Wha-? No no, of course not, but-We don't want you to tell anypony, but we won't stop you. But listen to me first, okay? We're not threatening you. Not at all. No clan is. There isn't any danger to you, understand?" Gloom asked.

Prey understood the words the Sargent was saying, but there were plenty more thestrals out there who could be upset about Prey knowing this, "Well, as Crimson said, here we are. I'm a captive audience, so explain away."

Gloom sighed and scratched at the edge of his chest scar, "You said you already knew that we, that is, most thestrals need blood. Why didn't you say anything before? Is it... because you were scared we would do something if we found out?" Gloom asked hesitantly.

No, that wasn't what Prey had thought, but he didn't make any move to confirm or deny it either way. It was incredibly cruel to let Gloom stew in his guilt like this, what with the cellar still fresh in everyone's thoughts, but, well, so what? Prey didn't feel like talking.

"We wouldn't, I mean we won't do anything even if you do tell somepony about this. We do drink blood yes, you already know that, but we're not vamponies like all the stories say. These?" Gloom drew back his lips, revealing the sharp upper and lower canines, "We don't go around biting ponies and sucking their blood. We don't eat meat, we don't even really know why we have these. They're just hereditary as far as we can tell."

"But not all thestrals are blood drinkers, as you said. Lieutenant Screech for example, he declined your offer that night for a glass. What's the ratio in the clans?" Prey asked.

Gloom had to take a moment to catch up to where Prey was, "How-? Never mind. But you're right. Yes, about seven in ten thestrals are born with the need to drink blood. It manifests about the time a foal is weened." Gloom explained. He was talking to Prey, but in his head the cellar was going round and around. The way Crimson's gaze kept slipping away to nothing indicated it was the same for him.

"Your words seem to indicate that the blood drinkers can't drink from other blood drinkers, which means the clans subsist or subsisted entirely on the blood of those three in ten." Prey said.

Gloom was past caring or being surprised at this point, "Yes. For some reason, the blood from other blood drinkers doesn't satisfy. The three in ten, donors, we owe a lot to them. There's no pattern that we can see for why a foal is born one way or the other. It doesn't matter what their parents are, the foal can be something completely different."

"How much blood and how often?" Prey asked.

Since Gloom was being so open, Prey wanted to get as much information as he could, even if Gloom thought he was being callous by asking this right after the four murders. Gloom still wasn't sure what to think on that front. He hadn't fully moved on from the cellar yet. Seeing a body in that state tended to have that effect.

"A cup, or two cups a week," Gloom shrugged bleakly, "It depends on how much you exert yourself." Something occurred to him, making him jerk upright.

"Thestral's don't turn into blood thirsty monsters if they don't get enough blood, that's just a stupid myth." Gloom hurriedly added.

Prey held up his hoof, "I never said they did, and that's a fairly obvious point regardless."

"Oh, sorry. But all the vampony stories are portrayed that way. The tales have been around for centuries. Even if most ponies don't believe in them, if they learnt of our dietary needs, well..." Gloom didn't have to finish that sentence. "Which is why this can't get out to ponykind, alright? We've only just rejoined society, they're not ready for this. If they found out..."

"They'll react with racial fear and thestrals will be driven back into exile for another thousand years?" Prey suggested.

"Something like that." Crimson muttered.

"Yes, something like that." Gloom sighed, "Their Majesties and some other ponies in high authority already know all this anyway. If we don't get regular blood we just...waste away, grow weak, get sick, and eventually, we'd die. But we're always ourselves. We don't loose control or anything like in all those stories, okay?"

Prey had already worked that much out for himself. It was just how if someone just ate fruit and didn't get all the minerals they needed. Eventually, they'd wither and die. They might be physically full, eating three meals everyday, but their body would still starve to death.

Crimson took a deep breath, "I, I am different."

Gloom gave him an encouraging nod to go on. Crimson held his head up high and spoke clearly, "I am a pegasus, but I was born to thestral parents. I am the same as Sargent Gloom. Inside, my body is still like a thestral, a drinker. I too need blood. That's just how it is."

Gloom was watching Crimson, obviously waiting for him to go on, but the pegasus stopped speaking there.

Gloom's brows drew together, and he made a motion with his wing to Crimson, but Crimson either didn't understand it or pretended he didn't.

'-well if you won't, I will. It's not fair that you shouldn't be recognised-', Gloom thought.

"Crimson hasn't told you it all. Crimson is a special case, he drew the short straw. His tongue is different to a normal thestrals. He needs blood yes, but to him it tastes like, well like it would taste to you Prey."

Gloom calmly met Crimson's accusing stare, "Prey should realise how hard you work. You should be proud of yourself."

Gloom's words were obviously meant as encouragement, but now really was not the time. Crimson looked away, tail swishing.

Prey watched it all, eyes missing nothing. He saw how Gloom was working himself up to address Prey. This conversation about the thestral blood needs would've been horrifying to an ordinary pony, but right now it was just a precursor to what was to come next.

'-what must come next. Moon knows, I wish this would go away. The skittering ratsNo. Pull yourself together Dusky Gloom-', Gloom wanted to take the cowards way out and not say anything, just let the damage done fester and hope it would go away if he ignored it. But he was a thestral, and thestrals did not shirk their duty.

Gloom couldn't seem to stop glancing back at Prey's hoof, the one he'd tested the congealed blood with. The Sargent shuddered. "Prey, do you know what I want to talk to you about?"

The mask was back over Prey's eyes, glassy and opaque. "Yes. And no."

"Yes and no?" Gloom repeated, waiting for Prey to expand.

"Yes, because you're outraged that I was down in the cellar with you. That I tested the bloods age. You think a child shouldn't-"

"-A child shouldn't! No child should!" Gloom exploded with pent up fury, startling Prey. Not fury at Prey, just fury in general at the unfairness of a world that allowed four ponies to be murdered.

"You shouldn't have been down there! You should have left when I told you to! That was a murder. A murder! Four ponies dead. Do you think I want you seeing something like that? But noooooo, all I could manage was to stop Paint Spot and his friend from seeing it." Gloom's wings and hooves gesticulated wildly, "I'm your Sargent, no, I'm your leader! Luna told me to help you two. And you, and you, you just, you-"

Gloom's wings flopped and all the energy went out of him.

