//------------------------------//
// Who Killed Cindy James? 
// Story: CMC Watch Bedtime Stories 
// by Lord Blundergosh 
//------------------------------//

At this hour of the day, Carousel Boutique would usually be alive with the sounds of a master seamstress at work. The rapid mechanical whirs of a sewing machine would be the first thing to greet anypony walking in. If they stayed long enough the visitor could also have their ears graced with a cacophony of snips and clips from multiple scissors wielded by the magic of the excellent multitasker that is the owner. Once in awhile a pony even got to hear that same mare humming a merry tune, a testament to how she was truly in her element, breezing through her work. However, this day all of those sounds had given way to silence instead; that was, until the quiet was interrupted by the little clinks created by a filly shuffling through the fridge.

Despite all the noise she was making, Sweetie Belle really was trying to be as quiet as possible. It wasn’t because she was afraid of being caught. She was just sneaking some soda bottles and a bag of chips, it’s not like she was raiding her sister’s liquor cabinet. Still, it was probable that if Rarity caught her, she might decide to not let her and friends snack before dinner. Sweetie definitely didn’t want to disappoint by having to come upstairs empty-hooved. 

She snuck a look back at her sister, sleeping in her chair with a notebook on her chest and several hooves across from where she sat was a mannequin adorned with all sorts of materials and fabrics Sweetie had never seen Rarity use before. She must have been at some sort of creative roadblock if she was experimenting with anything she could find. 
Sweetie already had a hunch since this morning that Rarity had pulled one of her all-nighters and seeing her sister asleep at this hour had confirmed that theory. A part of her wanted to wake Rarity up, maybe offer her help to complete this latest commission that’s got her so stumped, but she thought better of it. She had no solutions to help in Rarity in a creative sense and she’d just get in her big sister’s way. Besides, Rarity always managed to figure it out eventually.

Figuring that now to be a good time, Sweetie sneakily swiped three bottles from the fridge. Using her magic she carried all the sodas and the chip bag alongside her, Sweetie Belle made her way to the stairs. Carefully, she tippy-hoofed up each step until she was finally at the top. Feeling like she was totally in the clear (and had won a special badge in stealth in the process) Sweetie neglected to be as careful with the door. 

The sharp bam that came from the door to Sweetie’s room slamming was loud enough to awake Rarity downstairs. The alabaster unicorn stirred out of her slumber and blinked the blur from her eyes. When her eyes cleared up she took a look at the clock: partially out of habit, but mostly to see how long she’d been out.

4:30.

“Shoot. That’s *yawn two hours wasted. And now I have to start preparing dinner soon.” 





Sweetie Belle slammed the door shut behind her and put on the best Manehatten accent she could muster from all her collective memories of talking to Babs Seed. 

“Alrite ya low-lives, snuck in sum cawntra baand for ya’s. Ya betta pay up!”

Quickly catching on to the prison guard bit Sweetie was doing, Scootaloo asked, “Aren’t they a little more discreet about that sort of stuff in prison?”

Sweetie Belle might have quipped something back, but stopped to take notice of what her two friends were up to. When Scootaloo had given her reply, she had done so with one hoof covering her eyes and the other extended all the way and pointing directly at the screen. Meanwhile, Apple Bloom had the orb’s pen clenched between her teeth and was using it to scroll up the list of stories.

“What are you guys doing?”

“Wrr chrim ssshum noo-“ 

“Scoots, tell me what you’re doing.”

Sweetie Belle interrupted Apple Bloom in the middle of her impossible to understand explanation that she had been giving with the pen still in her mouth.

“I’m keeping my eyes closed while Apple Bloom scrolls through the stories. I’ll tell her stop and whatever story my hoof lands on will be the next one we watch.”

“Why do you need to use this method just to choose the next one?”

“We were kinda fighting over which ones we wanted to see next, so we had to compromise. Plus, this way if any of us pick one that sucks, we can say it wasn’t our fault since it was all by chance.” 

“Hmmm… good point.”, Sweetie said with narrowed eyes before using her magic to start opening one of the sodas.

“Speaking of which…”, Scootaloo continued. “Apple Bloom, I’d like you to stop right… NOW.”

Apple Bloom happily obliged and then eagerly spit the pen out onto the floor. Scootaloo uncovered her eyes to look at whatever story she had just selected for them all to watch. She looked at the story’s “cover” and saw the image of a long-haired, feminine-looking human; or feminine as far as she could tell, she wasn’t sure if she’s seen enough images of these human beings to automatically distinguish between their boys and girls. In the drawing, “she” was smiling while looking directly in the viewer’s direction as if she were posing for a photo. That’s probably what the illustration was copied from, actually. Scootaloo finally allowed her eyes to draw to the title and immediately she read it aloud.

“Who Killed Cindy James?”

“Woah! Sounds like we’re going to listen to a murder mystery this time.”, Sweetie said while opening a second soda bottle with her magic and then levitating each one to Scootaloo and Apple Bloom.

Apple Bloom looked at the projected screen where the next story awaited them, and frowned. She wasn’t sure how to feel about watching a story about a real pony… or person’s death. She recalled her big sister’s rants at sensationalist headlines by newspapers who were “crowdin’ around the grievin’ like buzzards”. However, Apple Bloom ultimately decided to not give any protest and just took her first swig of pop.

Sweetie Belle once again lifted the pen with her magic and clicked on the story.





The Bedtime Stories narrator wasted little time establishing the time and place as June, 1989 in “Vancouver”. It was on that warm, summer’s day that the battered and bruised body of a dead woman was found in the yard of an abandoned house. The police had determined that she had committed suicide. But her history of enduring threatening phone calls and abusive stalking might suggest otherwise. Sweetie Belle was unsurprisingly feeling a bit disturbed at the mention of stalking and such, but that was still tempered by the same morbid curiosity that brought all three of them to where they are now. That sense of intrigue was undercut when Scootaloo spoke up with a mouth full of chips.

“Ah dunno if thish ish insenshitiv, but for a weird primate thingy she looksh pretty.”

As Scootaloo swallowed her chips and reached in the bag for more, the other two looked at her with half-lidded stares that laid their irritation and disapproval out in the open.

“Ya think that maybe if ya have ta ask whether or not somethin’ y’all will say is insensitive, then maybe ya shouldn’t bother sayin’ it?”, Apple Bloom scolded.

