//------------------------------//
// Finding Evil by Moonlight 
// Story: Story Shuffle 2: Double Masters 
// by FanOfMostEverything 
//------------------------------//

Murders are rare in Equestria, but that just means that each one gets treated seriously. Murders in little towns where everypony knows everypony especially.

Still, that’s what I'm here for. My name's Streetlamp. I'm a private eye.

Yeah, I know what you're thinking. No "Moon" or "Night" or "Dark" or "Shade" or nothing? What kind of batpony am I?

Well, first of all, you hypothetical tribalist son of a mule, the proper term is "chiropteron." Means "hand wing" in Minoan, which is why the plural ends in an "a." Not much better, I know, but you gotta admit, it's got a bit more class. Minotaurs were the first folks to both find the old country and figure out writing, so they got naming rights for the rest of equinity. Far as we were concerned, we were just ponies. Or so I've been told.

Secondly, I'm sure you've heard ponies call Manehattan the city that never sleeps. Thing is, ponies like to be able to see when they're awake, the sun doesn't always cooperate there, and we don't all have eyes that work just fine in starlight. So, it's also the city that never gets dark. Not proper dark, anyway. Part of why I like it out in the country; ponies actually get to see some stars out here.

You know, when they're not busy worrying about a murder. Don't worry, I'm getting to that.

But yeah, the more stereotypical chiropteron names don't really come to mind when midnight doesn't look too far off from noon. (Besides, my appearance is so typical for my tribe, I might as well be one of Luna's chariot pullers. At least with the name I stand out somehow.) Like any other parents, my folks named me what they wanted me to be. In my case, a light in the darkness.

I know, I know, pro-diurnal metaphor. Blame a millennium with Sunbutt on the throne unopposed.

Where was I? Right, the murder. Based on the photos they sent me as part of the case info, it was a nasty one; I could see why they'd called me in. I don't like to brag, but I have gotten involved in most of the high-profile investigations in recent years. Wasn't always by choice, either. But for this one, I hopped on the train bright and early—before sunset, even!—without complaint. Tartarus, I almost hopped on without my hat.

After all, it's not every day you've got a murder in Ponyville of all places.

Relax. None of Princess Twilight's friendship squad bit the big one. If you've even heard of the victim, I'll eat that hat I almost forgot.

Okay, wise guy. Strawberry Scoop.

Yeah, thought so. Earth pony, beige coat, two-tone pink mane, self-explanatory cutie mark. Student at the School of Friendship. And she was found by a family of raccoons in Whitetail Wood four to six hours after she stepped out of the ice cream parlor of life. This being Ponyville, they informed Fluttershy, who informed Princess Twilight, and on the message went until it reached my fluffy ears.

Only took another twelve hours or so, and most of that was waiting on the preliminary investigation. News travels fast when it's this important.

The train ride was mostly uneventful, other than the inevitable curious foals asking Mommy what was wrong with the scary pegasus. My mark probably didn't help either. A circle that can't decide if it's a crescent moon or a staring eye draws attention, usually the bad kind. At least my sunglasses prevent any comments about my actual eyes.

Still, nopony accused me of being a Nightmare Moon cultist. Isn't it nice how we're becoming a more open and welcoming society?

The sun had nearly set when I got off the train. I'd expected to see the chief of police at the platform. I got the Princess of Friendship. Couldn't so much as dip my head before she went off like a rocket. "Oh good, you're here. Just a moment!" Next thing I knew, the world flashed purple, then we were under a forest canopy.

And to give you some idea of what it's like to work with Twilight Sparkle, only then did she say, "Um, you are Mr. Streetlamp, right? Because if I just abducted a random chiropteron then this whole investigation may as well be doomed before it starts and oh goodness this is Ms. Harshwhinny in the Empire all over again, I'll just—"

"Easy, easy," I said, putting on my best "talk them off the ledge" smile. The bit of fang never hurts; always makes the horse brain do a double-take. "I'm Streetlamp, Your Highness. Nopony's pressing foalnapping charges."

Watching that horn go dark brought me more relief than seeing Sanguine Humor get put away for life. Never let anypony tell you party ponies are harmless. Anyway, the princess relaxed just a hair and nodded. "Okay. Good. And Twilight is fine. Were you able to review the documents I sent you?"

"Some." Under one hoof, dragonfire messaging meant Prin... er, meant Twilight could send me the police's early investigation as soon as she could get it, giving me plenty of time to review the case on my way to Ponyville. Under another, she'd also sent me testimony from Strawberry's friends, testimony from her teachers, her full academic record, her full medical record, and even her full genealogical record going back before the town had been founded. "Anypony moved the body?"

"No, I informed the police I'd be calling in a consultant the moment I heard. A murder in Ponyville, it just..." She shook her head. "I can't even imagine who might have done this!"

I held back a wince. It was a good thing Twilight sent me all she did. The local colts in cobalt would not be happy with me after she told them how little faith she had in them. "That's what I'm here to find out, Twilight. Let's see what we're dealing with."

"Of course. Right this way."

Maybe if ponies killed each other more often, I'd get used to seeing dead bodies. Maybe I'm just a softy at heart. Either way, as often as I do this, it never gets any easier. Strawberry Scoop lay flat as a sack of cement, lying at the side of the forest trail like an empty bag of hay fries. 