Prey was watching the thestral warily, like he was ready to jump back at any moment.

"And you don't understand why I'm angry. Don't you get it? No, you obviously don't." Gloom accused, but with no energy.

"Okay, I don't understand." Prey cautiously agreed.

Gloom looked helplessly to Crimson, "You understand, don't you?" He asked, desperately hoping that at least one other person got it.

Crimson nodded to show that he did, but... '-but does Crimson really? Do I have two Preys that I've got to try and sort out?-'

"Crimson, are you sure you understand what-?"

"Yes I understand. I already told you, didn't I? Didn't I already say?" Crimson snapped in a rare show of temper. A moment later though he was bowing his head and apologising, "I'm sorry sir, I shouldn't have said that."

"No, no I'm the one who shouldn't have asked. I know you didn't misunderstand, you've seen..." Gloom didn't finish that sentence. He swallowed.

'-Prey stuck his hoof into that pool like it was nothing. Like he didn't understand it was a dead body. No, he did, but, but like he didn't comprehend...-', Gloom was struck with sudden insight. '-he might be suppressing it in shock. That explains it all!-'

"Prey, when you stuck your hoof in the... When you tested the blood, what did you feel? Inside."

Prey glared at Gloom.

"Really? Really? This again? After everything I keep telling you over and over, you still think I don't have a concept of morality? Fine, you want to know what I felt? Disgust, loathing, like filth, like a freak. I can almost still feel the blood on my hoof. Do you think I don't realise what happened down there? Well let me describe it to you." He said with sickly sweet calm.

"There were four ponies, all murdered by a griffon. The left most pegasus had sixteen claw slashes across his chest, and his right ear had been torn off. He had a stab wound in his side, just above his kidneys and another at the base of his neck, off center by about an inch. The knife was hooked, and tore-"

"-Stop!" Gloom shouted, aghast. He swallowed, "You can remember all that?"

"All the time." Prey confirmed, then realised he perhaps shouldn't have. Oh well. By this point, they already more or less knew about his memorisation talent.

"You've seen this before, haven't you? This isn't the first time." Crimson suddenly said, "I'm right, aren't I?"

"Well so have you two. I know you both have." Prey shot back, getting defensive.

"This isn't anypony's fault. Life isn't clean, and ponies die. Sometimes, it's violent and somepony sees it. It's not your fault whatever happened. Yes, I admit it, I've seen death." Gloom said freely. "I don't talk about it, I try not to think about it, but I do acknowledge it. It is not my fault. And it's not yours, either of yours"

"Prey, whom did you see killed?" Crimson asked.

Prey narrowed his eyes, "My father...Died to raiders." He answered slowly. Only a half truth, but it was the only one he could give them without raising suspicions.

"It was your father too?" Crimson asked emptily.

Prey didn't know what to do aside from nod.

Guilt was running heavy laden through Gloom's mind at the moment, and he was trying to find something to say to comfort both of them, "Crimson, I am sorry... And Prey, that you..." He stopped.

'-what can I say? Sorry you saw your fathers murdered? That sound so shallow-', Gloom knew there was nothing he could say to that, or to what they'd seen today.

'-it's so unfair the Royal Guards all get to celebrate while we're stuck with this mess-', Gloom thought, pettiness working it's way into the Sargent's thoughts, not something Prey was accustomed to hearing in there.

But Gloom wasn't naive enough to believe life was fair.

Someone knocked on the door. "Sargent Gloom." Came the muffled call.

Gloom was still sitting in front of the door, and made no attempt to move, but somehow he dredged up the strength to answer back, "What is it?"

"Captain Nighthawk wants to speak with you in his office."

"We'll be there in five minutes." Gloom called. '-the captain can wait for once-', They hadn't written up their reports yet, and the idea of even putting quill to paper to record what they'd seen made Gloom feel sick.

The Night Guard outside left, leaving them in silence.

How had it all gone so wrong? Everything had all been going so well. The trial was over and done with, Wheat Plow was in jail, and the Night Guard was all set to move forwards into the spot light. Then the dragon came along and this happened.

Gloom made no move to get up, and Crimson nor Prey made any attempt to prompt him.

It took almost the full five minutes before Gloom finally mustered the motivation to get up. He spoke, "We've got to go see the Captain." He stated. He paused.

"Are you both...ready for that?" Gloom asked, thinking, '-I don't feel ready-'

Crimson gave a funny twitch, like he was trying to shrug without shrugging, "No. But I will do my duty sir."

It was inappropriate to smile, but Prey didn't know what else to do, and Gloom wanted a response, any response from him to prove he wasn't comatosed or something. Prey had no other mask he knew how to wear, so he put on a smile and gave the answer he thought Gloom wanted to hear. "No. But here we are. Are you ready, sir?"

It was a mistake.

Gloom couldn't stomach looking at that smile anymore, or else he would get angry again, "No. Lets go." He said turning away.

"Lieutenant Screech left this message for me." Nighthawk held up a scroll, a broken black seal hanging off it. "He said you found a murder."

"Yes sir. We did." Gloom said.

Nighthawk didn't do anything for a minute. His only sign of life was the methodical 'tap tap tapping' of his hoof on the crowded desk. The ISND stood arrayed in front of him, unmoving.

"Tell me." Nighthawk finally ordered.

Gloom didn't want to. A sun blinded thestral could have seen that much, but Nighthawk's tone brooked no delay. "Yes sir. I found, Crimson found, well, we all found a suspicious house..."

Gloom proceeded to give the Captain a run down of events, delivering the report in a monotone with his eyes fixed straight ahead.

He only stumbled when he came to mentioning how the rats had fled in the lantern light, but he recovered admirably and plowed on ahead. Prey made a show of only looking at the floor, but he was listening with great attention to the Captain's thoughts. Gloom had been upset, even angry with Prey for his behaviour at the drug den. Would Nighthawk be the same? If so, Prey was prepared to defend his actions.

Prey could understand Gloom and Crimson's anger on the surface. But, deeper than that, he just wasn't sure. Prey couldn't read peoples emotions, only their thoughts. True, he could predict and work out what they were feeling most of the time by examining their thoughts, but not always. Like now.

Nighthawk's thoughts only stayed on the details of what Gloom told him. The number of bodies, how they were found, the way the'd located the trapdoor, the other entrance in the cellar Gloom had chased the rats out from. That was what Nighthawk listened to; the implications and possible links. Not the horror.

