CRISIS: Equestria
Chapter Three: Investigation
The Mid-South District had probably the best conditions out of all of the Mid Districts in Pandemonium City. It wasn’t as nice or as fancy as the Inner Districts, but it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the slum-like conditions of three-fourths of the Outer Districts. Its skyscrapers were smaller and dirtier than the gleaming skyscrapers of the Inner Districts that towered over the rest of the city. Those were composed of high-rise lofts and penthouses, high-class office buildings and corporation headquarters, the homes of the rich and famous, and where most of the ponies that worked for the government lived to avoid mingling with the ‘common rabble’ that made up the Mid Districts.
Central Plaza, the busiest sub-sector in Mid-South, was as close to those kind of conditions one could hope for. It was very expensive to live here, even though it was ridiculously cheap compared to Utopian prices and much cheaper than trying to make it in the Inner Districts.
What made it so expensive was that all—not some, all—of the most important necessities had their headquarters, their best-equipped centers, or even their only locations, in this sub-sector. The New Pandemonium Police Department’s Central Station was here, as was the main Building for New Pandemonium Registrations and Documentations. There was also the Central Database Holdings, which at Flathoof’s description sounded an awful lot like a library to Twilight Sparkle and was where she’d be going to look for work, and for research. New Pandemonium Medical had its largest clinic here, the Central General Clinic, and the same could be said for General Goods and Groceries and the New Pandemonium Fire Brigade. All of them were conveniently within relative walking distance to anypony that happened to live in any of the four domestic complexes that made up the borders of Central Plaza.
If you didn’t live in Central Plaza? Well, good luck to you. The horrendous travel time to get to the best medical treatment in the city, Inner District excluded, was bad enough.
Exacerbating the issue were the police and fire brigade response times, which were simply atrocious. As Flathoof escorted his group of parolees through the city streets, he explained that on average, it took about fifteen minutes or less for officers from his department to respond to a call from within the Central Plaza itself. Considering that the sub-sector was a few miles square, this was a typical expectation, if slightly slow. If you lived elsewhere in Mid-South, anywhere between thirty and fifty minutes could be expected even in a severe emergency, perhaps sixty minutes if you lived near the Divider Wall. If you lived in either Mid-East or Mid-West, the NPPD Central Station’s record time for responding to an emergency call was ninety minutes, and they’d been known to take twice that long on average. Mid-North? Two hours, minimum. The NPFB was just as bad, and entire neighborhoods had burned down in the past because of similar pathetically-slow response times.
Luckily, NPM did not have the same problem. Their only issue was whether the Clinic in your sub-sector had the proper equipment or experienced personnel that you needed to handle whatever your health issue was. Otherwise, you had to make the trip to NPM Central General. If you were going on your own, this was fine. In the case of a severe emergency, this meant that you’d have to take the time the NPPD or NPFB would take to get to you, and double it.
Back when he'd just been a rookie, Flathoof remembered getting to the scene of a riot in Mid-North nearly thirty minutes after it had ended. Some twenty ponies had needed to be hospitalized, and because of the severity and nature of their injuries, they had to go all the way to Central Plaza to get treatment. Several of them died en route. It was an event that completely changed his outlook on the way the city worked, or rather how it didn’t. It made him rethink the way he would need to work to try and change that.
“The more I go over it in my head, the more I realize that the system just doesn’t function right at all,” Flathoof said. “It baffles me to no end. It’s almost like the city doesn’t want to be organized. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve submitted petitions and suggestions and applications to get things fixed up a little bit, and never got a response.”
“Why don’t they have any smaller stations in the other districts?” Twilight asked. “Surely that would help, wouldn’t it?”
“Oh, they do have other stations. But they’re so understaffed and overworked that Central often responds to more calls from their districts than they do. I’ve considered transferring to another station, but that wouldn’t do any good in the end. I’d be just as overworked as they are and wouldn’t be able to contribute enough to make much difference. Yeah, I know, every little bit counts, but I’m nearly the only officer in this District that seems to have any sort of real moral code. I think I’m doing more good being here than anywhere else. I can’t just up and leave that... not without a really good reason.”
“How ‘bout that other officer that helped us with all that there paperwork? Y’all seemed to trust her,” Applejack asked.
She still seemed slightly miffed as she looked at her ID photo. How that pony had been able to take the picture at just the precise moment needed to make Applejack look like a country bumpkin without half a brain in her head must have boggled her. That kind of precision timing seemed impossible, but if there was one mare that could do it, it was Snapshot.
“Snapshot? She’s a good mare.” Flathoof smiled at the incredulous looks Twilight and Applejack were giving him, and shook his head. “Okay, she’s a bit testy, I’ll admit, but she means well, plus she’s reliable, trustworthy, and knows her way around paperwork. That’s why I went to her instead of going to the other clerks, or worse, the NPRD. It would’ve taken days to get through all the roundabout nonsense they’d put you through. I typically try to avoid working the system to my advantage, but well, you six needed help, and Snapshot knows all the loopholes to go through in order to ensure your files get registered by tonight. You’ll be official citizens in only a few hours, I’d imagine.”
“Is there any particular reason for the rush?” Twilight asked.
Flathoof gave a concerned frown and shook his head. “If you all didn’t have a place to live and such by the end of the day, and with no official documents? Well, the Outer District is mostly ignored by the NPPD, see, so policy is to escort you out there and set you loose until your documents clear. When that happens we’d go looking for you for maybe a few hours, and if we can’t find you, you’re presumed dead or missing. Most of the time the assumption turns out true.”
“Good heavens, you’d just... abandon ponies looking to become citizens here? Atrocious!” Rarity snorted with disgust and stuck her nose in the air. “How does your department live with themselves? And you work for ponies like that?”
The accusation made Flathoof wince. “Look, I don’t make the rules and I certainly don’t like a lot of them. If I had the ability to ensure that everypony that didn’t get their affairs in order quickly enough was still taken care of, believe me, I would. But I only work out here in this District. I don’t work at the Gate District, which is where most of that stuff takes place. I don’t have any authority there either, only the knowledge of what goes on. It’s rare for anypony to end up in a situation similar to yours. I’m still confused how you managed to get all the way into the Mid-Districts looking like you did, without anypony noticing you.”
The six mares shared nervous glances, but let him continue.
“Only in the Inner Districts does anypony really care what happens to one another, and that’s because they have the money to afford the luxury of that. Even then, from what little I’ve seen of the upper crust personally, I think it’s all for show and social bravado. It’s frustrating, being one of the few who has genuine concern.”
He sighed with a great deal of dejection. “Sorry if I’m worrying any of you. I really don’t mean to. It’s hard to see at a glance, but this city is difficult to live in. I’m going to do the best I can for you while you’re under my care, but after that... well, hopefully that’ll get taken care of too. At any rate, we’re here.”