“I mean, it’s still a compliment, right?”, Scootaloo non-commitally defended before shoveling more chips into her mouth.

“A pretty back-hoofed compliment.”, Sweetie murmured while turning her face back to the screen.

She was greeted by the slow, solemn and somewhat suspenseful soundtrack of what she could tell was some type of woodwork instrument and some soft digital percussion. This was soon accompanied by the image of what looked like a human with its back towards the camera dressed in the same gear that she’s seen construction workers wear all the time. This made Sweetie wonder two things: 1.) Why do these humans happen to dress so similarly to the ponies of Equestria? 2.) Why has every single human she’s seen all worn clothes?

The human was apparently a road worker who had wandered out of sight of his colleagues. He appeared to be checking out the abandoned house that he’d wondered over towards. Supposedly, the man had noticed a putrid smell that hung in the air around the house. He didn’t think much of it since the house was known for having secret parties; in all likelihood it was a garbage bag that had split open and festered in the summer heat.

“Given the title of this story, fat chance that’s what it actually was.”, Scootaloo said grimly before sipping her soda pop.

“Ah wonder, has anypony done that here in Ponyville? Throw a secret party in an abandoned buildin’, ah mean.”

Sweetie gave off a satisfied sigh after gulping down some of her own pop and then immediately responded to Apple Bloom’s question.

“Now that you mention it, I wonder if there have been any secret parties like that in Nightmare Moon’s castle in the Everfree?”

“Now there’s a reallllly scary spot for a spooky party now that Nightmare Night is around the corner!”, Scootaloo butted back in.

On his way to “relieve himself” in the long, overgrown grass behind the property, the road worker finally noticed “it”. As the narrator continued to speak, the story was panning down to reveal that in the yard was the body of a woman lying on its side, her hands and feet tied behind her back. The fillies watching felt the slightest queezy looking at the emaciated, decaying body of Cindy James, but they were thankfully somewhat prepared for it thanks to the title. The narrator further described how there was a black nylon stalking wrapped around her neck that was digging into her skin and how her face, black from decomposition, contrasted her long blonde hair.

Police already had a hunch as to who the deceased was before even arriving on scene and their suspicions were shortly confirmed afterwards. The body belonged to Cindy James, a local middle-aged woman who had disappeared two weeks prior. Her car had been found abandoned in a neighborhood car park; inside, investigators not only found groceries and a wrapped gift, but blood on the driver’s side door. The contents of her purse had also been placed or dropped underneath the vehicle. 

Not having knowledge of how crime scenes work, none of the Crusaders knew how to react when the narrator claimed that those last details indicated foul play. However, they still took the narrator at his word that those were in fact evidence. The police ruled it a suicide by overdose since high amounts of a “morphine-based drug” in her blood. Even so, the coroner listed the cause of death as an “unknown event”.

“Waaaiiit, how were they able to read her blood?”, Sweetie Belle asked.

“Duh, they used a blood testing spell.”, Scootaloo couldn’t believe that Sweetie managed to forget something that’s existed in Equestria for over a hundred years at this point.

“But that’s the thing! Twilight said that in the human world magic is rare and it’s existence is both unknown and denied by most people.”

“Well, that’s just plum ridiculous! How do ya have a society that advanced without any magic?”, Apple Bloom said in disbelief.

With controversy sparked in the local community and the opinions of armchair investigators split worldwide, the narrator decided that in order to better understand such a curious case, one must got back to the beginning. Sweetie perked up slightly upon hearing this. She was intrigued to get to know this person’s story and what strange events could have possibly led to her death. Scootaloo and Apple Bloom may not have been so visibly stirred, but they were interested so far.

Born as Cindy Hack in 1944, she lived the first year of her life in “Ontario” with her father Otto who was stationed there as an army doctor. Shortly after the end of the Second World War, the family moved to Vancouver so that Otto could attend university in the hopes of advancing his medical career. When this proved unsuccessful, Otto rejoined the military in 1949 in a training capacity which meant he would have to work all over the country.

“Ah guess Ontario n’ Vancouver aren’t separate countries from the sound of it.”, Apple Bloom mentally corrected.

This constant moving to different parts of the country would characterize much of Cindy’s childhood. Her family never stayed in one place long enough for her to be able to form the connections that are important for children her age.

*sigh

“Somethin’ wrong?”, Apple Bloom turned to face the source of the sound.

“Everything’s fine… I was just thinking about how my parents almost took me far away from you guys to Shire Lanka last year.”, Scootaloo confessed.

Her frown suddenly shifted into a smile as she recalled how that event ended, “Glad we were able to talk ‘em out of it.”

Sweetie Belle gave Scootaloo a comforting pat on her back.

By all accounts, Cindy was an incredibly bright child who loved books and aspired early on to become a nurse. However, she never really developed a social life as a child.

“I think my sister told me that Twilight was supposedly like that her entire life before coming to Ponyville.”, Sweetie Belle said.

“Yeah. This lady does sound sorta like Miss -er… Princess Twilight back when ah first saw her here in Ponyville.”, Apple Bloom agreed vocally while using one hoof to tap her chin.

Cindy’s parents actively discouraged her from making friends, possibly trying to protect her from the feelings of loss she would have to endure all too often with their itinerant lifestyle. She found even less companionship in her parents. Otto was a strict disciplinarian who treated her as a live-in house maid rather than a daughter. 

“Harsh.”, said Scootaloo

“Ehhh. Ah bet their exaggeratin’ about the house work. It probably ain’t nothin’ worse than the chores ah have ta do around the farm.”, Apple Bloom interjected.

Before Scootaloo could counter back, Sweetie Belle replied on her behalf, “I think you’re forgetting that you do way more work than we or anypony else our age who we know does.” 

“*groan… Ah mean, sure it sucks but ya get used to it.”, the farm filly concluded while taking the time to give her back a much needed stretch. With her forelegs outstretched and her torso twisting to the right, her spine gave a satisfying pop. Her groans of exertion finally gave way to a contented sigh.

In 1962, her father’s request to work overseas was granted and he intended to relocate the family to France. However, now that she was a legal adult woman of 18 years, Cindy refused to go with them this time. Unwilling to move abroad, but unable to stay in Ottawa, she instead took a nursing course at Vancouver General Hospital, moving into the nurses’ dormitories on site. She was relatively happy in her new position, maintaining a B+ average at nursing school and visiting her family in France during the next three summers. Much to her parents’ shock, however, they later received a letter from Cindy, detailing the apparent suicide of her “fiancé”.