But those were only the Night Guard Captain's surface thoughts. His sharp yellow gaze regarded each of them in turn, the shapes of other things working away underneath his surface thoughts.

Gloom's retelling came to the end, finishing with saying they'd only just returned to the office when they got Captain Nighthawk's summons. There was no mention made of what had been said or that Prey knew about the thestrals need for blood. Parts of that discussion had been private yes, but some of it related to the clans as a whole. But Gloom said nothing.

With Gloom finished talking, they returned to silently waiting while Nighthawk's hoof 'tap tap tapped' away, each caught up in their own wandering thoughts. Idly Prey wished the Night Guards would improve the lighting in their offices for the non-thestrals who had to try and see in them.

'Is now really the time to be thinking about lighting?' Prey asked himself.

No, but there was no point in wishing that they hadn't found the murder scene either. What had happened had happened. There was no changing that.

Towards the four murdered ponies... Prey was apathetic.

Gloom and Crimson were taking it far too personally, being horrified and outraged at whomever this griffin murderer was. Prey only cared about avoiding meeting said griffin himself.

'They should learn to wear a mask. Like me.' It was better than choosing to feel guilty. Prey knew he was indirectly responsible for these deaths.

If Lemon Pink hadn't gone in under his orders and unintentionally escalated the situation, perhaps the boss of those four ponies wouldn't have felt it necessary to take drastic measures and kill them. Lemon had merely been following his orders. Unintentional or not, Prey had a hoof in their deaths, but even knowing that, he didn't feel guilty. Or rather, no more guilt than he always felt.

Prey wondered what Gloom and Crimson would do if they knew about his part in this. 'There's a thought to keep me up thinking at night.' Prey thought, morbidly amused.

"Sargent Gloom," Nighthawk started, having finally reached a conclusion. The all looked up.

"I want you to take Prey and Crimson back to your office and write that incident report. You aren't to give copies to anypony but me, the Lieutenants, or Princess Luna. If the Royal Guard wants to know anything, direct them to us.

Prey caught his thoughts, '-there are traitors in the Royal Guard. I don't trust anypony not in my Night Guard-'.

To Prey, that fact should've readily been apparent. The unrefined salt trade had been avoiding attention far too cleverly for it not to be getting inside help of some regard.

"Yes sir."

"I'm not done Sargent. Tonight, the ISND is to return to the murder scene. Yes, I know what I'm asking," Nighthawk cut Gloom off, gruff voice unyielding, "But you have to go back. You are to investigate that house, and I want whatever you can find, found. Get a lead, I don't care how. Follow it, and catch these ponies. They cannot be allowed to fly loose in Her Majesty's city."

'It's a griffon, not a pony.' Prey thought.

Once again, there was nothing Gloom could say but, "Yes sir."

"Anything you need, you'll get. Any resources or warrants, just ask. Any help or additional hooves you need, we can reassign."

"Yes sir."

"Now go write that report, then all of you are to get three hours sleep." Nighthawk ordered. '-or try to-'

"Er, sir yes?"

Now was not the time for Gloom to be quickly adjusting to orders, and for a moment he floundered in confusion.

"Get some sleep. You are no good as you are right now. Did you even eat breakfast?" Nighthawk challenged.

"Uh, no, with the dragon- I mean, no sir." The thought of food right now made Gloom feel sick.

Nighthawk grunted, like that explained it all. "I didn't think so. Go do that and come back when you're fit for duty again, all of you. Dismissed."

Gloom looked ready to sag, "Yes sir. Thank you, sir."

'-don't thank me yet Sargent-'

They walked back to their office and did what Nighthawk had ordered; writing out their personal statements. It promised to be a tedious, mentally painful task. Prey began writing out the bare minimum of details he thought he could get away with, not wanting to commit too much to paper in case it set off Gloom again. He still wasn't sure what'd triggered the thestral's anger earlier.

As he wrote, Prey watched Gloom and Crimson from the corner of his eye as they too reluctantly set quill to paper.

Writing this out as a report made the murder seem so... The word was probably 'fake' or 'undervalued'.

Whomever read this wouldn't understand. They'd read the words and think they understood the horror, but they'd have no idea what it'd really looked like down in the cellar.

Prey wrote slowly, thinking about how he should proceed from here.

Should he try and drag this case out and delay it? Or try and speed it along using the information only he knew?

Plans. Always it came down to Prey trying to make plans, and then back up plans for when it all went wrong. Sometimes he wished everything could just be simple.

Prey paused to dip the quill, before continuing writing; '...unicorn's horn destroyed and detached from forehead. Likely cause: loosened by blunt impact then wrenched off by a claw...'

Should he try and get Lemon Pink involved? The ISND had been ordered to solve this case, which meant he had to solve it. If he didn't, then Luna would have no further use for him.

Solving this might be easier with outside help, even if Gloom and Crimson were unawares someone was secretly helping them along. But it would put Lemon at greater risk. These drug dealers were trying to avoid the Guard's notice, but Lemon Pink wasn't a Guard and could be silenced if she was caught. Lemon Pink might have his cunning and experience, so it was unlikely she would get caught, but there was still a fifteen percent chance of capture, and that calculation had a wide margin of error.

Prey's first step should be to clearly establish the connection between the murders and the salt trade for Gloom and Crimson to see, and then work from there.

He didn't have enough information about how this drug boss thought and worked. But Prey already knew they were efficient and ruthless, the disposal of four of his own people proved that. They seemed to have the same mentality as the Resistance. And that was dangerous. Prey needed more information.

'More information, you always needing more information.' Prey mocked himself, but it was true. He was not prepared to commit until he knew more.

Prey did not want to risk Lemon Pink by sending her in. There was still so much he needed his valuable servant for after all.

By the time they'd finished writing, Prey was still undecided about which path, if any, he should take. None of the ISND had spoken, each setting their own personal grim thoughts to paper without being influenced or distracted.

They gathered the three reports together and delivered them to Starry Wing, who wordlessly nodded and accepted them. Nighthawk must've filled the Lieutenant in on what had happened, because he briefly placed his wing on Gloom's shoulder before he disappeared, leaving the three of them to follow the second half of Nighthawk's orders;

Go and get some sleep.