Flathoof gestured to the massive domestic complex that would hold their new home, the Southeast Point, so named because it marked the southeastern corner of the border that surrounded the Central Plaza. It was a great metal building, one hundred stories tall and covering the entire city block. The six mares accompanying him looked up in awe at the sheer size of it. They’d all thought it was other buildings they’d been walking alongside for the past minute, not part of one.
While the place certainly looked habitable, it didn’t look like it was in the greatest shape, and had a lot of things that detracted from the image of a “decent place to live” as they’d been promised: the rust-colored metal looked more like rust; several of the windows were cracked; all the awnings were faded and some were even a different color. It didn’t look dilapidated, but it didn’t look high-rise either, by any means.
Considering the size of the place, Twilight calculated quickly in her head that this building, already at least as big as Canterlot Royal Palace, even if organized differently, likely housed as many ponies as the entire city of Canterlot, if not more. If this was just one building, Twilight thought, how big was the rest of the city? The sheer magnitude of such a population, far greater than she had first predicted from walking the streets of what had turned out to be the outskirts of this large sub-sector, made her head spin. More ponies living in this one city than lived in all of their own Equestria?
Impossible.
The large double doors leading into the building were tinted green, so it wasn’t until they entered that they could see just the kind of place they’d be living. Twilight frowned as she quickly tried to readjust her calculations. If the rest of the floors were organized anything like the lobby, then perhaps more ponies lived here than she initially thought. It was packed tight, and there was barely enough breathing room for everypony in the group as they walked down the main corridor past tiny crowds of other ponies coming and going from the building.
Flathoof directed them to follow him single-file, and at his guidance it didn’t take long to locate the management office. At the reception counter sat an aged earth pony mare with a graying mane and tail. Her large, horn-rimmed glasses reminded Twilight of Rarity’s pair back at home.
She barely bothered to turn her head up from the book she’d been reading to look at the newcomers. “Can I help you?”
Flathoof removed his hat and nodded. “Yes, I phoned earlier to see about speaking with Mister Lockwood. I spoke with a Spring Blossom.”
“That would be me, sonny.” She sighed and put her book down. “I’m assuming you’re Captain Flathoof then? And these are the parolees you mentioned?”
The aging mare eyed the newcomers with mild aversion. The six mares looked like they’d just picked their clothes out of a bin and walked out the door. Not much style or grace at all in the lot. They seemed all fitting enough but none of them looked particularly fashionable. The white one, perhaps, but that was probably neither here nor there.
The orange one wore some sort of cowpony hat and a plaid, brick red work shirt. She looked like she’d just wandered in off the set of a western they were filming out in the Wastelands, or that she worked on one of those “farms” they had down south in Utopia. It was certainly dirty enough that she looked like she’d been working in it.
The blue one had picked out what looked like a flight jacket. It clearly wasn’t originally hers either, so perhaps a hand-me-down or something borrowed or stolen. It was a size too big for her and the sleeves nearly dragged along the floor as she stood there, let alone if she were walking. She was even wearing goggles with brown frames and slightly-cracked, dirty, blue glass.
The purple one was wearing a cape and a sequined vest. The cape wasn’t even fancy or decorated, just a dull blue like the vest, and it was much too short. Like the blue one’s jacket, it probably did not originally belong to her either. Perhaps she was merely a former assistant to a stage magician?
The white one had picked out a frilly, pale pink dress and accented it with a lilac ribbon that at least made her look the most well-dressed in the bunch. It would possibly even be considered elegant were it made of a nicer material. It almost looked like she’d used that unicorn magic of hers to put the outfit together from the scraps of an entire wardrobe.
The yellow one looked not at all keen on being here, and how could one blame her when she was wearing the much-too-attractive baby-blue blouse and skirt? Attractive was probably the wrong word here, actually. Certainly it would attract attention, but perhaps promiscuous would be a better term? The skirt was much too short, as her cutie mark was peeking out almost completely. It was odd, considering she did not seem to like the attention she was getting from the numerous stallions in the room, or the occasional mare here and there.
The pink one was the most unique, which was really the only way to kindly describe her. She looked like she’d literally just set a box on the floor labeled Clothes, filled it with random articles of clothing, leapt in, and wore whatever she came out with. The green propeller cap did not mesh with the black denim jacket with the collar popped much too high, which did not work together with the bright, gaudy yellow t-shirt she wore underneath that had printed on it the logo from a children’s program she probably didn’t even watch. Or worse, actually did watch. Imagine the prospect of a full-grown mare like that watching a show meant for little foals. She wore red roller skates too, which did not help complete her ensemble in any possible way.
Spring Blossom cleared her throat and turned her attention back to Flathoof. “I spoke with Mister Lockwood earlier. He’s just finishing up a meeting with another associate and should be done in a few minutes, then he’ll be right down. He asked me to inform you that he regrets any inconvenience caused by making you wait.” She pointed off to the side, towards a room with a glass door with plenty of seats inside. “You all can wait in the reception area until he gets here. Thank you.”
“Much obliged ma’am.” Flathoof turned back to his entourage. “Come along, ladies. If I know Lockwood, he’ll be down before too long.”
Flathoof held the door to the reception area open for the six mares to enter, then followed them in.
“So, this Lockwood fellow?” Rarity asked as she fluffed the cushion of the seat she was taking. “An owner of this establishment perhaps? He must be a friend of yours, yes?”
“We go back a ways, yes,” Flathoof said. He tugged at his collar and straightened his uniform again for the second time since they’d entered the complex. “We went to school together a long time ago, and he’s been pretty close with my family since then. Anytime I’ve ever needed a favor, he’s been the pony I went to see first. I don’t know how much help he can give me here, but if he can’t do anything directly he’ll at least know somepony who can. Hopefully. He’s usually pretty good about that sort of thing though.”
“He sounds decent enough,” Twilight said. “Any friend of yours can’t be too bad, right?”
Applejack snorted. “Pfh, tell that to Snapshot. I ain’t never met a pony with... with such an attitude before, but if ol’ Flathoof says she’s on the level, well, I s’pose we ‘pparently owe her some thanks.”
Pinkie bounced rapidly up and down next to Rainbow Dash, who was trying to take a nap on a pair of seats since Pinkie obviously wasn’t using hers. “I just hope he’s not all super stuffy and a fuddy-duddy or anything! Then we’d have another guest for the party! Ooh! Does he like chocolate cake, or vanilla? I prefer strawberry myself, because it’s pink and super duper tasty, just like me! Right, Dashie?”
“Yeah yeah, right Pinks.” Rainbow paused a second, then bolted upright. “I mean, right, it’s pink! You’re pink!”
“I just hope he’s... nice...” Fluttershy mumbled. “I... I’ve had my fill of the other kinds of ponies... for more than one day, I think...”