While Sweetie Belle suddenly began choking on her whole mouthful of chips and Apple Bloom nearly spittaked, Scootaloo was the only one left to vocalize what everypony was thinking.

“Woah, woah, woah, woah! When did she get a fiancé!?!”

Apparently, neither her parents nor her brother who visited her regularly ever knew she was engaged until they got that letter. 

As Apple Bloom finally got Sweetie to cough up her chips by applying the Heimlich maneuver, Scootaloo continued, “The story actually decided to skip the part where she got engaged and NOW we’re learning that her fiancé… killed himself?”

One would be hesitant to say that it was often that a pony committed suicide in the land of Equestria. Still, it was often enough that all three fillies have had experience asking a grownup why somepony would ever kill themselves after hearing a story about such an instance from the newspapers. Just last year, Cheerilee hosted a suicide awareness day for their whole class. This, of course, did not lessen the weight of hearing about another creature ending their lives for their still youthful minds. 

While the Sweetie kept heaving in as much sweet, sweet air as possible, the narrator continued on without further elaborating on this mystery fiancé. Instead, he explained how later in 1965 Cindy met another man at work while the screen cut to the two of them in a doctor’s office. With characteristic medical poster, weight scale and other standard medical items in the background, Cindy was shown looking back and smiling at a much older, balding gentleman in a doctor’s uniform. Leaning far in on the table in front and tenderly smiling back at her, the man was a 39-year-old married fellow named Roy Makepeace, who had taken an interest in his much younger student.

“Are we seriously movin’ on that quickly from the dead fiancé!?”, Apple Bloom sincerely asked as if she’d forgotten that the orb couldn’t respond.

“How is the story so casual about something like that?”, Sweetie Belle echoed the same concern.

As Roy began to tutor Cindy, the two quickly developed a sexual relationship. In 1966, Roy divorced his wife and then married Cindy in December of that year. The pair had kept their relationship secret from her parents up to this point, as understandably, when Cindy did inform them via letter, they were appalled. This did not sit well with Apple Bloom.

“Ah’m not sure if ah like this Cindy lady. So far, the biggest thing we know about her is that she’s a home wrecker.” 

Apple Bloom’s suspicion against her only grew once it was detailed how a scathing letter from Cindy’s mother, which Cindy read aloud to Roy, accused him of taking advantage of her, only to later be revealed that Cindy had forged the letter herself. Roy found this behavior incredibly strange, but simply chalked it off to “melodrama” at the time.

“What? Why would she do that?”, Scootaloo pondered, wearing the most perplexed expression.

“Is this lady as crazy as Miss Rarity?”, Apple Bloom asked, earning her an extremely sour look from her little white unicorn friend.

“What is THAT supposed to mean?”

Realizing what she just said, Apple Bloom timidly bit her bottom lip and desperately tried to think of a non-offensive way of rephrasing or explaining away her prior statement. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Scootaloo picked up the conversation for her.

“Wellll… your sister is kinda a drama queen who’s got a thing for making mountains of molehills in a way that makes her the center of everypony’s attention.”, she said before continuing. “Doesn’t that sorta remind you of how this Cindy chick just created a dramatic scenario for no reason?”

Despite feeling as though she only sort of got what Scootaloo was saying, this didn’t stop Sweetie Belle from giving her retort.

“First, she’s not as bad as she used to be. Second, she just overreacts sometimes; she would never make up a tragedy just for attention…”, Sweetie paused, her scowl giving way slightly to a mask of uncertainty. 

“At least, not something like that.”

Over the years, Cindy became more insular, screaming at Roy to leave her alone, even confiding to her friends that he abused her. The atmosphere around the Crusaders seemed to grow two times heavier. With the previous two stories telling of a horrid monster and a sinister conspiracy, it was unbelievable how something comparably more commonplace still managed to be more upsetting. So far, this story was turning out to be the most “intense” (for lack of a better term) one yet and it wasn’t even far into it. Roy supposedly admitted to slapping Cindy on two occasions out of frustration during their long relationship, but vehemently denied the level of abuse she accused him of.

Sweetie Belle sniffed at the screen with contempt.

“Assuming that I’m going to believe you, Roy, that’s only slightly better than what Cindy claimed.” 

After sixteen years of marriage, the couple separated in 1982 and Cindy moved into her own place shortly afterwards, a big step for her since she had never lived on her own before. Supposedly, this is when the terror began to unfold. The story cut to an illustration of Cindy standing in her new home while holding to the right side of her face a black colored device consisting of a handle, a headphone like protrusion on each end, and a wire coming out from the bottom. Her face was an easily readable emoticon of concern, apprehension and fear. She began to suffer at the hands of an unknown assailant a few months after moving in, first starting on October 7th, 1982. 

Apple Bloom realized that the device Cindy was holding was one of those “phones” humans use for communication when it was described how on that night she received a disturbing phone call; the others realized almost immediately after she did. From the other end of the phone, a reportedly raspy voice was said to have made obscene sexual threats towards her. If that wasn’t enough to make the three fillies’ skin crawl, the caller also knew Cindy’s name and said it repeatedly to taunt her. Over the next few days, she received more calls from the stranger. Immediately after this was said, the girls were taken aback slightly by the interjection of a small beep noise. Next, a high, raspy and possibly feminine voice that was definitely not the narrator’s began speaking.

“Cindy… Dead meat soon…”

The way the voice sounded as if it was whipering directly into each filly’s ear made all three of them give an involuntary shudder. 

“Was that the actual stalker’s voice?”, Scootaloo said in a hushed tone to her friends as if she were on the phone with this stranger.

All the other two could give in response were shrugs that communicated, “Probably, but I don’t know.”

Much like the photo from the Mothman story and the looped video from the one on the Men in Black, this voice recording of the stalker ominously threatening the titular victim made this tale feel a bit too close for comfort. It was an eerie reminder that even though it hadn’t happened in their world, this was all very much real. 

On one occasion after hanging up, Cindy felt as though she was being watched. She closed the curtains before the phone rang again and the caller said, “Don’t think pulling the drapes means I don’t know you’re in there.”