Some ponies say the dead seem peaceful, like they're sleeping. Chiroptera don't. When you can see the dreaming mind as a tie-dyed haze around the skull, seeing a still body without one looks as wrong as a pony trotting around with a hoof-wide hole through their barrel. But when I got closer to Strawberry, something struck me as even more wrong than just a body without a mind. Some smell, feeling, taste, I don't know what. Next thing I knew, I'd drawn back, wings flared, ears back, hissing like a cat.

"Mr. Streetlamp?" said Twilight, awfully confused.

I glanced at her and all but slapped myself. After piecing together the scraps of my dignity, I cleared my throat. "Sorry. Something hit me in a spot I didn't know I had. Think this might be that unclassified magic aura the report mentioned."

She nodded, relaxing for the first time since we'd met. No surprise Magic Mare herself would rather talk about spells than the body. "It's decayed over time, but it's definitely like nothing I've ever detected before. Some relation to chiropteron magic would explain why."

"It would, but this isn't anything dream-related. I'm no dozer, but I can tell you that much."

"Dozer?"

"Onieromancer, dreamweaver, Fantasia's flunkies. The ponies who kept us all mildly sane during Princess Luna's big timeout. Every bat picks up a little of it." Hey, I can say it. It's our word. "But this..." I took another step towards the body and drew back my lips in unadulterated loathing. "This is something else, in every sense."

Twilight tossed her head, got a bit of her mane in her mouth, and started chewing. I don't think she even realized she was doing it. "Do you think you can work with just the photos I provided?"

I shook my head. "Those can only do so much. I like being able to get my own angles on the scene of the crime."

Step by step, I kept moving forward, even as that awful feeling made my skin try to crawl right off my body. Still, I kept enough focus to look over the body. Signs of bruising suggested a struggle. Some of that could be blood pooling, especially on the underside, though there should have been much more of that after the better part of a day.

That brought me to Strawberry's face, which had it the worst. Eyes, mouth, nostrils, ears, even individual pores and follicles were scabbed over with the dried blood that normally would've settled in the rest of her body. This kind of horror wasn't just a monster attack, not that monsters were known to prefer the Whitetail to the Everfree. This was clear, deliberate intent to harm and kill a fellow sapient.

The photos had made me suspect how I'd need to solve this one. Seeing it for myself confirmed it.

Once I made up my mind, I flew away from the disgusting thing that poor mare's body had become as fast as I could. I hadn't noticed the way my pulse pounded in my ears until I was away from it. Tartarus, the way I was gasping for air, I'm not sure if I'd breathed that whole time.

"Mr. Streetlamp? Are you alright?" Say what you will about Twilight Sparkle, she's a sweetheart when it counts.

I took a few moments to answer, still collecting myself. "I'll live. And I know what I have to do for this one."

"Is there any way I can help?" Her knees shook as she said it, but the look in her eyes was solid as a rock. You don't hurt ponies in an alicorn's town and get away with it.

Still, no sense tormenting her. "You've already done all you need to, Twilight. I'll review some more of the material you sent me, but this one calls for my secret weapon."

"What?"

"I'll sleep on it."

I could almost hear the gears tick away as she tried to puzzle that out. "What?"

"What can I say?" I shrugged my wings. "I do some of my best thinking then."

And that brings us to now. Anyway, seems like my next appointment's due. Thanks for listening.





The stallion turned away from nothing in particular, hooves silently striding over the ephemeral expanse of the dreamscape.

The other pony, who he'd heard approach, turned up a corner of her mouth. "Soliloquizing to the firmament again, Streetlamp?"

He didn't bow, but he did doff his fedora. "Just killing time until you arrive, Your Highness. I figure if A. K. Yearling can make bank with her life story, so can I."

"'Killing time.'" Luna quirked an eyebrow. "A tasteless turn of phrase given the current circumstances, would you not say?"

"If we get this right, Your Highness, it'll be the only killing I have to worry about."

"Scamp. Our last Royal Inquisitor was not nearly so irreverent."

Streetlamp smirked. "Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but your last Royal Inquisitor had a suite in Castle Everfree. I have a railroad apartment that's barely big enough for my full wingspan."

That got a genuine smile out of her, if only for a moment. "Enough for now. We lighten our hearts that we may pursue monsters in pony skin without becoming their ilk, but making merry quickly turns grotesque when the dead call for justice. What have you found, Inquisitor?"

Streetlamp summarized his findings: The blood magic, the instinctual revulsion, the medical data. Luna nodded along until he reached his conclusion. "I figured you'd know best on this one, Your Highness. You are my go-to for the extra-spooky ones."

"Just so. I know well the foe you face, good Streetlamp." She sighed. "I am in a way responsible for it."

"This covered by the Nightmare Pardon, Your Highness? 'Cause you can choose not to self-incriminate otherwise."

Luna just rolled her eyes before drawing herself up like a sphinx. She spread her wings, and a dream formed around them, one with the musty thought-scent of an old memory. "The story begins in the home of your forebears, known now as the Forbidden Jungles..."