A few moments passed, then a knock came at the reception room door and a pegasus with a rich gray coat walked in. He wore a dull brown rain jacket of a lighter shade than his mud-brown mane and tail, which were neatly combed and short, making him look neat and tidy. He wasn’t particularly well-built, a little on the lanky side actually, but had good posture and a gait that made him look more fit than weak. The one thing, two things, really, that they all noticed most were his golden eyes, mostly because it was a rather odd shade. He certainly looked kind enough.
“Ah, Lockwood!” Flathoof smiled, trotted over, and greeted his friend with a sturdy hoof-shake. “So glad I was able to get a hold of you. I’m sorry I was so hasty on the phone, I was—"
“Yes yes, Flathoof,” Lockwood replied, his smile wide and friendly. “Don’t fret over it. I’m always willing to do a favor for you, you know that. Now then, these are the six mares you told me about?” He looked out over the six mares briefly, giving them each a polite smile. “Utopia, eh? Fancy stuff. I’m surprised they even wanted to come here of all places in Equestria. I suppose I should feel honored.”
“Yes, these are them,” Flathoof said. “What kind of options are we looking at here? Please tell me you’ve got some good news for me.”
“Hmm...” Lockwood tapped his chin, then gave a light-hearted shrug. “Well, you’re in luck. We have some vacancies right now, actually. A few ponies here and there failed to pay their rent... again, and there’s only so much I can do when other ponies aren’t willing to cooperate. Sad to say, but there it is. One of our larger rooms should accommodate them, but it wasn’t actually designed for six so it might be a little... cozy, but it’s all I’ve got on short notice. Now then, the issue of payment.”
Flathoof made to interject, but Lockwood stopped him with a hoof. “I wouldn’t ask right away, but I do have obligations to the owners. Gotta treat this completely legit, you understand. The building is only ten years old, so they’re really watching the numbers to make sure it’s a good investment.”
Flathoof coughed and tugged his collar. “Well... not only are they new in town, but they don’t exactly have any bits on them either. I always thought Utopia used bits too, but maybe I’m mistaken. I was hoping we’d be able to work something out here.”
Lockwood pat Flathoof on the shoulder. “Say no more. There are enough loopholes in the city’s paperwork and tax code that I can probably work out something to get them their first month rent free, or at the very least until they find work. I’d suggest they start looking for jobs right away though. Does that sound reasonable?”
“Incredibly.” Flathoof turned to the mares and grinned. “Right, ladies?”
“Oh, most definitely,” Twilight said. “Thank you for your help, Mister Lockwood. We really appreciate it.”
“Please, just Lockwood will do,” Lockwood said. “I’m only ‘Mister’ when I’m doing real business, and this is a favor for my good friend Flathoof. I always take great pride in helping those I care about, and there’s no exception here.”
He clasped his hooves together. “Now then, before I show you all to your new abode and let you get adjusted and all that, I believe some introductions are in order. Seeing as I’ll be your landlord for the next, well, however long you’re here, I feel it’d be good to get to know you all a little better. As has been established, my name is Lockwood.” He bowed politely and offered his hoof out to Twilight. “And you are?”
“Introductions, yes, of course.” Twilight nodded and politely shook his hoof in return. “I’m Twilight Sparkle, and these are my friends Applejack—"
“Howdy,” Applejack said, shaking Lockwood’s hoof.
“Rarity—"
“Charmed.” Rarity offered her hoof to Lockwood first. He smiled and gave it a very dainty shake.
“Rainbow Dash—"
“Hey.” Rainbow shook Lockwood’s hoof very briefly.
“Fluttershy—"
“Um... hello...” Fluttershy nodded politely, but did not offer her own hoof and instead scuffed it nervously on the carpet.
“And—"
Pinkie pouted. “Heeey, why’d I have to go last this time?” Then, the pout turned into a huge grin. “Wait, that means I’m the grand finale! Woo!” She bounced a few times and pointed at Twilight triumphantly. “Saving the best for last, I like your way of thinking, Twilight!”
Twilight balked. “Uh...”
“Hiya, super-cool new friend!” Pinkie said, grabbing Lockwood’s hoof with both of her own and shaking it, and him, vigorously. “I’m Pinkie Pie! I’m the bestest best party pony this side of the moon, and probably the other side too!”
As soon as Lockwood was back on solid ground, he straightened his jacket and laughed. “Such a colorful group. A pleasure to meet all of you.” He smiled and pushed open the reception area door to usher them out. “Now then, let’s go see your room, shall we?”
They followed Lockwood out of the reception area with Flathoof taking up the rear, and after a short trot down the entry hallway they entered the main stairwell and began the climb up several flights of steps to their new home.
Several floors later, the ponies were totally exhausted and didn’t think they could keep climbing. Stair, after stair, after stair, after stair, it seemed to go on forever and ever. The stairs were dusty, musty, and not at all pleasant, it was cramped and dry, and it was a long climb. Their appreciation for the generously given home was slowly beginning to diminish, as much as they all hated to admit those kinds of thoughts.
Eventually it got to the point where they could not hold their tongues and had to say something.
“Geez, what are we on, the eight-billionth floor?” Rainbow fluttered just barely above the stairs, and had been doing so for the past thirty floors. “I can’t believe we’re probably gonna have to do this every day. No wonder all the ponies around here look so fit.”
“Are we there yet?”
“It is good exercise,” said Lockwood, who seemed none the worse for wear. His stride hadn’t diminished at all, and by now he was several steps ahead of the rest of them. “You’ll get used to it soon enough. I know I sure had to, and I tell you, I used to live on a higher floor than this in a much bigger complex. At least once you know where your room is, if one of your friends is home you can always just fly up to the window and they can let you in.“
“Are we there yet?”
“Golly, I ain’t had this kind of a work-out in ages, easily not since last Applebuckin’ season.” Applejack removed her hat and briefly fanned herself with it when they got to the top of the next flight, losing her position in the line to Twilight. “I reckon this’ll be a mighty fine replacement fer buckin’ apple trees, at least fer now. Doin’ a lap or two up ‘n’ down should be the same as buckin’ near half o’ Sweet Apple Acres. How the rest o’ y’all holdin’ up back there? Heh heh, ya ain’t feelin’ tired now, are ya Rarity?”
“Are we there yet?”
Rarity panted, completely out of breath. “I hate stairs...” She’d fallen totally behind, with Flathoof purposefully trailing just behind her. “Hate... stairs... I’m going to... take out all the stairs... in my boutique... hate stairs... so many stairs... going to have nightmares about climbing stairs... so many cobwebs... dust... stairs are dirty... hate stairs...”
“Are we there yet?”
“Um... phew...” Fluttershy kept her response short not out of shyness but of desire to conserve breath.