Sweetie was now beginning to wonder what possible connection this stalker had to Cindy; what grudge would they have against her? Also, how is this stranger able to know Cindy’s whereabouts even when they can’t see her? For their part, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo felt a little ashamed of their casting of suspicion and insensitive comment, respectively. Whatever they thought about Cindy, they could all agree that she certainly did not deserve to have her sense of safety and privacy threatened like this. 

Meanwhile, that last phone call was enough to get Cindy to call the police. However, when the police visited her home on October 12th, they found nothing out of place in or around the property.

“Well then what did he-or she mean when they said that they can still see her?”, Sweetie spoke up. “Did they just guess that she’d be in the house to hear that last phone call?”

Apple Bloom would have been asking the same question, if something else wasn’t bugging her.

“What sorta grudge could this stranger have against Cindy that would make ‘em do all this?”

“I was wondering the same thing!”, Sweetie replied.

“I think it was Roy’s first wife.”

Sweetie and Apple Bloom turned to face Scootaloo, in hopes of her elaborating on what she just said.

“I mean, the voice from the phone sounded like a girl to me, so that narrows it down a bit. Plus, with Cindy taking Roy from her, Roy’s first ex has the most reason to kill her out of anyone else we’ve heard of so far.”

“That is a pretty dang solid motive, right there.”, Apple Bloom said with one hoof scratching the edge of her chin.

“And that makes for a pretty dang solid suspect!”, Sweetie Belle concurred, her eyes becoming more alight with each word that left her mouth.

Despite not finding anything, the police still recommended that she keep a diary of any strange occurrences and get an “unlisted telephone number”. Even though she did as they asked, the calls still didn’t stop. If anything, the harassment began to escalate.

“What’s an unlisted number even supposed to do?”, Scootaloo asked in a voice that expressed her confusion just as much as her face did.

“Maybe it… puts up some sort of shield around her phone that the stranger can’t get through? Or… turns the phone invisible so they can’t find it?”, Sweetie Belle visibly shrank under Apple Bloom’s deadpan stare.

“Not like any of us can really guess. None of us know these telephone thingies work.”, Apple Bloom mercifully concluded without mocking Sweetie’s obviously ridiculous guesses.

Three days later on the 15th, Cindy and her friend came to her house to find one of her windows broken and her front door slightly open. The accompanying illustration showed Cindy and her friend staring in horror at Cindy’s bed, which was covered in her pillows that were slashed into halves and leaking stuffing all over the mattress. Lying on the table next her bed was apparently some sort of door key. The narrator didn’t outright explain what door the key led to, but given the front door to Cindy’s house being open when it shouldn’t have, that probably didn’t need to be elaborated.

Apple Bloom very audibly gulped at the ominous sight before her.

“Gee, I wonder what that’s supposed to mean.”, Scootaloo stated in a tone that wasn’t quite snarky enough to be considered sarcastic, yet still had an audible sense of irony contained within.

In the days that followed, Cindy began to find notes made from magazine clippings, detailing violent threats against her. Apple Bloom found herself hung up on the mention of magazine clippings.

“Why do crooks like ta specifically use magazine clippin’s when they leave letters?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s so they can’t identify the hoof writing.”, Sweetie Belle answered.

“Well, then why not just use a typewriter?”

“Well, not everpony has one. Also, I think police have a way of tracing the typewriter a letter comes from.”

As the police became more involved in Cindy’s case, she became acquainted with an officer named Pat McBride. He made it his duty to frequently check in on her and even moved into her spare room later that month.

Snickering, Scootaloo couldn’t help but make some sort of remark.

“Is it just me or does anypony else think someone here’s a bit thirsty?”

Despite this added security, police found that Cindy’s telephone wire had been cut in early November. McBride later found a pair of wire clippers on top of his toolbox which he did not remember using. 

“How the hay did that happen!?”, Sweetie Belle exclaimed.

“Yeah. That part about the clippers being on his toolbox is also pretty weird…”, Scootaloo wondered began to wonder if her initial reading on Pat McBride might have been slightly off; perhaps his motives for staying were actually more sinister than she thought.

Just when Scootaloo started feeling like she found the culprit, police found Cindy’s ex-husband, Roy, parked behind her house a month later. 

“What’s he doin’ there?”, Apple Bloom asked nopony in particular.

He claimed that he was there to protect Cindy, but admitted that she had not been aware of his presence. Sweetie wasn’t sure how the others felt about that claim, but she certainly wasn’t buying it.

“Uh huh. Likely story.”

Roy asked Cindy to move back in with him, but unable to trust him, she refused. Instead, she planned to move to a new place entirely. Apple Bloom nodded sympathetically.

“Can’t say ah blame her. This is all way too suspicious.”

Just days before she was due to relocate however, Cindy’s friend, Agnes, found her collapsed on her basement stairs. The three fillies went still, even Scootaloo’s hooful of chips stopped halfway on its journey to her mouth, which was hanging open in shock. They all stared, transfixed by the image of Cindy lying unconscious in front of the stairs bleeding from the fourteen cuts all over her body. 

“How did the police think that she committed suicide when she has a history of stuff like this happening to her!?”

Neither the orb nor her friends were willing to even try to give an answer to Sweetie Belle’s question at the moment. Someone else who also unwilling to answer questions was Cindy herself. When asked about the attacker, Cindy said that he didn’t see their face. However, there was a sense that she was actually withholding information. Scootaloo couldn’t believe what she just heard and gestured at the screen with her forelegs.

“Why would they think she was purposely refusing tell them anything?  What motive would she have to do that?”

Apple Bloom’s eyes came alive with horror as a terrible realization occurred to her.

“This stalker might have someone Cindy loves as their hostage!”

Sweetie turned to Apple Bloom and asked, “Like her family living out of the country??”

As if it was finally answering their questions, the narrator explained that Cindy later admitted to her brother that the attacker told her that he would go after their family if she looked at him. Sweetie was positively flabbergasted at this point.

“How could this person be so powerful!?”

“I don’t know. But whoever they are, they’re sick!”, Scootaloo concluded the trio’s conversation.

Over the next year, police would intermittently set up surveillance operations on Cindy’s house, watching day and night, sometimes for weeks at a time. At no point during any of this observation did any incident occur, yet as soon as the surveillance ended, the calls and notes returned. For as much as they were disgusted by this stalker, all three fillies couldn’t help but marvel at how slippery he was. 