'-sleep? Sleep? Like I can sleep now. It'll just be nightmares about rats. Oh Luna, that's going to be stuck in my head for the rest of my life-', Gloom realised.

The bunk room had never felt less inviting.

Prey had thought it very unlikely they'd be able to get any sleep, but upon reaching his bed, his body reminded him just how tired it really was. He'd lasted longer without sleep before, but that didn't mean he didn't feel exhausted right now. His eyes felt grainy and he could barely keep them open when they fell upon his soft pillow. He knew from bitter experience how these experiences exhausted you, but somehow it never ceased to surprise him.

Gloom stripped off most of his armour and slumped down on his bunk, staring blankly at the wall. The Sargent didn't show it, but Prey knew he was upset at Captain Nighthawk right now.

'-sleep? Sleep? How can I be sleeping at a time like this?-'

Prey wasn't the only one exhausted however.

Within minutes, despite everything, both Gloom and Crimson had drifted into an uneasy slumber. Prey could see them shifting about restlessly on their bunks as drowsiness dragged his own heavy eyelids shut.

'Your captain's more intelligent than you realise.' Was Prey's last muzzy thought before he too drifted off.

Three hours of fitful sleep passed quicker than expected, but it didn't leave them feeling any better. In fact, Prey's body felt worse for those three hours it felt it'd been tricked into, but he knew it would do him good. What he actually needed was a full night's sleep, not this half rest the ISND had been snatching whenever they could.

Gloom and Crimson looked worse for wear too. On waking from what could only charitably be called "sleep", Gloom's first despairing thought was, '-moon blight, it really did happen. And we have to solve it...-'

"Prey, Crimson, you awake?" Was all Gloom felt he could manage, hauling himself off his bunk.

Prey made a noise of confirmation that he too was awake. It sounded like a humming bird clearing it's throat, so he made it again louder to make sure Gloom heard him. He'd fallen asleep on top of his ear and now it'd gone to sleep. Just perfect.

"Crimson?" Gloom tried again, fumbling for the helmet which'd rolled under the bunk from where he'd dropped it.

Crimson slowly sat upright, "My neck hurts." He commented to nobody. Prey saw he hadn't untied the metal ring bunching up his mane, so that probably explained it.

"Leaving now." Gloom muttered.

It took a minute for Gloom and Crimson to reattach the bits of armour they'd shed to sleep. They'd only removed the minimum, anything more would've been too much effort in their funk. Prey spent that extra minute trying to more fully wake himself up, stretching and rubbing some life back into his numb ear.

He sighed, thinking about all the work lay ahead, 'Murder murder on the wall, most vile sin of them all.'

For the second time today, it was not a cheerful procession which made its way once more out from the Guard Compound's gate.

It was still early in the evening, but all the dragon smoke from earlier was gone, all lingering traces having been cleared away by the weather pegasi. Which meant the high streets were now thronging with happy ponies, all keen to make up for the morning spent hiding away now that their beloved Princess has dealt with their problem. Who was the ambassador Celestia sent? Actually, had she gone herself? Was she or Luna the aforementioned diplomat? That would explain a lot. The newspapers would have it covered tomorrow morning, Prey was sure.

Would this quadruple murder be reported in there too? Or would the Princesses have the information suppressed?

Prey hated all these ponies they were moving past, and today he imagined even Gloom and Crimson felt the same way. To see the happy, privileged, rich snobs going about their lives as if nothing was wrong. It wasn't their fault that they didn't know about the murders, but it was their fault they wouldn't want to know either if given the choice.

It would be fair to say they were all in a foul mood as they came towards the Poppy Street intersection and found the street cordoned off.

The area had been blocked off with some flimsy cones and 'Crime Scene - No Entry' signs, like that would be enough to stop anyone who wanted to get in. However, there was also a lone Night Guard standing sentry on the other side of the cones, the thestral a far more effective deterrent.

Prey noted the sentry wasn't the only Night Guard there. There was another one hidden in the shadows up on a roof, watching the sky and alley ways. Prey was willing to bet he wasn't the only hidden one either, the Guard on the street was just acting as a decoy. The Night Guard were certainly not the Royal Guard.

Prey wondered what the residents of this street had been told, if anything, or if they'd just been confined to their homes until further notice.

'Unlikely, most of these are small office buildings. They were probably ordered to leave and go home instead.' Prey judged.

Crimson breathed deeply as the old drug den came into view, likely mentally preparing himself. There was a lot more activity going on around it than the last time they'd been here, just five hours ago.

Two covered Guard wagons had been pulled up outside to block off access, with more cones and signs set up all around in case the message wasn't clear enough, and of course more Night Guards. They found Lieutenant Screech next to one of the carts, listening to a Private giving a short routine patrol report.

The thestral had found nothing suspicious to report and was already leaving as the three of them got there. Screech looked tired, in fact all of the Night Guard command Prey'd seen today looked tired. Having murder shoved under your muzzle will do that to a pony. To most races actually.

"Sir." Gloom said.

"Sargent Gloom. Captain Nighthawk sent word that you would be back to start the investigation." Screech said. No more comforting words of reassurances like this morning. They'd been given time to pull themselves together, so by now Screech expected them to be able to do their duty.

They were the Night Guard, and proud of it. They'd deal with whatever came their way like true thestrals. Or sheep.

Gloom looked towards the front door, which had now been propped open along with the back door. To help preserve the crime scene, a tarp had also been spread over the hole Crimson had made in the roof. "What's been done in there sir?" Gloom asked.

"We've been searching the top room. We found coat hairs from multiple ponies, which proves nothing. The place has been thoroughly cleared out, just like you said. No papers, receipts, old food, coffee mugs, nothing. Just empty crates which seemed to have held cloth at some point."

"But nothing useful sir?" Gloom asked.

"Nothing yet." Screech confirmed with a sigh.

"And...In the cellar? Has anypony gone down there sir?" Gloom asked.

Screech's fangs stood out as he unconsciously drew his lip back in a grimace as he answered;

"Only me. I covered them with a sheet, but otherwise, nopony. Out of the four photographers we could find in Canterlot on such short notice, none would lend their photography equipment to the Night Guard, at least without an explanation. And that's not an option. It was a good idea though Prey. I'll recommend to the Captain that the Night Guard gets the equipment for itself next time."