“It’s not... so bad,” Twilight said, huffing and puffing with every stair. Applejack had caught back up by now and passed her again. “I know I need the exercise, that’s for sure. Maybe not this much, but Spike was always saying I should get out more. Though... I think I might chalk this up to filling out most of my weekly allotted exercise. Phew! I just wish there was better ventilation. Rarity’s right, it is a bit dusty...”
“Are we there yet?”
“I wish you’d told me they were this high up, Lockwood.” Now, even Flathoof began to complain. “I don’t get out as much as I did when I was on the beat. Haven’t had to do this much physical work on-duty in a while. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
“Are we there yet?”
“Me?” Lockwood chuckled. “I believe it was you who were calling in asking for a favor. You’d do well to appreciate the work I’m gonna have to go through to make this all turn out smoothly. Don’t tell me you’re getting tired back there, Mister ‘Toughest Roughest Lawpony in Pandemonium’. Heh heh.”
“Are we there yet?”
“PINKIE PIE!” Rainbow belted, snapping her head around to face the pink pony that had been literally bouncing up every single stair and wasn’t showing signs of stopping. “If you ask one more time, I’ll—"
“We’re here!” Lockwood exclaimed as he held Rainbow in place. He pointed at their door, where he read from a little gold plaque that read 84-5:00. “Room eighty-four and five. Those first two numbers are your floor number, the eighty-fourth. The third is your room position on the floor, which means you’re in the five o’clock position, assuming the building entrance is at twelve o’clock and the hour hand is pointing at the plaque on your door.”
“Well that’s a pretty orderly numbering convention,” Twilight said. “Though it’s a little confusing with that last bit. You use a clock face to determine room numbers? Makes it easy to figure out your room if you forget the number I suppose.”
“If only all the rooms were as neatly positioned as yours.” Lockwood pointed at their neighbor’s door, which read 84-6:30.
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Eighty-four and... six thirty?”
Lockwood shrugged. “The landlord, that’s me, lives in room sixteen and eight forty-five. The superintendent lives in room two and four twenty-eight. Not four thirty, not four twenty-five, but specifically twenty-eight, because that’s where the door plaque is. Somepony made a mistake when they built it, numbering scheme stuck, so there it is. No rhyme or reason at all in it. I mean, we almost didn’t even come to agreement on how to decide the twelve o’clock position in the first place. Somepony wanted the room closest to the stairwell on each floor to be the twelve o’clock room. Can you imagine?”
Twilight shook her head in disbelief. “Well why don’t they just name the rooms by a simple numerical system?”
Lockwood shrugged. “Because nopony could agree on who got to be room whatever-whatever one, or if maybe it should be zero-one since there are more than ten rooms on every tenth floor, or if maybe we should start with zero-zero, or if we should call that double-zero, or this or that and something else blah, blah, blah.
“Nopony seems to take cooperation lightly, I tell you. I asked the same thing when I moved in. Half, no, probably most of the things in this city don’t make a lick of sense when you really look at it. So either you just gotta grin and bear it, or you learn to ignore it. Unless you think you’ve got the money to get a flight to Utopia, and if you can’t afford that then there’s at least Hope’s Point.”
He looked at Twilight and raised an eyebrow. “Well now hang on, aren’t you from Utopia? Why in heaven’s name would you all want to leave? I’ve been trying to save up for a trip there for nearly five years.”
“My theory is they’re actually refugees from the Wastelands. We just used that Utopia cover story to get through the paperwork,” Flathoof explained. “Sorry I didn’t mention it earlier, but I didn’t want anypony to know. Didn’t want to have to start filling out criminal backgrounds and medical histories because some clerk thought they’d got some sort of mutation out there. They didn’t look dangerous or anything, and they seemed like they needed a good home. I had to help, you understand.”
“Hmm... they look a little too healthy to be refugees...” Lockwood said, running his hoof under his chin. Twilight gave him a nervous smile as he looked at her particularly. He then shrugged and waved it off. “Well, if they are refugees, I’m more than willing to help them get back on their hooves and into a relatively safe environment. If they’re not, then I suppose they have their reasons for their secrecy. But that’s all something to concern myself with later. You all look tired. So ladies, without further adieu, your castle awaits.”
He placed a key into the lock and pushed the door open, gesturing for them to enter. Their new home was... well, Lockwood had called it cozy, and he had said it wasn’t really built for six ponies. That seemed all the more accurate once they got in. It looked like it was built more for three or four at best. It was a fairly decent-sized apartment if two ponies were to share it, and even with four it would likely seem a little cramped but still very liveable. With six, it made it feel more like a hovel than a home.
But, it was free for now if Lockwood came through on his promises, and it was being generously given simply because they happened to meet the right two ponies. Luck was a finicky mistress, but sometimes she worked in mysterious ways.
“Ech...” Rarity blanched, still trying to catch her breath and shake cobwebs and dust from her mane and tail. “Ponies live in this filth? Please tell me this room just hasn’t been cleaned recently... or ever. At least then I’ll believe the mess I’m seeing here.”
“Actually, that’s true,” Lockwood said. He took on a solemn tone and gestured towards one of the bedrooms. “We weren’t allowed to clean up after the murder. The police wouldn’t let us. I mean, it’s already been a full day. We should be allowed to clean up, right Flathoof? Twenty-four hours is the policy, isn’t it?”
The six mares stared at him in disbelief, jaws dropped. Fluttershy audibly whimpered and hid behind Applejack, hoping the bigger, stronger mare would protect her from whatever might be lurking around the nearest corner. None of the six could believe what they’d just heard. Death was a natural thing in their world, and even though they knew there were bad ponies out there even back home that might inflict it upon others out of malice, they didn’t expect that to be a common occurrence around here.
“Kidding!” Lockwood chuckled, waving his hooves defensively in front of him. “Just... just kidding. A joke! Ha ha? Oh come on, as if I’d give you a room that somepony’d been murdered in only a day before. Ha ha! Ha?” He frowned. “Okay no really, why isn’t anypony laughing? Seriously, I use that same joke on everypony that has ever moved in and you six are the first ones not to laugh.”
Twilight gulped and tried to smile. “Is that something you have to deal with around here? We... aren’t really accustomed to... that sort of thing.”
“What, murder?” Flathoof frowned and adjusted his hat. “I wish I could say we never had to deal with it at all, but in fact it’s quite the opposite. I think we’ve had maybe seven equicide calls this week, and that’s a pretty low number. Sure, it’s not the weekend yet... but... I’m not helping things am I?”
Lockwood interjected, as the whole group was looking more and more distressed. “Listen, this is the safest District in the whole city apart from the Inner Districts, but that’s cheating to compare us to them. We haven’t had anything like that happen at Southeast Point in months. And it wasn’t anything like... wow, okay I’m not helping matters either...”
Fluttershy sniffed and huddled in closer to Applejack and Rarity. “T-this place is s-s-scarier than I thought...”