In 1983, Cindy moved again, this time to a smaller house closer to work. She also took a vacation to escape the harassment and for a time, it seemed as though she had evaded her stalker for good. Unfortunately, after months of silence, Cindy one day returned to her job to find a note at her place of work that said, “Welcome Back”. The Crusaders barely had time to shudder before they were told something even more disturbing that Cindy suffered. In October of that year a cat was found on Cindy’s lawn, strangled to death and with note next to it reading, “You’re next…”.

Hearing this made Apple Bloom vomit a little, though she thankfully caught it in her mouth and swallowed it back down. Unsurprisingly, she didn’t much appreciate its aftertaste, so she reached for her soda bottle and took several big gulps, finally finishing the drink with a satisfied exhale. While they both found this disturbing, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle still stayed cool and listened intently. Their morbid curiosity would not allow them to miss the ways that this would possibly further escalate.

Now fearing for her life, she was introduced to Ozzie Kaban, a big name security contractor who had protected royalty, statesman and celebrities alike.

“*whistle. Impressive resume right there.”

Sweetie was inclined to agree with Scootaloo, except she was hung on that last statement’s phrasing.

“What do they mean she was now fearing for her life? She should have at least started being afraid of dying when she got attacked in her house before moving!”

Despite this security contractor’s impressive career, even he somehow couldn’t manage to protect her. One night, Ozzie was called to Cindy’s house. When he kicked open the door after his knocks didn’t receive any response, both he and the Crusaders were shocked at what they saw inside. Cindy was lying face down on the floor, unconscious; her long hair completely covered her face. A black stocking was wrapped tightly around her neck. A paring was stabbed into her right hand, pinning to it a note that said, “Now you must die”.

Apple Bloom shake herself out of the shock as something weird about the whole scenario.

“If this sick human felt it was time for Cindy ta die, then why didn’t he just kill her right there?”

By this time, Cindy had reached her breaking point and after threatening suicide, was committed to Lionsgate Hospital under a new surname. After five days, doctors decided that she was no longer a suicide risk and released her into the care of her friends and family. Sweetie Belle glumly frowned and turned to ask her friends something that made her afraid of how they would answer.

“If either of you were going through something like that for so long, would you… try to kill yourselves too?”

Both girl were visibly taken aback by their friend’s question. Yet, they quickly realized that it was best not to hesitate if they didn’t want Sweetie to worry.

“Hay no!”, Scootaloo exclaimed bluntly.

“If this was happenin’ ta meh, ah definitely wouldn’t end mah life. Cuz ah know ah could depend on y’all and mah family ta save meh looong before it’d ever come ta that!”

Apple Bloom punctuated that last statement by reaching over to pat Sweetie Belle on the shoulder. Feeling relieved by her friends’ answers, she turned back to the projected screen and reached into the chip bag. She only took out one this time. Last thing Sweetie wanted was to repeat that near death experience she had mere minutes ago.

Still, the harassment continued, causing Cindy to move once more in an attempt to escape her waking nightmare. This time she settled in Richmond. Unfortunately, things again only took a turn for the worse.

“Oh boy…”, Scootaloo stated as if to ask, “What happened this time?”

On December 5th, 1985, Cindy was found dazed in a ditch, more than six mile from her home. She was near hypothermic, wearing minimal clothing and, curiously, a large men’s work boot on one foot. She also wore a rubber glove, and had a stocking wrapped tightly around her throat.

“Again?”, Sweetie asked rhetorically, before Apple Boom joined her.

“What’s with this stalker usin’ stockings ta strangle her? Do stockings have some sorta personal meanin’ ta this guy?”

She was bruised and beaten, having suffered lacerations, a black eye, abrasions, as well as a needle mark on her inner elbow. However, these injuries were not as surprising as what had come next. After having been briefed by the Vancouver police, the Richmond police department came to the conclusion that Cindy was fabricating the assaults.

“WHAT!?!”

All three fillies cried out in perfect sync, not entirely sure if they had just heard that correctly. Rather than vocalize any more questions they had however, they instead allowed the narrator to continue for a bit longer. According to him, the police were growing tired of the constant call-outs, only to find no evidence suggesting the involvement of a third party. Regardless, her friends, Tom and Agnes, stood by Cindy and began staying overnight so she could finally get some sleep, assuming that there would be no incidents while others were present.

Sweetie Belle groaned, “You’re really gonna make us wait until the end before you explain that whole she faked those assaults ruling!?”

While the others were also annoyed by the narrator teasing them like this, their attention quickly fell onto the image the story had transitioned to. It showed what they assumed was the front of Cindy’s house, and gathering in front of it were what appeared to be large clouds of smoke. The narration described how one night in April, Cindy woke Tom saying she had heard a noise, which, incidentally, he also noticed. As the image further panned out, all three fillies finally noticed that the smoke wasn’t just gathering in front of the house, it was actually coming fromthe house. 

“Oh Celestia, no!”, Sweetie Belle thought as she placed both hooves onto her head.

When Cindy and Tom had run downstairs, they discovered a fire had started in her house. They attempted to call the fire department but found that both the telephone line and the panic button Ozzie installed had been disconnected. Some witnesses claim that Cindy was calm up until the police arrived on the scene, only then did she begin crying and screaming. This sudden dramatic display not only caught onlookers off guard, the news of it also perplexed the Crusaders watching the story.

“Huh…”, Apple Bloom blankly said. She thought back to the forged letter Cindy made to her husband Roy and the suspicion that it created towards this girl. The farm filly began to wonder if she was actually a better judge of character than she had ever realized.

“OKAY! That is really suspicious!”, Scootaloo said, though it probably wasn’t necessary to point out the obvious.

Investigators concluded that Cindy was the one who most likely started the fire. However, Tom and Agnes resisted this, claiming Cindy would never endanger their lives. While Sweetie was inclined to agree with Cindy’s friends, there was a twinge of doubt in her voice when she began to speak.

“I’ll admit that this does look pretty bad, but I still can’t buy the idea that she was doing all of this the entire time. I mean, why would she?”

Early the following month, Cindy was hospitalized for extreme depression. She was then transferred to another facility better capable to care for her, where she would be psychoanalyzed. She was diagnosed with Hysteria, Paranoia, Schizophrenia, Psychopathy and Hypochondriasis. 