"I pray there isn't a next time sir." Gloom said bleakly.

"Me too Sargent, me too." Screech said, his loudly thoughts returning to what he himself had seen down there. '-may they find rest in the stars of Luna's mane-'

Gloom looked back at the cordoned off house, "That door down in the cellar, did we find out where it lead?"

'You're stalling,' Prey thought, 'Go in and seeing for yourself.'

"We did. It doesn't go far. There's a tunnel that comes up in the warehouse right there." The Lieutenant answered, pointing to the small warehouse on the other side of the fence.

'See? Now that's actual useful information.' Prey thought. He cleared his throat and spoke up;

"What's stored in the warehouse right now? What goods are bought and sold from there and in what quantities? Food or materials? Do the goods come in from one supplier or is it used by multiple people? Who owns the warehouse and who has access?" Prey asked, then quickly adding, "Sir." And lowering his eyes when Screech looked at him in suspicious surprise.

Screech's eyes moved to Gloom questioningly, but Gloom had no explanations for his ribbon wearing runt subordinate. And he was too tired to care right now about what weirdness Prey was cooking up either. Gloom just shrugged.

"Corporal Humming is looking into the records at the Guild department," Screech answered Prey slowly, "She hasn't gotten back to me yet, but I expect she'll have all a full report by tonight."

Well that put an end to those questions for now, and Prey was now keeping his mouth shut and refraining from asking anything further. Screech's look had been too suspicious for his tastes just now.

With no answers immediately forth coming, that only left the cellar scene which had remained undisturbed, waiting for the ISND. Gloom took a moment to steel himself for what was to come, ignoring the defeatist thoughts flashing through his head about having no idea how to investigate a murder.

'-nopony in Canterlot knows how to investigate a murder like this-', Gloom realised, '-but somepony has to do it-'

The worst the Guard could've run into before was accidental killings or spell casting gone wrong, although those were rare enough. Celestia’s presence (and Royal Guards), seemed to have an inhibiting effect on any serious violence.

"Alright. We're going down there now to investigate sir." Gloom said. "Prey you... you wait up in the house while we go down there. That's an order."

"No sir, it's not. How else am I supposed to help solve this case?" Prey immediately responded.

"You won't be. Not for this bit."

Prey's voice lowered to a whisper, "I've already seen it all. Trying to protect my innocence further or whatever it is you're doing is useless. Luna-"

-Princess Luna!" Gloom snapped.

"-Alright, Princess Luna, she won't let me sit by and do nothing. I don't have a choice in this and neither do you." Prey told him.

"There is a choice, and it's my choice. You're staying up here." Gloom said hotly.

Gloom seemed to have forgotten about Lieutenant Screech standing right there beside them. Screech was Gloom's senior, both in their clan and in the Night Guard, however he didn't say a word. It wasn't his place. The ISND was under Gloom's command, and on top of that;

'-what would I even say? I don't know the right choice here either-', Screech thought.

Prey continued to ignore Screech, talking only to Gloom, "This is ridiculous, sir. Do you think it'll just go away? That I can forget? It's too late for that. You should be maximising your available resources here, not telling them to sit by. You need all the help you can get. Sir. So just say yes, and we can all get on with trying to do our job."

"I don't need to know what to do to know what's wrong." Gloom retorted.

Prey tried changing tact, "Why are only you and Crimson allowed to catch this griffin? Do I just have to sit by and do nothing? I found this murder scene too, why shouldn't I get to help? I want to catch him or her just as much as you."

Which was true, but not for any ideal of justice. Prey just couldn't afford to look useless in front of Luna.

"Besides," He reasoned, "It's too late to keep me from seeing the murder scene. It's not moral to force someone else to go down there now. And so what if Crimson is older than me, we've got a lot of the same experiences."

Gloom knew Prey was wrong. He knew it was definitely not the moral choice. But right now, Prey's reasoning was tempting.

'-isn't this why Princess Luna made the ISND? To take unpleasant choices?-'

Gloom's heart told him it was wrong, but Prey was also right. If not the lamb, then somepony else would have to go down there. He couldn't do this with just him and Crimson. But he just couldn't get the image of Prey sticking his hoof in the blood out of his head.

His cutie mark was also keeping silent, no guiding help from harmony today. Screech wouldn't make this choice for him either, this was all Gloom's responsibility. Whatever he did, the Lieutenant would back him up on.

Gloom started for the house, wings slack, "Let's get this over with. Both of you."

Inside his head, his thoughts loudly condemned him for taking the easy choice.

Silently, Prey and Crimson followed, Prey ignoring the Pegasus's eyes in the back of his neck.

The trap door into the cellar was still open, but the blackness from below had been banished by more glow lanterns. Even thestrals did not want to be down there without light, something primal making them bring illumination to banish the darkness.

They all paused around the opening in the floor, looking down and taking a silent moment before they descended. There were four shapes covered in white sheets below. Splotches stained the sheets, the outlines giving unwelcome impressions as to what they hid.

Gloom closed his eyes for a second, then quickly descended before he could change his mind.

Prey smiled politely at Crimson, "After you."

Crimson looked sideways at Prey for a long moment before following after Gloom. Was that disgust flickering in those blank eyes, or just disappointment? Prey noticed how the Pegasus had only breathing through his mouth since they'd entered, so it might've just been the smell.

'Like I care.'

Prey glanced over at the lone Night Guard in the room, who was looking back. Prey smiled at him too and started down the steps.

The steps were just as awkwardly steep as last time, but Prey found the decent much easier with the three glow lamps which had been set on the floor. The unoccupied bits of the floor.

Gloom breathed shallowly as he reluctantly went up to the closest sheet, and gingerly grasped the top corners. Down here and this close, the sheets really didn't do anything aside from fuel your imagination.

"Okay. Okay are you two ready?" He asked quietly. There was no real reason to be quiet, there was no one left down here to disturb.

Crimson nodded, still only breathing through his mouth. Prey didn't blame him, the smell of old viscera reeked, and it was only going to get worse.

"Ready?" Prey answered quizzically.

Apparently Gloom was too distracted to notice it was a question and not a confirmation, because he proceeded.