Rarity rubbed Fluttershy’s back and held the trembling pegasus close. “Now now, darling, I’m sure it’ll all be okay. Come on, let’s focus on getting our new home cleaned up a little, hmm? Take your mind off all those scary things...”
Pinkie bounced excitedly around the room, sending up clouds of dust wherever she landed. “Yeah! We need to get all the decorations set up for our housewarming party! Let’s see, I need streamers, balloons and... uh... hang on.” She reached a hoof into her mane and pulled out a small piece of paper. “Streamers, balloons, and... aha! A cake, some ice cream, soda pop... I think maybe like a dozen big bottles of soda pop since we’ve gotta get all super hydrated after that climb! Right, and then there’s the candy, and the cookies, and a jukebox, and—"
“Pinks, we’ve got more important things to worry about. Besides, this place doesn’t look like it would have room for one of your parties anyhow,” Rainbow said, gesturing around the room.
Pinkie tapped her hoof to her chin and bit her tongue. “Hmm... are we talking one of my Super Duper Awesome Big Birthday Bash Parties, or my Ultra Fun Best Friends Forever Parties? Because then well duh, I know we don’t have room for either of those, silly, but this isn’t one of those kinds of parties anyway. This feels more like a Welcome Everypony Welcome Party, but depending on the area of the room and the dimensions I have to work with, I might be able to fit in a Totally Amazing Radical Blast Party, assuming that the room is a perfect square and that we have enough pi to go around.”
Pinkie waggled her eyebrows at Dash, expecting a laugh. Rainbow groaned loudly instead.
“Did Pinkie Pie just invoke mathematics in party planning? And a math pun?” Twilight’s eye began twitching. “How would that... what could you... is there even...” Her eyes crossed. “Oh dear, I think I’m getting a headache...”
“Besides, where am I gonna find a break-dancing floor at this time of night?” Pinkie laughed as she sidled up close to Rainbow and gave her a big hug. “Anyway, even if I can’t fit in enough room for a Little Itty Bitty Teeny Tiny ‘Just Us Friends’ Housewarming Party, we can always have our own little private party later, Dashie! Always plenty of room for one of those!”
Rainbow turned red. “P-Pinkie Pie, geez!”
Lockwood looked between the two of them. “What’s all this talk about parties?”
“The pink one’s special talent is throwing parties,” Flathoof whispered. “So, she likes parties. A lot. And singing. And dancing. And games. And parties, did I mention parties? Yes, we went over this a lot back at the station.” He subtly twirled his hoof in a circular motion around his ear, taking care not to let her or her friends notice.
“Ahhh...” Lockwood nodded in total understanding. “Well, ladies, what say we start getting your home all spruced up, hmm?”
***
Today had probably been the most stressful and tiresome day Snapshot had ever had to endure in her two years as a desk clerk for the NPPD. If Flathoof weren’t such an eligible bachelor, she’d have passed it on to her co-worker. All that work and hassle wasn’t really worthwhile, but doing little favors like that here and there for Flathoof? She hoped it might get her in his good graces, so that maybe he’d want to get in her “good graces”.
Snapshot sighed dejectedly as she eyed the clock on the wall. One more hour. That’s how much longer it was for her to finish her shift at this droll job. Then she could get back home, where she could relax, have some much-needed alone time, and try to get some work done on her reading. Specifically, a rather steamy novel she'd picked up down at Blazing Saddles—a completely reputable establishment, by the way—by the name of Fifty Shades of Hay.
She eyed the mare working at the desk to her right, a pink pegasus with a tacky dye job that gave her silvery white mane streaks of gold. Firecracker. Snapshot wished the blasted mare would just up and fly away and never darken these halls again with her bow-legged, hip-swaggering, eyelash-batting, obviously-had-a-wing-job self. The hussy was always stealing all the good-looking stallions in the department, letting them rut her, getting some good words in with higher-ups to get a pay raise, then leaving the saps behind.
It wasn’t fair. Snapshot knew that she had seen Goldenstar first, that she had been flirting with him so casually in the breakroom, and that she had asked him out! Firecracker had even been sitting just a table or two away in the cafeteria when she did it! And then the jerk went and broke it off at the last second, after Snapshot had gone through hours of making herself look presentable, attractive, and desirable. The next day, he was over there at Firecracker’s desk, playing with her mane and whispering sweet nothings in her ear. Just the first in the long line of stallions she’d seen at that desk, and it was always a different one!
Snapshot sighed in dejected disapproval. It was her own fault, really. Ever since she made it on the force she’d been trying to get the attention of one of the stallions around the department, and learned the hard way that most of them were really not worth her time: crooks, liars, cheats, sneaks, and perverts the lot of them! She was desperate, but not that desperate. There were only a few stallions left on the entire force that were worth any attention, at least physically and mentally, but they just had to be in relationships already. That was just the way things worked, wasn’t it though? That all the good-looking, well-mannered stallions were the ones taken?
Except one. And he didn’t seem interested at all in anypony, and hadn't been for as long as she’d known him. Of all the rotten luck, that the most good-hearted and certainly broadest stallion in the entire force was just not looking for a special somepony. Snapshot would give anything for Flathoof to look at her the way she looked at him, and cursed the fact that she’d probably drifted so far into the friend zone by now that she’d need a map and three weeks of supplies just to find her way out.
“Oh Captain, my Captain...” Snapshot muttered to herself, pressing her face into her desk.
As much as she wanted him to be hers, she knew that being hopeful and ignoring other opportunities was worse than noticing the little things in life and trying to find love elsewhere.
The doors of the office slid open, and a pegasus strode into the room, his steps measured and confident. With each stride, his lithe muscles pressed against his impeccable black suit. A perfectly straight, black tie tucked neatly into his jacket. His sleek, pale blue fur caught the light of the room just right, causing his coat to almost ripple in the glare.
With a single smooth motion, he slicked his dark-blue mane back with a hoof and flexed his long wings. He took one brief look around the room, eyeing the two mares in front of him especially. Then, by stepping forward towards Snapshot's desk, he quite literally walked into her life.
In an instant, Captain Flathoof sweeping her off her feet was a distant memory. Was her hair straight? No smudges on her glasses? Her breath was okay, wasn’t it?
“You must be Officer—" The well-dressed pegasus looked at a report file he had open, then glanced back at her. “Snapshot, correct?”
“Uh-huh,” she murmured dreamily. She quickly shook her head. “I mean... ahem... y-yes, that’s me. How can I help you, Mister...?”
He showed her his badge, which had his name on it with a badge number and everything. Snapshot knew she’d recognized that uniform. If all of the CIA’s agents looked this good, maybe she’d consider applying sometime after she had more on her resume. She certainly had the broad knowledge of the system’s inner workings that she knew was one of their requirements. All she lacked was experience.