Apple Bloom looked to her side at Sweetie Belle and said, “Well there’s a few reasons right there.”

Sweetie looked back indignantly, “Th-those are conditions, not motives! Not to mention that Princess Twilight once told me that doctors misdiagnose mental illnesses all the time.”

Scootaloo interjected, “Didn’t she tell you that after she got diagnosed with… what was it called?”

She turned to Apple Bloom, who answered with, “OCD and Neurosis.”

The two then turned back to Sweetie Belle expecting her response.

“…maybe.”, she reluctantly replied

Cindy was released after ten weeks, but the torment soon restarted. On October 26th, her panic button was pressed. She was found hogtied, naked from the waist down and choked with a stocking, halfway inside her car. She remembered nothing of how she got there. 

“There’s that little stocking motif again.”, Scootaloo thought to herself.

A knot expert claimed that she could not have restrained herself in such a way, however the police dismissed this.

“Ugh. Is it me or are the police completely useless here?”, Sweetie Belle pondered.

“We probably shouldn’t be that surprised that these cops suck at their job. I mean, have you seen the royal guard? When have they ever done a good job at protecting Equestria?”, Scootaloo asked rhetorically.

Cindy’s alarm went off multiple in the following months, but little credence was given to her situation. The apparent harassment continued unabated for the next three and a half years, before things reached a tragic and horrifying conclusion. On the evening of May 25th, 1989, Agnes visited Cindy’s house for their scheduled game of bridge.

“What’s Bridge?”, Apple Bloom asked.

“It’s a game you can play with a standard deck of cards.”, Scootaloo answered

Sweetie Belle perked up slightly out of curiosity, “You think we can play it at some point while we’re here?”

“Aunt Holiday and Auntie Lofty haven’t showed me how to play. We could ask them to show us when my place is fixed back up, though.”

Agnes knocked, but heard nothing from inside the house, which immediate raised alarm bells. A search party was sent out and soon Cindy’s car was found in a nearby supermarket car park. Forensics were called, who went over the vehicle with a fine toothed comb. They discovered the freshly purchased groceries, along with the gift for her friend’s child and a receipt from depositing her paycheck at 7:58 pm that evening. They also detected the traces of blood on the driver’s side door and found contents from Cindy’s purse underneath the car. It appeared as though a kidnapping had taken place. Roy was the immediate suspect, but he had a strong alibi, leaving investigators with little to go on.

Cindy’s body was discovered two weeks later and according to the men who found her, there had been no effort made to conceal her body. This time the expert claimed that the knots could have been easily replicated by Cindy, demonstrating the technique to the police. Sweetie Belle sorely crossed her forelegs.

“Oh, so now the expert takes the police’s side now that she’s dead and can’t defend herself. How about you make up your freaking mind!”

Toxicology reports showed a lethal dosage of morphine based medicine in her bloodstream, which was “unlikely to have been ingested involuntarily” according to investigators.

“Why??? What basis does that have? How can they say that she could only ingest that much morphine on purpose? Did these blockheads even consider that someone might have forced the needle into her!?”

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom both leaned back slightly, somewhat taken aback by how intensely Sweetie Belle was getting into this story that she had no personal connection to. 

Meanwhile, the coroner’s report listed the cause of death as an “unknown event” and to this day nobody has been charged in connection with the death of Cindy James. Despite being listed in this way, the Police are adamant that the death was in fact a suicide. Not one shred of evidence was ever found clearly suggesting another party was involved; not a finger print, a hair or even a scrap of DNA.

“Whatever this DNA stuff is, I bet it’s the most unreliable type of evidence they have.”, Sweetie exclaimed with a false sense of confidence.

“Sweetie, will ya calm down already? Just watch, please!”, Apple Bloom complained, growing tired of her unicorn friend’s needlessly snide comments.

She didn’t say anything in response, but she seemed to concede to Apple Bloom’s demand from the looks of it; silently staring at the screen without another peep. While there was no actual evidence of another party, there were plenty of suspects. Roy Makepeace was the primary one, as he was initially accused by Cindy and her family of being her attacker. Using a hypnosis session in 1984, Cindy even recalled Roy murdering two people while on a boating trip. However, statements taken whilst under hypnosis offer very little credibility in court.

Perplexed and with one eyebrow raised, Scootaloo asked, “Is there something wrong with hypnosis?”

“Mah sister says that unless it’s by Discord or some other super powerful being, all hypnotism is a bunch a hooey.”

Moreover, Roy was found to have solid alibis for many of the assaults and calls, and was ruled out as a suspect. There was a strange man reportedly patrolling the street at the time of the fire. A neighbor confronted the man, but he ran away. Whilst this is suspicious, it is entirely possible that he was simply a curious onlooker out for a late stroll.   Regardless, not nearly enough is known about him to form any kind of conclusion. The final and arguably most convincing suspect is Officer Pat McBride.

“Ah did get a strange feeling about that guy after the incident with the wire clippers.”, Apple Bloom remarked.

“That’s what I was gonna say.”, Scootaloo added.

Over the course of the events it became increasingly evident he was romantically interested in Cindy, likely forming a relationship during his time as a lodger at her house. McBride actually proposed to Cindy, but was refused. Despite this, the two remained good friends.

“What did I tell ya! This guy definitely wanted a certain something when he asked to keep watch at her place!”, Scootaloo beamed proudly as her assertions from earlier were validated.

Sweetie Belle visibly puzzled over the implications behind this before pointing one hoof towards Scootaloo and asking her a question.

“So, are you and the narrator here trying to say that this police officer did all of this as part of some weird scheme to get her to like him?”

“Bingo!”, Scootaloo pointed back. “If he got the chance to be her knight in shining armor, then he thought she’d want him for sure!”

“Well, why did the attacks not stop after she refused to marry him?”, asked Apple Bloom.

“Haven’t you heard of the saying all obsessed, lovesick psychos love to use? If I can’t have you, no one can.”

One thing that does lend credence to McBride as a suspect is the fact that he is a police officer. This would give him exact knowledge of when and how the police were observing the house, thus explaining why the attacks stopped during these times and started again as soon as the police left. Some speculate that McBride may have been using his position of power, along with others in the department, to cover up his tracks, but how credible can this really be?

“It’s absolutely credible, if you ask me!”, Scootaloo confidently stated.

