//------------------------------// // Protect And Serve // Story: Mortem Obire // by The Ancestor //------------------------------// BEEP BEEP BEEP Hitch awoke to a distant sound of beeping, the constant noise slowly dragging him out of sweet unconsciousness. His hopes of remaining in the comfortable confines of his bed were dashed when he checked the phone. "Half past six already..." He grumbled, getting out of bed and stifling a yawn. Hitch rubbed his eyes, exiting his bedroom and shambling down the corridor, towards his bathroom. The monotonous movement of his toothbrush gave the stallion ample time to clear the remaining cobwebs in his mind, his senses sharper than minutes before. BEEP BEEP BEEP Hitch's eyes became wide as dinnerplates as he recognised the noise. "The microwave!" He yelled, hastily spitting toothpaste out of his mouth into the sink, leaving the toothbrush somewhere near and rushing down the stairs with unmatched speed. The stallion squinted as he barged into his kitchen, trying to spot the offending piece of kitchen electronics, his eyes ill-adjusted to the sudden shift in illumination. Shadows shifted in the darkness of the kitchen, sunlight yet to dissapate the bituminous blackness. Hitch spotted the box-shaped device on his kitchen counter, finding it strangely silent. "What on earth was that noise?" Hitch mumbled, checking the microwave, discowering the device was powered off. A shiver went down his spine as he felt a chill breeze tickle the back of his neck, the stallion whirling around to find only the dark void of the kitchen looking back at him. "Must've been a draft or something..." He assured himself, backpedaling towards the stairs, keeping his eyes locked on the pitch-black room. Hitch found it unusually hard to break eye contact with the darkness of the kitchen. Shaking his head, the earth pony soldiered on, turning around and trotting up the stairs at a slightly faster rate than usual. As he closed the bathroom door and returned to brushing his teeth, his mind preoccupied with todays duties and chores, he failed to notice the shadows lenghtening just behind the door. "Holy hagfish you look like shit." Were probably not the words Hitch expected to hear upon entering his work office, the rather on-point comment from his colleague prompting the stallion to sigh. "That bad, huh?" Hitch replied, plopping into his chair, cup of coffee in hoof. A sip of hot liquid sent a shiver down his spine as he felt a warm sensation settle in his stomach, the world around him just a litle sharper with each passing moment. "Like death warmed over." Sprout answered with a snort, kicking back in his chair and peeking at the wall mounted clock. "Tough night?" Sprout teased, flinching once Hitch's hard gaze fell upon him. The peach stallion looked thoroughly exhausted, the bags under his eyes heavy enough to kill on impact. His coat looked a little duller, the colors seemingly faded, the same odd discoloration affecting his mane. "Just saying you should fix your sleeping schedule. Not going to last much longer at this pace." Sprout said defensively, pacifying his friend's acidic glare. "I'll have you know that I've had my eight hours of sleep." Hitch retorted, rubbing his eyes. "Alright, maybe closer to six or seven, but that's beside the point." He took another sip of the life-saving ambrosia, savouring the bitter taste. "I'm sure we got better things to do than discuss my sleep schedule-" RING RING RING Phone ringing ended that train of thought abruptly, much to Hitch's relief, prompting the stallion to reach for the reciever and pull it up to his ear. "Sheriff Hitch Trailblazer, MBPD. What's your emergency?" "Somepony broke into the library!" The voice on the line was frantic with a bit of breathlesness. "The place's a mess! You've got to find the one responcible!" A mare yelled over the line, prompting Hitch to roll his eyes. "Is there anypony in the library with you?" "No!" The mare's responce was quick, a little too quick perhaps, taking into account what followed a short moment later. "At least I think so. I didn't have the time to check the entire library!" Hitch's features hardened at the thought of the purpetrator still being at the scene of the crime, his brows furrowed as he instructed. "State your name and address." "Mary Crossings, I'm a librarian Maretime Bay Public Library." The mare stated, hearing the urgency in the Sheriff's voice. "497 Neigh Parker's drive." "Miss Crossings, try to leave the building asap, or find a secure place to hide in if you can't. Stay on the line with my assistant, I'll be there shortly." He said, recieving a quiet 'okay' in reply as he hoofed Sprout the reciever. "W-what am I gonna do?!" The thoroughly bewildered assistant blurted out, stopping the Sheriff just shy of his offic door. Hitch turned sharply, his steely gaze burrowing through the red stallion. He quickly crossed the distance between them, jabbing his hoof into the stallion's chest. "You're going to keep that mare calm, make sure nothing bad happens to her, and instruct her if it does." Just when Sprout was about to protest, Hitch raised his leg, closing Sprout's mouth with a small click. "Miss Crossing's life depends on our withers, Sprout. I need you here to keep an eye on her while I go in there to check the situation." His tone commanded no rebbutal, his gaze pinning the read stallion in place. "Do you understand?" "Y-yeah." Was all Sprout managed to croak, before Hitch disappeared from his field of view, dashing out of the office at lightning speed. Rapid wet clip-clops of hooves against brick approached the building of Maretime Bay's Public Library, morning