//------------------------------//
// Epilogue 
// Story: My Little Serial Killer: Murder is Magic 
// by TheGentlemanCreeper 
//------------------------------//

There are a few things I genuinely enjoy in this world.

Quiet Sunday afternoons in my study…

The taste of a freshly baked chocolate donut…

And just recently, the way moonlight dances through the clouds.

It had been a few weeks since I signed away my life with Princess Luna and I was already out on a hunt. I sat in a little place called Donut Joe’s, watching an apartment building across the ways.

The building was home to one Cash Break. He lived on the fourth floor and was a rather wealthy individual with a few eccentricities.

Mostly, he enjoyed staging accidental deaths for his amusement.

Princess Luna gazed in on a particular dream Cash Break had of pushing a stallion off of the train platform. Apparently, it wasn’t just a dream but a memory.

She could tell the difference, she said. Comes with being the guardian of dreams, apparently.

Problem is, dreams aren’t admissible in court.

And so here I sat, waiting.

As far as everyone back in Ponyville was concerned, I was taking a little vacation in Canterlot for a week. And since then, I got to learn all I could about Cash Break.

As the clocktower stopped its tolling of the ninth hour, Cash Break exited his home.

I think he goes to a poker game, but he’s gone for at least an hour. Two at the most.

Which gave me all the time in the world.

His apartment building had minimal security and I had already swiped a keycard from an unsuspecting mare after ‘accidentally’ bumping into her on the street.

Letting myself up to the fourth floor, I jimmied open the lock to Cash’s door and walked in like I owned the place.

I made sure to lock the door behind me and settled in, snooping around the place a bit before getting to work.

The bedroom was the obvious place to set up.

Setting my bag down, I fished out a roll of plastic and started coating the bedroom. I had an hour to prepare a kill room and get ready for when he walked through that door.

As I worked, I let my mind wander.

The night means a lot to ponies.

It's a time to sleep.

It's a time to play.

But for me, it means something different.

A time to work.

My job isn’t as fancy as the rest of the ponies out there. I don’t bake, or run a library, or even own a store.

That’s far too boring and not worthy of my particular skill set.

I’m a cleaner.

And that’s just what I planned to do that night.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.