The other two weren’t sure if they could agree with that, but they kept silent and allowed the story to build the case for this McBride theory or poke holes in it. Apparently, some police departments in the human world have infamous “codes of silence”. However, the narrator posits that if there were such depravity occurring, someone would have eventually blown the whistle. Other theories are far-reaching, but not without some merit and certainly not without intrigue. After analysis, it was claimed that the voice heard in all of the recorded phone calls was female. 

Scootaloo smirked, ready to have yet another one of her theories from earlier, this time the theory that Rob’s first wife was the killer, validated. Except, it was instead explained how this tidbit lead some to believe that Cindy had been involved romantically with another woman. Scootaloo simply blinked in blank-faced confusion as the narrator further elaborated how people theorized that Cindy may have been secretly gay and that’s why she had trouble opening up to friends and family, as she was struggling to come to terms with her sexuality. The theory goes that shortly after separating from Roy, Cindy started a short-lived relationship with a female associate, and that this associate was there who went on to stalk her.

“Why would she need to keep the fact that she likes girls secret?”, Scootaloo finally turned to her fellow Crusaders to see if they could let her know if she was indeed missing something.

“Ah’m not sure what they’re gettin’ at either.”, Apple Bloom replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

With an apprehensive look, Sweetie Belle spoke up, “So, neither of you know?”.

Each wearing their own curious expressions, both shot back, “Know what?”

With one hoof awkwardly rubbing the back of her head, Sweetie began to explain, “It wasn’t always allowed for ponies of the same gender to love each other here in Equestria.”

“Woah! What!?”

Saying that Scootaloo was astounded would be an understatement. As somepony with two legal guardians who are a same sex couple, hearing this was like being told that the sun and moon used to rise and fall on their own. 

“Wh-why’d they have a problem with that?”, Apple Bloom said, nearly matching Scootaloo’s shock and confusion.

“I don’t know. It was a long time ago, but Rarity told that whatever reason they had was never a good one.”, Sweetie Belle frown somehow grew even more depressed. “But most ponies were so uncool with it, that if you told your parents you were gay way back in those days, they apparently would disown you and kick you out of the house.”

Scootaloo stifled a gasp by placing a hoof over her mouth, before removing to ask Sweetie one more question.

“How long ago was this?”

“Umm… I think she told me that all of that pretty much died out like several hundred years ago.”, she said while rubbing her chin.

“Phew.”

Scootaloo could at least take comfort in the fact that Aunt Lofty and Holiday probably didn’t go through something like that and never telling her about it.

“So, ah guess these humans haven’t gotten pass their whole anti-gay thing yet?”, Apple Bloom wondered. “How awful.”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure this takes place many years ago. Maybe they have left that behind them by now?”, Sweetie Belle said.

The secret lesbian lover theory, as with so many others, still falls victim to the fact that the investigation failed to identify a single perpetrator, male or female. Two final theories suggest that Cindy’s mental instability played a crucial role in her death. Out of the three fillies, Apple Bloom was possibly most interested in hearing this explanation, if for no other reason than to find out if she was on to something earlier. 

There is a suggestion that she suffered from a disorder known as “Munchausen Syndrome”. People with this affliction compulsively create situations around themselves, often featuring physical and psychological distress in order to generate sympathy or gain attention. Some claim that Cindy was fabricating the harassment all along and that at the time of her death she was attempting to stage another abduction. However, this time it went too far and she accidentally overdosed. 

Apple Bloom nodded in agreement, while the other two simply rolled their eyes and let out a pssht sound in dismissal. Despite feeling validated however, Apple Bloom also couldn’t help but feel unnerved. She wasn’t sure which was more disturbing: the idea that someone could do all of this to another person or that someone could follow a path so literally self-destructive in all sense of the word.

Finally, there is the very chilling possibility that Cindy unwittingly stalked and killed herself. None of the fillies had any idea where the story was going with that statement, but their interest was certainly piqued. Apparently, it has been suggested that she suffered from Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID). It is more commonly known as multiple personality disorder, where a person’s psyche contains two or more completely different and independent personalities who each take turns controlling the physical body. During episodes where a recessive personality takes over, the sufferer may black out - completely unaware of what they are doing whilst not in control. 

In Cindy’s case, her recessive personality may have been a product of her loneliness as a child, which developed an unnatural detachment and self-loathing of the body it inhabited, ultimately wanting to destroy itself. In this way, the recessive personality may have tormented and attacked Cindy’s dominant personality. This would explain her blackouts and the fact that nobody else was ever witnessed assaulting her. Throughout this entire explanation, Scootaloo had been rubbing her temples with both hooves.

“You girls having trouble following this? Cause I sure am.”

“I can’t believe this is somehow the craziest story yet, even though there’s no aliens or monsters involved!”, Sweetie Belle stated.

“So, is there a depraved murderer walking free in British Columbia to this day?”, the narrator asked.

“Wait, ah don’t remember that bein’ the name of the place. Wasn’t it suppose ta be Vancouver or Richmond or somethin’?”, Apple Bloom struggled to recall with clarity.

“Does anypony else notice that sounds almost exactly like Vanhoover?”, Scootaloo pointed out.

“What is with the similar names!?”, Sweetie Belle exclaimed.


The narrator further pondered whether Cindy James was in fact stalking herself, knowingly or otherwise? Or did the answer lie somewhere else entirely? This case is said to be one of the most talked about and divisive in recent memory with new theories coming to light even now. Despite this, the question of who killed Cindy James remains unanswered and, sadly, it seems this will likely remain so for the foreseeable future. 

Often, when a case such as this receives such exposure, there can be a tendency to trivialize and factionalize events for entertainment. With that, the narrator made it a point to note that neither he nor the viewer knew Cindy James as a person, and cannot so rashly pass judgment upon her. She was a living, breathing human being, with friends and family who still mourn her death and love her to this day. 

“To those closest to her, we hope all the questions surrounding this case will one day be answered. May Cindy rest in peace.”, the Narrator concluded in a manner most respectful.

Apple Bloom now remembered the concerns back at the beginning about disrespecting the dead for the sake of entertainment. She now felt glad that she didn’t have to feel guilty for watching. The writers thankfully took into account to remind everyone that these were in fact real people whose deaths had an actual impact on those around them. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say that would be enough for Applejack to be okay with her watching this. 