Gritting his teeth, Gloom carefully pulled back the sheet, revealing the screwed up face of the Earth pony. The face was strangely untouched by the rats, but so very pale under the fur. Then the sheet stuck where something black had seeped through, and Gloom had to pull it free with a horrible slurping noise, completely destroying any respect for the dead he'd been trying to maintain.

Prey didn't know why he was bothering in the first place.

There is no such thing as a clean death. That rotten stench in the air? That was from the corpses voiding their bowels. There was no respect in death.

Gloom seemed to realise he was only going to make things worse doing it slowly. He braced himself and with a wrench, pulled the whole sheet off in one go, refusing to stop despite the way it clung.

Below the neck line, the corpse was far less untouched than the face.

Prey's nose scrunched up as the wave of dead gases which'd been trapped under the sheet were released, but he didn't look away. Muscles in Crimson's neck twitched, as if repressing a gag, but he too remained strong.

Gloom just kind of... Stared at the body.

'-now what am I supposed to do?-', He was thinking.

Prey saw how Gloom's gaze travelled over the corpse and his thoughts turned towards anger once again. '-when I get my hooves on whoever did this...-'

"Okay," Gloom said. "Okay, okay." He repeated. "Okay, this is, er, the first body."

Prey looked at it. They all looked at it.

"It doesn't tell us anything." Prey said.

"...What are you saying?" Gloom asked.

"Looking at this corpse won't tell us anything we don't already know, so why are we looking at it?"

Gloom almost exploded.

"You convince me to let you come down here and then you say there was no point?!"

Prey raised his hooves and backed away, Gloom was angry, tired, and stressed right now. It was a bad time to say what he really thought, so Prey went for being diplomatic. "No sir, you misunderstood me. We already know how these ponies died, that's not in question. The claw marks are consistent with a griffin, and there are knife wounds. But this doesn't tell us anything. It doesn't help us catch the griffin and whoever helped him or her."

"What do you mean? And how would you know if he had help or not?"

"We don't know if it's a him or her yet." Prey corrected calmly, "And what I mean is; this griffin has snuck into the city. Even if we learn his or her claw size, feather colour, height, anything like that, it still isn't going to help us find them since they're obviously hiding. Do you know how many griffins are registered to live in Canterlot, sir?"

Prey waited for a beat before providing the answer, "None. Not a single one. Out of over forty thousand residents, there are none. It's not a question of evidence to identify this griffin. It's question of catching the griffin first."

"What about Cloudsdale? There are definitely griffins living in the cloud city." Crimson interjected. His eyes were locked at a point just above the corpses head as he asked.

"Yes there are griffins there, but that still doesn't help us. There's no record of who goes in and out of Canterlot, a census is only taken if they're transporting goods to sell. But that's beside the point. This griffin certainly wouldn't have entered the city through ordinary channels if they came down here to commit murder. They could still be laying low in the city for all we know. Or have already left. Again, the issue is finding them to catch them." Prey said, laying out the problem before them.

Gloom's anger had left him, and he now saw and understood what Prey was trying to say.

It didn't matter what they learnt from these bodies. This wasn't an investigation trying to discover if someone was murdered, they already knew it was murder. None of it mattered if they couldn't actually catch the griffin.

"You could have said so before-No, forget it. I don't want to hear your excuse. It's not important to right now. What did you mean by others helping the griffin?" Gloom asked.

"Whoever this griffin is, they must've had help. How else would they get four ponies down here? The griffin did the killing, but others helped him trap them down here first. Two of these ponies were unicorns, there's no way they wouldn't have fought back." Prey gave a small shrug, "Four verses one, odds wouldn't have been in the griffin's favour if that were the case."

"So we have multiple murderers, not just one." Gloom said grimly. "No, that's not correct. The helpers are accomplices. The griffin was the only pony who did any murdering."

"He took pleasure in it too, sir." Crimson said flatly.

Crimson was right. These ponies hadn't just been killed, they'd been brutalized before they'd died. Gloom looked at the sheets covered in seeping stains. '-this is disgusting-'

"We may not be able to learn anything about this griffin, but we can still find something out about the ponies who helped him. There may be no griffins in Canterlot, but there are plenty of ponies." Gloom said.

"The Lieutenant already said they've found many traces of different coat fur. But that doesn't help us find the exact blue, white, pink, or whatever colour pony the hair came from." Prey said. He was shooting down the Sargent's ideas one by one, and he hoped Gloom wouldn't get angry at him again just for being practical.

"We might still find something on the bodies that could help us identify any pony suspects." Gloom said.

"Well, unless it was unicorns." Prey said. Telekinesis or stunning spells wouldn't leave anything that could be tracked back to anyone for certain.

"Magic leaves traces. We could get another unicorn to scan for it can't we sir?" Crimson suggested.

"Unfortunately not." Gloom sighed. He drew the sheet back up over the corpse, as it seemed examining them would serve no purpose except helping them all loose sleep. "A unicorn could scan this cellar yes, but they wouldn't find anything. I'm told unless it's really powerful, complex, or dark magic, the spell signature will have faded into untraceable within a few minutes."

Crimson looked at the bodies around them, the stench of death filling the air. It was like standing in raw sewerage, the longer you did the more familiar it got but the worse it also became. "What are we doing down here then sir?"

'-that's the question and I don't know. I haven't a clue what to do next. I haven't had a clue since I took this post-', Gloom thought. "Our duty. Looking for clues."

"Yes sir, but..." Crimson hesitated, "How sir? If I may ask."

It was Prey who answered, come to Gloom's rescue, "The bodies won't tell us anything we don't already know. But this cellar and the tunnel to the warehouse could tell us a lot."

It was obvious neither Crimson or Gloom had thought of that. A dead body was the center of attention in any room, and four of them all the more so.

"Yes," Gloom realised, relief evident in his posture, "We can search the room for other clues."

'-and not have a child prod dead bodies for them instead-'

Probably for the first time, Gloom and Crimson both turned to properly look around the hidden cellar without getting stuck on the four bodies and puddles of hardened blood in the middle.

The cellar's walls were thick stone blocks, much like the grey floor. The door on the far wall which Gloom had chased the rats out of was just a wooden plank construct, tightly fitted. It was set above floor height, and was only secured by a single dead bolt, likely there only for convenience sake. If someone had gotten in this far, locks weren't going to stop them.

Also in the corners of the room where two stacks of those same flat crates from upstairs, although these stacks were far shorter. Only five crates in one and seven in the other, and all just as empty.