dew mixing with petricor to form a uniquely alluring smell of a rainy morning. The streets were mostly empty at this hour, leaving the house of knowledge thankfully unattended, save for one mare supposedly stuck inside. Hitch barely managed his momentum, stopping mere inches in front of the door, before a flurry of knocks assaulted the wooden surface. "This is Sheriff Trailbrazer, MBPD. Open the door." He paused for the briefest of moments, waiting for an answer that never came. "Police, open the door!" Was the precursor to his second attempt at gaining entry, ending no better than the last. With a determined glean in his eyes and a grunt of excertion the door folded inwards, dropping to the wooden floor with a resonate thud, leaving a gaping entrance in its wake. It wasn't any particular noise that set Hitch on edge, but rather a lack of noise. His forced entrance should have elicited at least some commotion from the depths of the building, the rapid sound of hooves striking wood as they approached, or an unshure 'hello' from the library's inhabitants. But there was nothing. Not a single far off noise dared to disturb the utter silence of the library, so thick, suffocating and stale it might as well have been sealed centuries ago. Taking a tentative step forward, Hitch's movement broke the spell that loomed over the building, fetching a Г-shaped device from his saddlebags and mounting it on his fetlock. With a soft click the barrel-mounted flashlight turned on, illuminating the shadowy surroundings with cold hues. A disorganised mess of scattered tomes and torn-up papers jutted out of the oak floor, marring the intirety of the foyer. Hitch's brows furrowed as he looked over the disarray, pointing the barrel at a hallway once he deemed the immediate area clear. "Anypony there?" He yelled into the hall, waiting a few seconds before moving down the hallway, his ears at attention, listening for any possible commotion in the distance. An uncomfortable feeling made itself present in his gut as no responce came, the following silence broken only by the ringing in his ears. Hitch reached for a two-way radio, flicking through the channel until he found one that connected The Sheriff with his second in command, a low buzz eminating from the device as he pressed the button on its side. "Sprout this is Hitch, do you copy?" An uncomfortably lengthy silence accompanied Hitch as he stalked through the halls of the library, finally broken by a frantic voice. "Yeah, I can hear you just fine." His second in command blurted out, not waiting for a responce. "Hey, since you're on the line, how's the lady doing?" Worry stirred in Hitch's mind as he noted the strained tone of Sprout's voice. "I was about to ask the same thing." The following pause spoke far more than words ever could. Hitch sighed, speaking slowly and carefully. "What. Is. Mary's. Status." "I don't know!" Sprout's reply came louder than Hitch expected with a clear desperate inflection. "One moment she was fine, a little weary if anything, the next thing I know, she's screaming bloody murder and running who-knows where!" His frantic explanation and panicked tone did little to soothe Hitch, the stallion increasing his pace. "Calm down deputy! What did she tell you? Why'd she run away?" His voice was authoratative, brooking no arguement with its steely inflection, sobering the red stallion in mere moments. "I need your help to get this mare to safety!" "I-I..." Sprout began, coughing into his hoof. "I think she's been spooked by something." Hitch's grip around his gun tightened, his face twisting into a frown. There was only one thing that could've scared the mare in this situation. "So our intruder is still in the building?" He spoke aloud, more to himself that to Sprout. "This complicates things. Send some reinforcements to lock the place down, I'll get the mare to safety." "Roger that Hitch... Just be careful, alright? I never heard anypony scream like that." Sprout curtly warned, leaving Hitch in uniform silence, broken only by the sound of his hooves hitting the floor. An opening along the rightside wall grabbed Hitch's attention, the stallion slowing down as he approached it, wearily anticipating an ambush. Shining his light on the door frame, Hitch cleared his throat and spoke loud and clear, his voice steady and firm. "Anypony there?" The second the words left his lips, something scuttered in the general direction of the doorframe, the sound akin to hooves scraping against wood, muffled by both distance and obstacle. His muscles went taut at the noise, breathing quickening for but a moment, before the Sheriff steadied himself. Sound was good, no matter the source. Hitch would either apprehend the intruder, or secure the mare, a win-win situation. The stallion eyed the gun strapped to his fetlock. Now it's a matter of figuring out what goes first. "Identify yourself." His words echoed off the constricting walls of the library, no doubt reaching whoever, or whatever was just behind the corner. Whoever. Hitch reminded himself. There isn't a whatever. It was concerning that he needed the reminder. "Identify yourself." Hitch's ear twitched as he struggled to discern what he thought was a reply, eminating from the depth of the doorway, barely a whisper by the time it reached his ears. "This is a police investigation, I need you to identify yourself." Hitch repeated himself his lines firmer in their delivery this time around. They're either scared, or trying to be inconspicuous. His brows furrowed, concidering the possibilities. Or both. "This is a police investigation, I need you to identify yourself." Frustration stirred his mind