“So, your thoughts?”, Sweetie Belle asked the rest of the room.

“Ah feel like this is the reason mah sister prioritizes honesty so much. Cuz otherwise ya get cases like this that can’t be solved because no one involved is trustworthy.”

Scootaloo gave Apple Bloom a perplexed look, “Umm… not quite what I got from this, but I can see what you mean. A lot of the people were pretty shady.”

“Girls, I meant your thoughts on who did it!”, Sweetie Belle reiterated. 

“Ohhh, that!”, Scootaloo said while giving her forehead a pat with her hoof. “I mean, I think we all know who it is, right?”

“Yeah, it’s definitely her ex-husband!”, Sweetie declared with confidence

“What!? No! It’s obviously that creepy cop!”, Scootaloo retorted incredulously.

“Seriously!? What makes him a better suspect than Roy?”, Sweetie Belle shot.

“Weren’t you listening to me or the story itself earlier? His connections as a police officer meant he’d know when the secret stake outs at Cindy’s would begin and end. He could call on some of his cop buddies to cover up for him.” 

Scootaloo paused to recall the other point she had to raise, “Oh! And the fact that he wanted Cindy and that this whole situation just so happened to give him the chance to be her brave protector. It all just adds up!”

Sweetie merely eye rolled, “Does he also have friends in the police forces from the towns wasn’t apart of? How did he get the Richmond police who didn’t know him to cooperate?”

Sweetie might have let Scootaloo try and fail to explain that, but she just wasn’t done. 

“Also, what about that time Roy was seen spying on Cindy from behind her house? You can’t tell me you ACTUALLY believed him when he said that he was just protecting her, when she didn’t even know he was there!”

“I remember them saying Roy had alibis for most of those attacks.”

“Well maybe he didn’t do them himself. Maybe he hired some sort of thug to do his dirty work for him.”

Scootaloo was not prepared for an explanation to that quickly.

“Okay. But why would he do that?”, she quickly shot back at Sweetie.

“It’s so obvious why! You even made created the motive for it earlier!”

Sweetie pointed a hoof at the orange pegasus before continuing, “Remember how you just said that the officer was trying to secretly trying to scare her into his arms at first?”

Scootaloo frantically looked away then back to Sweetie Belle as she used her own reasoning against her.

“Then when it wasn’t working, he apparently just did it to punish before finally killing her? Why wouldn’t also Roy do all that for the same reasons?”, the unicorn filly finally concluded.

“W-well, let’s just put it to a group vote, then!”, Scootaloo’s self-satisfied grin returned to her face with renewed vigor. “Go ahead, Apple Bloom. Tell her why she’s being ridiculous and that I’m obviously correct!” 

Apple Bloom shifted uncomfortably under both her friends’ gaze as they expectantly waited for her to join the conversation that she wanted no part of.

Reluctantly, she began to speak up, “Ah think the both of ya are just bein’ stubborn. Sides’, y’all forgettin’ that ain’t proper to make stories out of a tragedy like this.”

“We literally just watched and listened to a story that detailed all the murder’s juicy details. Now stop copping out on us and tell us who it was!”, Sweetie Belle complained, impatient to see her own theory crowned the winner.

“Fine!”, Apple Bloom said while throwing both her forehooves in the air as an expression of aggravation and reluctant compliance.

She lowered both her hooves to cross them together over her chest before saying, “If y’all really want my humble opinion, ah think you’re both wrong.”

“What???”, Scootaloo said.

“*groan…Well, then WHO was it then? You have a better idea?”, Sweetie Belle challenged.

Apple Bloom was quiet for a moment before quickly answering, “Ah think she really did kill herself.”

“Oh come on!”

“You actually believe that?”

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo both berated the farm filly upon giving her stance.

“Yes, ah believe that! Cuz it’s the only theory that explains everythin’!”

“How?”, Scootaloo and Sweetie asked in sync.

“Well, the most obvious thing is how this so-called stalker never left any evidence behind. Or was ever seen!”

The two literally hoof-waved away Apple Bloom’s point.

“Then there’s that letter from her mom that she faked.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”, Sweetie Belle asked.

“It proves she has that munchin’… whatever syndrome. Ah mean that’s an instance right there of her stirrin’ up drama fer sympathy n’ attention.”

Sweetie Belle was about to retort, but she paused midway before speaking when she realized she couldn’t think of anything to disprove that claim. Scootaloo, on the other hoof, was not deterred.

“Not enough to prove she did it. What else you got?” 

“How about the fact that this stalker took so long to kill her?”, Apple Bloom pointed out.

“So what?”, Scootaloo shrugged.

“Y’all don’t find it even a little strange that even after he stabbed that note into her hand sayin’ Now You Must Die, this guy or gal still waited another few years to finally end Cindy’s life?”

Apple Bloom narrowed her eyes whilst raising one of her brows, “Even while she was boostin’ security and puttin’ ‘em at risk of bein’ caught, they still didn’t end her like they promised before it got more dangerous for them. Almost like her death was never suppose’ ta happen.”

“Uhh…”, the pegasus filly struggled for a moment to find any holes in Apple Bloom’s point. “He just liked making her suffer! It took a long time for the sick jollies the killer got from tormenting her to run out. Big deal!”

“Okay. Then you try n’ tell me why the killer didn’t even hide Cindy’s body. Cuz the way ah see it, the explanation is that ya can’t bury a body if the one ya killed is yerself!”

Apple Bloom declared to the pegasus filly before adding, “And ya can’t tell me y’all forgot about the time she was cool as ice watchin’ her house, but then turned into a blubberin’ mess once the police showed up!

“Whatever! None of this still proves anything!”, Sweetie Belle spoke up for the first time in a while.

“Grrrrr! It’s like no matter what ah say, ya can’t hear or listen cuz ya both got yer heads stuck up yer own-“

“GIRLS! DINNER TIME!”

The frustrated farm filly’s rant was interrupted by a voice from downstairs. They all recognized it as Rarity calling them down to eat. However, Sweetie Belle wasn’t expecting to hear that at this time; it was only a little passed five, a whole earlier than when her sister typically had dinner ready. Nonetheless, they all looked at each other and wordlessly agreed to cut their argument short in favor a satisfying meal. Sweetie opened the door and one by one they all moved out of the bedroom and down the stairs, letting the ominous sounds of the storm outside fade behind them.