"There's a lot of dust in the corners. Spider webs near the ceiling too." Crimson said. He'd stepped away from the bodies the moment Gloom had made the alternate suggestion of checking the room instead, and was now looking anywhere but behind him for clues.

"Any tracks in the dust? Marks maybe?" Gloom asked.

"No sir. I mean, no identifiable pony marks. All I can find is rat tracks and droppings." Crimson answered.

"Oh. Keep looking."

Prey started checking the crates carefully. They really were the exact same make as those upstairs. Nothing fancy, likely some lumber yard mass-produced nothing but these cheap crates. Hmm.

"It would be good if we could find out who supplies these crates and to whom. If there are only a few companies in Canterlot who use them, we could maybe narrow it down." Prey mused.

"Narrow it down to what?" Gloom asked.

"Probably nothing. But we think the crates held fabric, yes?"

Gloom looked at the empty crates, "That's what I thought and what Lieutenant Screech seemed to think too." He agreed.

"Likely yes then. Where did all the fabric go though? What was so important about cloth that four ponies were killed over it?" Prey asked, prodding a hoof into the crevices of the crates.

Gloom thought about that. "Are you saying you think somepony-no, this griffin, killed them over fabrics?" Gloom asked disbelievingly.

"When you say it like that, no. But then why did the griffin kill them? What was this hideout used for? Why has it now been abandoned? Do they not need it anymore?" Prey said, posing one question after another.

"I don't know. Why do you think?" Gloom asked, frustration colouring his tone.

Prey glanced back reproachfully, ribbon trailing over his shoulder. "I don't know either, sir. I'm just voicing it out loud so we can all think about it."

Gloom mentally slapped himself, '-get a grip. Prey shouldn't be down here but he's still trying to help. At least he isn't looking at the bodies any more-', Gloom thought with guilty relief.

Crimson's yellow eyes scanned the crate stack, "I think they left because they were finished here. And the four weren't killed over fabrics. That's the only thing that makes any sense sir."

"What?" Gloom asked, having been distracted by his own grim thoughts.

"What Prey asked. About why they would abandon this hideout. I think it's because they had no more use for it. They weren't expecting anypony else to ever come along. It was only luck we found this place when we did sir." Crimson said, explaining himself.

Gloom looked between Crimson and Prey, who shrugged back. "That seems to make sense." He agreed. Prey had already figured that much out, but he couldn't seem like he was the one with all the answers. Well he could, but eventually it would make Gloom suspicious that he knew more than he should.

"The reason also was not this fabric. There aren't any fabrics which are so valuable that somepony would be willing to kill over. Are there sir?" Crimson asked, double checking.

"No. Who would kill over some piece of cloth?" Gloom said confidently, seeing what Crimson meant but not seeing the way Prey's hoof twitched towards the ribbon behind his ear, or rather towards the memory of a different ribbon.

"Or if there is such a cloth, I don't think they would be transported in rough crates like these." Gloom amended, running a hoof across the crude grain of the wood.

Prey gave a hum of agreement, "So we're pretty sure that whatever they were doing here was not because of cloth goods. So what where they really smuggling in or out?"

"You think it's smuggling?" Gloom asked.

"Can you think of anything else that fits this, sir?" Prey asked, sweeping his gaze meaningfully around the cellar.

"So it was simple greed," Crimson stated quietly, "For greed these ponies were murdered. How atrocious."

Gloom was in complete agreement. Prey kept quiet and looked away. He'd played a minor role in all these deaths too.

"Is there anything else down here?" Gloom asked, looking slowly around, eyes lingering heavily on the four 'things' in the middle of the floor. The cellar had nothing in it aside from the crates, dust, the recently placed glow lamps, the bodies, and the three of them.

"I...have nothing further sir I don't think." Crimson said. His eyes were drawn inexorably back like a load stone to the same four things Gloom's had been.

"Prey?" Gloom prompted after a moment when he heard no agreement from the lamb.

"One second." Prey said without turning. He was poking around in the crates again.

Gloom waited for ten, then prompted him again, "Can we leave and go check the warehouse next?"

'-and get us out of this Tartarus hole-', He added.

"One second." Prey repeated, closely scrutinising one of the bottom crates from a distance of about two inches.

"Prey, if you've found something, good. If not, can we please get out of here?"

"Just a moment," Prey insisted, worming a hoof into the bottom crate, reaching for something in the back. "Almost-Got it." He said, pulling his hoof out.

"Got what? What is it?" Gloom asked starting forwards. Prey's hoof didn't hold anything he could see.

Prey squinted at his hoof, then delicately gave it a lick. "Hnng." He commented, sticking out his tongue.

'-was that the hoof he dipped into...?-', Gloom quickly cut that thought off. "What are you doing Prey?"

"That was a few grains of salt." Prey answered.

Gloom forgot about trying to get out of here as soon as possible. "Salt? Are you certain it's salt?" He asked, trotting over.

"Was salt yes. Didn't taste like normal salt, so unrefined drug salt." Prey answered.

"Why did you eat it then?"

"To see if it really was salt."

"It's a drug, you shouldn't have eaten it."

"A few grains isn't going to do anything, sir."

"What if it hadn't been salt, but something else?" Gloom challenged him, pulling crates down from the stack to get to the one Prey had found the salt in.

"Well it wasn't, and I had a hunch it was salt. I was just testing it."

"Well don't, that was evidence. And there's no more in here either." Gloom said, jabbing a hoof at the now uncovered crate.

True to the Sargent's words, there really was nothing on the wood, not even a single grain of white.

Prey peered over the top. "Huh. Did I really get the only few grains in the whole box? That's unfortunate."

"Unfortunate? Unfortunate? You don't say?" Gloom asked loudly, wing waving around the whole cellar, "Four murders which now look to be linked to the smuggling salt drug trade, and it's unfortunate?"

Prey backed off and gave Gloom a minute to calm down. He knew the Sargent was still angry about him coming down here again, along with how he'd acted on their first trip. Prey hadn't done anything wrong, so he still didn't get why everyone was so angry, but he knew not to escalate it if he didn't have to.

"So this is somehow part of the drug trade we've been investigating." Gloom said after taking a minute.