“Sparkwalker. Agent Sparkwalker,” he said. “I’m with the Committee Investigation Agency. I need to speak with you about a recent registration you filed in regards to some suspicious information.”
“Oh? Which one?
“Which six.”
Sparkwalker plopped the report file on her desk, allowing her to see all the contents. Snapshot’s eyes widened. Wow, the CIA sure works fast.
Those six mares that had been here only a few hours before. The paperwork had literally been teleported to the NPRD not more than three hours ago. Snapshot had never heard of anything that made the CIA this interested, and that worried her. What if Flathoof was in trouble, and these six mares were criminals? Terrorists? Spies?
“I recognize them, yes,” she said, mirroring his quiet tone. “What kind of information do you need?”
“Is there somewhere more private we can talk?” he asked.
She couldn’t be positive, but she was certain he had darted his eyes to look at Firecracker to be sure she hadn’t heard anything. The sunglasses he was wearing prevented Snapshot from following his gaze clearly. Why was he wearing sunglasses in Pandemonium anyway, and inside as well? Maybe that was part of the uniform. But why was she worrying about that? He wanted the two of them to be alone. She got the feeling that this was going to be her lucky day.
Ah, opportunity, how loud your knock can be.
“Certainly. Follow me.”
She waved for him to follow her towards the back of the clerk office. The pegasus followed her into the staff room, and after making sure nopony was coming this way, she closed and locked the door behind them. Ah, privacy.
“So... what’s this all about?” she asked, taking a seat in the cozy chair on one side of the office.
Agent Sparkwalker remained standing for the moment, near enough that she could actively drink in all his features as he reached into his suit pockets. He took out a small notepad, set it on the table just out of her sight, then sat a pen upon that. Business before pleasure.
Sparkwalker took a seat directly across from her and picked up his notepad with one wing, his pen with the other. Snapshot found herself impressed that a pegasus could do something so delicate with his wings. Hopefully that’s not the only thing he can do with those.
“The Committee is concerned about the status of their case file,” he said, shaking her out of her thoughts. “It would seem that Police Chief Smokestack applied for a pay increase that arrived barely five minutes after these six forms came in. Normally, this wouldn’t be too troubling. Smokestack does this kind of thing all the time, does he not?”
She pointed a hoof at herself. “A-are you asking me? I don’t get involved much with the Chief’s business...”
“Hmm...” Sparkwalker nodded and jotted down a short note. Snapshot was suddenly nervous that that piece of information had been important. “No matter, this is about these six Ponies of Interest anyway. Our department is concerned with the speed at which their forms were filed and documented, and we suspect that perhaps the Chief was rushing things along just to get a wage increase, and may have... overlooked things concerning them. Now, your name is on the form as the Identification Photographer and as their File Clerk, so I believe it’s safe to assume you had some interaction with them?”
“Ah... y-yes, I did.” She was now extremely nervous that he would learn that she’d sped the paperwork along at Flathoof’s request, not the Chief’s. Would he get in trouble?
“If it’s okay with you then, I’d like to ask you a few questions about them. You can tell me some details about them, yes?”
“I... I hope so. What’s this all about anyway? I mean... n-not to pry...”
“Committee business. Classified.”
“Please? A... fellow officer I know is their parole officer. I want to make sure he’ll be okay, sir.”
Sparkwalker stared at her, but with those sunglasses on his face it was hard to tell. “His name?”
“Flathoof. Captain Flathoof.”
“I’ll make sure we take care of him should the need arise.” He cracked his neck before continuing, “Now then, let’s start at the top according to the order you filled the forms out, based on your time-stamps. First, Twilight Sparkle. What can you tell me about her?”
“Real bossy, seemed well-educated,” Snapshot said. She didn’t bother hiding a slight sneer. “Probably the brains of the group, if you ask me.” She put a hoof to her lips. “Oh... I’m sorry, I know I’m not supposed to figure my personal opinions into this...”
Sparkwalker smiled and nodded appreciatively. “While I didn’t ask, your information is invaluable and will help our investigation. Please, feel free to relax and speak candidly. I know we have a lot of information on these forms, but don’t feel like anything is redundant. Normally we don’t hold any interest in the personal opinions of those we interview... but we’re making a special case about this one. It may help us understand the psyche of these six, you understand?”
“Y-yes, sir.”
“And drop the ‘sir’ nonsense. Just Sparkwalker, if you please, Snapshot.”
She turned pink and tried to hide her smile behind a hoof. “R-right. Sparkwalker.”
They were already on first-name basis. She wasn’t used to the idea of a CIA agent being so informal. That was a major part of their job, being rigid and uncooperative. But, maybe this one liked her? Maybe if she played her cards right she’d have plans tonight.
Snapshot continued, more candidly as asked. “Well, she was kind of a busybody, asking all sorts of questions and trying to learn more about the city. I mean, sure I guess that makes sense if you’re not from around here, but still... the others weren’t quite as inquisitive or even interested. They just left the work to her. She said she used to work as a librarian, so if I had to venture a guess she’ll probably look for work at the CBH or something similar. I put in a recommendation at... the Chief’s request,” she lied.
Sparkwalker nodded and jotted down more notes. “Hmm... go on then, the next pony, Rarity. She appears to be posing for this picture?”
“Yeah, she insisted on making it a glamour shot,” Snapshot said. “I’ll be fair, she has a good look to her and if it weren’t for the stupid jumpsuit she might look pretty charming. Really snooty though, kind of gave me a hard time in making sure I was getting all her physical details right. Seemed like a neat-freak. Kept insisting she was a fashion designer back home which struck me as extremely odd, since they weren’t wearing any clothes when they got arrested according to the reports I attached. I mean, who ever heard of a fashion designer wandering around naked, not even like a scarf or a bow or anything? Contradictory, yeah? You’d think she’d be wearing something at all times even if we didn’t have that law. Self-advertisement, that kind of thing?”
“Observant. Let’s see... Fluttershy. She looks like she didn’t want to take the picture at all. Did she give you a hard time?”
Snapshot laughed and waved her hoof playfully. “Oh brother, it took me three times longer to get her form filled out. She was very uncooperative. I had to ask every question at least twice to be able to hear her. Really quiet, really shy, kind of spoke in peeps and mumbles and always tried to avoid making eye contact. Kind of cute in a way, so she probably gets a lot of lookers back where she comes from. Said she was a veteran-arian, whatever the hay that is. Something to do with the military? Veterans and all that? Does Utopia even have a military anymore?”
“Animals.”
“An army... of animals?” Snapshot raised an eyebrow and nervously smiled. “Please tell me you’re kidding...”
Sparkwalker blinked, then laughed. “Oh... no no, a veterinarian. They’re like doctors, but for animals instead of ponies. Common practice over in Utopia is what I hear. Moving on then. Pinkie Pie. Is she doing the crossed-eyes on purpose, or does she have some sort of condition?”