"This is not the kind of breakthrough I was hoping for sir." Crimson said. He was still trying to only breathe through his mouth in the stench. Prey and Gloom weren't as affected by it, or maybe they were better at ignoring it. Considering what Crimson's special talent was, it was probably the first.

"At least we found something more before we left." Gloom said, still examining the empty crate. "All those boxes upstairs, do you think they used to hold salt too?"

"I don't think so sir. Lieutenant Screech said they couldn't find anything in those crates, and there were a lot more crates up there than down here. Plus, they've had longer to check those ones over. I think they would've found at least one trace of salt if there were any to find, sir." Crimson said.

'-he has a point-'

Those were unlikely odds. For half a second, Gloom even considered if Prey might be lying, but; '-why would he even do that?-'

"Just luck or coincidence there was a trace left in this one then?" Prey suggested, shrugging to show he didn't know either.

"It must be. Smuggling unrefined salt... I didn't expect to stumble onto a drug den so soon," Gloom said shaking his head, "Alright, now let's please get out of here and over to the warehouse."

They got to the warehouse by taking the door which lead into the secret tunnel. Unlike the cellar, the passageway was roughly cut stone blocks, with bracing support beams set every yard or so. It wasn't far, Prey counted it as only about thirty yards until they came to the steps up at the other end.

This second trap door was already open, letting in light from the warehouse above to provide some illumination. If not, Prey would've been completely reliant on his ears to follow the path Gloom and Crimson took.

"You chased the rats down here sir, didn't you?" Crimson asked as they got to the end.

'-skittering rats, little teeth chewing on flesh-', Gloom pushed the thought away. "That's right."

"Well they're all gone now sir." Crimson said.

Gloom frowned, peering back to where the shadows were thickest in the middle of the tunnel, but obviously didn't see any movement of little bodies back there, "Perhaps they all ran out when this trapdoor was opened?" He suggested.

"Or there's a hole to the outside somewhere. There's no water in here, so they must have found some way out." Prey said. The who and where for the rats was unimportant. The how and why were all that might matter.

"We should ask around if someone's bought a lot of rats recently. Find out if anyone offered to buy rats alive from the rat catchers rather than disposing of them." Prey said as they started up the steps.

"It's somepony. And I don't think they kill the rats. I think they just trap them and then take them somewhere outside Canterlot and release them." Gloom said.

'-but this time, they were released to eat the evidence by some psychopath-', Gloom thought, visibly swallowing.

"What?" Prey asked in surprise, "They don't just kill-? No, of course they don't. Not even vermin." He muttered.

The three of them emerged up into the warehouse. There was a Night Guard thestral standing at the half open warehouse's side door, who turned to look as they came up. On seeing it was the ISND, he nodded and went back to watching the approach from outside.

Crimson took a deep breath of the warehouse air. It was stale, with a tinge of mould, and a thousand times better than the stink of dead flesh.

They looked around. The warehouse looked like a fairly flimsy structure, almost entirely made of light weight wood, with a number of tall supporting pillars rising from the floor to support the flat roof and rafters.

The large pane windows did let in quite a lot of the evening light, so it wasn't difficult to see that there was not much in the warehouse. Comparatively anyway. The stacks of boxes only took up about one fifth of the available floor space.

"I thought it would be fuller." Crimson said, looking around.

"None of those are the same type of crates from the cellar." Gloom said. It was the first thing all three of them had looked for, even if it was unlikely they'd find any. Screech would surely have already mentioned such an obvious clue when he gave the warehouse a once over.

These crates and boxes around them were of a different make to the flat, open topped type they were looking for.

"What's in these crates then?" Gloom asked, stepping up to a selection of boxes that were about twice the size of Prey. They were nailed shut, so it wasn't immediately obvious. Prey read the brand stamped into the side of the crate. "Sanders and Partners inc." He read aloud.

"Who's that supposed to be when they're at home?" Gloom asked.

"No idea, sir." Prey said, moving onto the next crate.

"Crimson?" Gloom tried.

"No sir. No idea either."

"Well, I'm sure this Corporal Humming will have a full list of everyone who stores and sells from this warehouse. We can check all the businesses when she comes back with the list." Prey said. Gloom wasn't even trying to correct him for his use of everybody this time.

"We'll need to investigate all of them then. Starting with which ever ponies uses those flat crates from the cellar. If they're not supplied here... I'm not sure what. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Gloom said with a quiet sigh.

Prey perched himself on a crate, legs dangling. "How about you get some other Night Guards to go and investigate what each of the companies using this warehouse supply? Order them to poke around and try and find if any of them are suspicious. Captain Nighthawk said we could have all the help and any resources we need, remember?"

It looked like Gloom had indeed forgotten that.

The ISND was young, but they were already used to doing all the work alone. Like with Wheat Plow's trial, their reports were the only ones used in the prosecution. Sure, there'd been lots of Night Guards bringing them the information, but it had still very much been the ISND pulling their weight. The Night Guard was too small and overworked for it to be any other way.

"I think by this point it's fairly obvious this griffin is either part of the salt drug trade, or a rival trader. He, or she, killed the ponies who were smuggling in salt hidden in crates, which were brought into this warehouse. They then came through the passage at night, and took the crates full of hidden salt back into the cellar. And now for some reason, they've shut down this part of their operation, and disappeared." Prey said, summing up the basics of what they knew, or at least suspected.

Now that Prey had put it all out there in one go, Gloom had to stop and clearly think about what to do next. However Gloom's thoughts couldn't help but keep going back to cellar across the street. But Gloom did recognise how he was getting side tracked.

'-c'mon Dusky, you need to think beyond that-', Gloom told himself. '-if you can't, this could happen again-'

Prey pretended not to notice as Gloom's eyes flicked to his hoof once again, and shuddered.

'-but how does it all join together? What's the path that'll lead to solving these murders?-', Gloom asked himself, looking around the warehouse.

The unrefined salt, the secret passage way, the dragon, this griffin, the bodies, the cellar, the crates, the disturbance report, the rats, the warehouse, the condemned building, all of it.

'-how do I solve this?-'

'Come on, you need to get over yourself and harden up. I'm not going back to prison because Luna no longer finds me useful.' Prey thought.

'-no-', Gloom thought, angry at himself for forgetting this once again, '-no how do we solve this?-'

"We," Gloom began, "Need a plan."