“Yes, on purpose. And what a mouth that one’s got. Just would not shut up.” She lifted a hoof and started shaking it around. “Yap yap yap yap yap. Gave me such roundabout, long answers to so many of the questions. She told me this ridiculous story when I asked her about her special talent. Some spiel about a rock farm and a party, then claimed it was like an origin myth or something! Not right in the head that one, but she made me a little suspicious, and not just because she seemed a few cards short of a full deck, either.”
Sparkwalker leaned forward. “Oh? Go on.”
“Well, while everypony else in the group said they were from Utopia right away, and Twilight Sparkle even added their ridiculous district into it. Pfft, Ponyville, still makes me laugh. Anyway, this Pinkie Pie character, she kind of hesitated a little. It was a really subtle pause, so I wouldn’t have noticed it if she hadn’t been such a motor mouth otherwise. Made me think she really, really wanted to say something else and realized her mistake just before she made it all in the fraction of, like, a second.
“Now that I think about it, so did that orange one, Applejack was it?” Snapshot asked. Sparkwalker nodded. “She didn’t say Utopia right away either, seemed kind of pained that she had to do it. Makes me think maybe their story isn’t as true as they claim. Nothing gets past my sleuth sense.” She smiled, crossed her hooves, and leaned back in her chair, feeling very proud of herself.
“Very astute. I’ll make note of your suspicions.” Sparkwalker gave her a polite smile. “You’ve been very helpful so far Snapshot, thank you.”
She frowned. “Oh... are we done?”
“Oh no, not quite yet, just thought I’d thank you for being so helpful to my investigation.”
He tilted his sunglasses down slightly so that she could see him wink. Snapshot turned red and coughed into her hoof. She felt rather embarrassed that he was pushing all the right buttons, and a little nervous that he knew what buttons to push. For half a second, she felt anxious about this whole thing. Was this the right thing to do?
“Now then, the next one. Rainbow Dash?”
“Really full of herself, big ego, took everything I said as a challenge,” Snapshot said, trying to regain her composure. “Fastest flier in Equestria? Really? That I find difficult to believe. When I said as much, she started getting a little riled up like she wanted to prove it right then and there. I’ve seen some pretty fast fliers in the NPPD, and she didn’t look like anything special. And her response to my asking about it was that she’s the only pony to ever pull off a ‘Sonic... Rainboom’? What the hay is that? Some sort of sonic boom mixed with a rainbow? How would you even do that? Seems physically impossible to me.
“Oh, and if you look under Alias I noted ‘Dashie’ as a nickname rather than a preferred name. The pink pony kept calling her that, and was the only pony doing it that I could see. I don’t know, I got kind of a weird vibe from the two, like maybe they’re... y’know... more than friends?”
Sparkwalker nodded intently at that point and jotted extra lines. “Possible sexual interrelations amongst the group. Interesting. Hmm... well, one more then. Tell me more about this Applejack.”
“Don’t even get me started on her,” Snapshot said, sticking her nose in the air. “Urgh, I saw the way she was looking at Flathoof... n-not that that matters,” she added so that Sparkwalker wouldn’t get the wrong idea. Even if it was the right idea, she didn’t want him to think it was. “He’s my friend is all... so I don’t want to see him get hurt because some Utopian jezebel gives him that look and thinks she can just waltz in and flutter her eyelashes and land the most prized stallion of the NPPD in her bunk when I’ve been...
“Anyway,” she continued, coughing into her hoof, “she was honest enough. She didn’t have any problem answering everything straight away, except that Utopia bit I mentioned earlier. Had a real thick accent that I’ve never heard before, made it hard to get everything understood at first. Had to have her tone down a lot of the bigger words too. She must be the dumb muscle, that’s my guess.”
“Yes, very good.” He nodded appreciatively as he wrote down the last few notes, then glanced into the folder of reports again. “I understand they also filed domicile registration forms? You wouldn’t happen to have a copy of them anywhere, would you? There’s a note here about it, but the NPRD must’ve processed them separately.”
“Oh... sorry, I don’t have one.” She frowned and rubbed her temple. “Really? They didn’t get that to you yet though? That must mean it’s still in processing. Your department should get it in a few hours, I hope. I rushed it along pretty well. I’m surprised the other forms got to you guys that fast, really. I’ve never heard of paperwork being processed so quickly.”
“I was hoping I could get a copy sooner than that,” he said. “We are in hot pursuit of these mares, you see. I can’t tell you exactly why, of course, but I assure you that the faster I can find out where they are or where they may be headed, the faster I can catch up to them and find out what exactly they’re doing.”
Snapshot frowned. If Agent Sparkwalker was delayed, it might be putting Flathoof at risk, and she didn’t like the fact that she would be partly responsible. As much as she was attracted to this new pony, she still cared for the Captain, and wanted to make sure nothing happened to him.
She nodded. “I... I can remember some of the things on the forms I filled out. Not every detail, but I assume anything would help, right?”
“Most assuredly,” he said. ”Any assistance you can give me in my investigation will be greatly appreciated.”
“Well, hmm... I remember a name... um... Southeast... P-something. Park? Place?”
“Point?”
Snapshot pointed a hoof at him in acknowledgement.
Sparkwalker jotted the name down on his notepad. “Southeast Point. I recognize the name. Most suspicious that they would be able to get a room so quickly in the busiest, most expensive part of the District, and with a record even.”
Snapshot frowned again. She had to come clean on this one. “Well, Captain Flathoof is the one who helped them get it. He said he had a friend who was in well with the owners... Lock... something. He was just trying to help, I don’t think he suspects anything about them at all. Oh, I’m sorry, that’s all I can remember...”
“Hmm... perhaps they’ve fooled your good friend better than you thought. But I’m getting ahead of myself. A few more questions before we’re all finished here. First, apart from what you mentioned specifically about them each individually, did you notice anything suspicious about them as a group?”
“Well, like I said, their home sounded a little odd. I mean... Ponyville? Has to be a made-up name, and a really lame one at that. Next thing you know we’ll be hearing about vacations in Fillyberg, or celebrities living in Stalliontown and buying beachfront property in Colt City. Pfft...”
He gave her a knowing smile. “So you don’t think they’re from Utopia?”
She nervously tapped her hooves together. “Well... I mean... no, I don’t. But where else can they be from? The Wastelands? Like... like refugees or something? They didn’t look violent...” she said, though she was still suspicious and knew that appearances could be deceiving. “And, they seemed healthy enough, physically at least. No mutations or deformities or anything.
“Still, I mean, how could they be from Utopia? They’d have had to take an aerial route, and surely they would’ve been told they needed clothes here. Plus, I know we don’t just give out identification cards, but the NPRD has a station at the Gate. How’d they get past it and into the city without going through that? Seems odd. That’s really all I know.”
“Very valid observations.” Sparkwalker smiled as he wrote down additional notes, then replaced the notepad and pen into his pockets. “Our department was thinking much the same. We just needed confirmation of our information, and it is good to hear we are not alone in our suspicions. You’d make a fine addition to the CIA one day, were you ever so inclined,” he added with a wink. “I’d put in my personal recommendation, even. And, one final question, Snapshot.”
“Yes?”
Sparkwalker leaned forward in his chair and smoothly reached out a hoof to take hold of her own. She looked briefly at the point of contact, then swiftly back to him. He tilted his sunglasses, exposing his eyes fully at last, and gave her a smoky look and a flirtatious smirk. “When do you get off?”
“I... I beg your pardon?”
She must have misheard that. No, he still had that coy grin on his face, like he was trying to remove her uniform with his eyes. It made her feel anxious. Vulnerable. Wanted.
He leaned further forward and wheeled his chair along with him so that their faces were close together. “Must be lonely, working these late nights here at the police station day after day. Must be exhausting... you must crave the feeling of release when your shift is up. I’m afraid I’ve probably kept you well past your normal hours. I’ll make sure you don’t get in trouble with payroll over it.”
“I... s-suppose.”
She blushed a deep red, trying her best to keep her cool. Too fast. This was happening too fast. Should she feel worried? Relieved? She’d given up opportunities worse than this for dumber reasons, and she was not about to pass up this stallion just because she felt it was a little too impulsive.
Sparkwalker smiled and removed his sunglasses, neatly placing them into the jacket of his tidy black suit. She became slightly distracted by getting to see his eyes in full. A vivid green, very pretty. She almost didn’t hear him speak, but then again she wasn’t paying much attention to his words so much as his actions. Was she daydreaming again? All that flirting... it had been real? She was worried she was looking for signals that weren’t there, or that he was just using the advances to try and weasel more information out of her, a tactic she admitted worked even if it wasn’t intentional.
“You look so pent up,” he said, his breath hot on her neck. “You look so tense. Please, allow me to help ease that tension, even if for just a moment...”
Strong hooves on her shoulders, keeping her in place. A tender caress. This was so sudden... too sudden. But she didn’t want it to stop, he was so perfect and she was so willing. She chose to forgo any sense of worry. Any sense of wondering, “why would a stallion like this be interested in me?” was completely gone. She couldn’t care any less.
He was doing so much with those hooves of his that she’d completely fallen out of her reality and became entranced in this living fantasy, such that nothing mattered anymore. It was not her first kiss, but it may as well have been. He was so delicate, not at all rough, sloppy, or dulled like some of her previous boyfriends had been. She barely even noticed him unfastening his tie, or unbuttoning her uniform. Things were moving so fast. They’d only just met.
It was just like one of her steamy romance novels. The suave spy flies in and sweeps the maiden off her hooves, rescuing her from her tedious, bored life and bringing her to new heights. Right from beginning, to the now-middle, and she was hoping soon, the end.
“Mmph...” She moaned into his kiss. “B-but... I hardly even—"
“If you want to think of this as your dream come true, then by all means,” he whispered, giving a low laugh that made her heart flutter.
It’s like he knows.
Sparkwalker roughly pulled her out of her chair, and she found herself pinned heavily on the floor of the office on top of the rounded floral-patterned rug. She’d never been more glad that the door was locked and that the windows were tinted. Her glasses fogged at his hot breath, and for a moment she forgot herself and found she was unable to resist pleading for his advances, her own hooves gripping at his mane and chest. She could feel his smile on her neck. Taste his voice.
“One last thing, Snapshot.”
“Y-yes... w-what?”
“Have you told anypony else what you’ve told me here today?”
“N-nopony. Please... b-be gentle...”
“No promises...”
First, she felt the tenderness of a kiss upon her neck.
Then, a blade abruptly pierced her carotid artery.
Now, a severe, blinding pain. A hoof over her mouth silenced a muted scream. She looked up into his heartless green eyes, into his sadistic smile. His coat and mane colors dulled. No, that was her vision doing that. It started to fade into black. The blood loss was making her woozy. She tried to buck out of his grip, but she couldn’t find the strength. She tried to cry out for help, but no sound came. The agony was unbearable. It bled far beyond physical pain.
She felt like she’d just committed some great sin. And, by thinking she was helping him, she felt she’d likely just endangered the one pony she now wished she’d never been distracted from.
Flathoof... I...
“Shhhhh.” He cooed into her ear and stroked her mane. “It’ll allllll be over soon, my little shutterbug. Shhhh. Now, be a sweetheart for me, just close your eyes. That’s a good girl.”
Snapshot’s eyes dimmed as the last of her life drained away in a pool of blood on the rug, staining it a deep, dark red.
He smiled a toothy, maddened grin as he stood over her lifeless body, and cracked his neck as if a great load of stress flowed out of him. He enjoyed his work. The little twitches of the victim as they felt their life’s blood just drip, drip, drip away. The flickers of emotion that sparked in their eyes as their hearts stopped. To him it was like a beautiful mural, with himself the artist, his victim the canvas, and their blood the paint. It was an almost excruciating high, the knowledge that another soul’s flame had been snuffed from the world. He relished the particular taste of having denied her a great desire when it was mere inches from her grasp.
The euphoria passed after but a moment. His features hardened as he set himself back into his work, rather than his pleasure. What was important now was getting rid of the evidence. Snapshot had needed to disappear, lest she tell other ponies about a CIA agent asking her questions about those six new citizens they’d just registered. This would attract all sorts of attention, and perhaps the officer accompanying them, this “Flathoof”, would somehow catch word of it and try to interfere. It was easy enough to see that either he was in cahoots with the six mares, or he was as dumb as a sack of hammers for believing their story.
Worse, the CIA might get wind of it and, knowing they didn’t send an agent, would investigate the matter. After all, they’d been more interested in the case because of Chief Smokestack’s payroll increase, but if they thought the six mares were of some critical importance then that would greatly complicate matters. They wouldn’t question why a CIA agent was there in the first place. They worked so slowly they’d figure it was probably from a case several months ago they’d finally gotten around to.
Shadowstep laughed quietly to himself. The Committee sure had its priorities straight.
Well, one job finished. He’d gotten information on his targets that would likely be useful in the future, should they turn out to require his delicate hoofwork rather than just his ever-watching eyes. He even knew where they lived, and who they were with should that information prove useful as well. Anypony with them might try to stand in his way, and knowing how to remove them from the equation was always a boon. And with the little NPPD clerk a lifeless mass on the floor here, though he’d soon have to take care of that, easy enough, nopony would be able to warn them either.
As for whoever was supposed to be trailing them? Well, they’d be dealt with soon enough.