as he once again failed to catch the faint responce, worry added to the mix of emotions as he realised the voice was stalling. For all I know, this is just a ruse to lure me closer for an ambush. A different thought wormed into Hitch's mind, a shiver running down his spine. Or desperate pleas of a helpless victum... "Shit." He cursed under his breath, reaching for his radio. A click of a button filled the hallway with white noise for the scant few seconds it took the device to zero-in on the right wavelength, before growing quiet. "Sprout, this is Hitch." His voice was low, hopefully out of earshot of the supposed intruder. "I've detected some movement, the target's not responding, have to engage without identification. Do you copy?" The Sheriff waited paitently for any kind of responce, ready to deal with the target in whichever way the sitiuation necessitated. Static blared into his sensetive ears, tearing his concentration to shreds with each hertz of scrambled nonsensical noise, the grating harshness of the sound melded with its unexpected appearance, a wakening a sort of fight-or-flight responce inside of the stallion. Hitch almost instinctually jerked the malfunctioning device away from his ringing ears, flinging it down the hall and out of view, caring little of its fate, besides the fact that the action caused the radio to go silent. For a prescious few moments, anyhow, as the noise returned with a vengeance mere seconds later, irritating te stallion to no end. Hitch shook his head, turning his head towards the doorframe, trying to tune out the white noise- Eminating from that very same doorframe. Hitch squinted in confusion, trying and failing to process the situation. Could his radio have ricoched somehow? A ray of light shifted to illuminate the pitch black hall, revealing an uncomfortable outline of the portable radio laid broken on the woodplanks, bits and pieces of its insides scattered all over the place. Hitch's mind raced to find a reasonable explanation, yet the pitiful attempt was snuffed out in an instant as the Sheriff detected some movement coming from the doorframe. A solid piece of black stood sickenengly proud in contrast to the pathetic ray of light attempting to illuminate it. The appendage reached from beyond the doorframe, out of the confinements of the room to snake its way up the wall in snappy, jittery movements, each one accompanied by a sickening crack. The stallion's breath hitched in his throat as he staggered backwards from the doorframe, unavoidably causing a commotion. The rest of the oily black figure followed the lone appendage soon enough, a quadrupedal shape emerging from the doorframe in an almost stop-motion like manner. It stood at least two heads higher that Hitch, standing on its two back legs that bent one too many times at what couldn't possibly be joints. Starkly contrasting against the pale light caressing its surface, the Sheriff could now see equine features dotting the figure. Its bituminous oily coat ended in faintly orange hues, the lengthy hairs of its mane fading into a washed-out magenta towards the tips. A solid shadow took over most of the creature's face, if it could even be called a face, the facade so painfully thin and skin-deep. Two bottomless black pits graced by a lining of bleached white stared through the Sheriff, pinning him in place with its unblinking gaze. Some long-buried primal instict awoke inside Hitch as he stood as still as he could under the creature's watch, all rational thought phased out of his mind in that moment. Hitch reacted with lightning-fast speed, bolting the moment he registered the choppy movements of the creature. He didn't hear the shattering of glass and the frantic hits of hooves against the floorboards behind him, neither did he feel the hundreds of stings of glass shards sinking into his flesh as he tumbled out of the window, hitting the ground hard, whirling around the moment his hooves found purchace. His gaze remained glued to the shattered window, eye contact locked with the shadow beyond the ruined window frame. Hitch held its gaze as best as he could, a shaky breath leaving his lips as the creature relented, retreating into the shadows, but not before gracing it with an almost lazy look that promised closure. Hitch only came to his senses when he felt a cloth draped over his back, some rookie hussing over his superior with a worried expression. "I don't know what to say, Hitch" Sprout's tired voice reached the Sheriff's ears as the former hoofed the latter a report. "better see for yourself." The Sheriff's eyes focused on his deputy's outstretched hoof, a neat folder carrying with itself an air of unease residing atop the appendage. It took Hitch just a moment too long to be considered normal to reach for the pile of documents, exhaustion bleeding through his posture as he settled back into his faux-leather chair. His bloodshot eyes scanned over the freshly printed bold letters, the faint smell of ink bringing a nostalgic smile to his lips for but a moment, before a thin line of taut lips took its rightful place. CASE #15 Any and all information contained in this folder is for MBPD staff viewing only, and must not be released to the public until further notice. A queasy feeling shifted in Hitch's stomach as he opened the folder, skipping over the text with a trained eye, picking out the most important parts. "At first sight the library appeared to be in a state of total disarray, however further investigation uncovered that only books were targeted by the purpetrator. After collecting and inspecting the books for damages, investigators noted that the first page of every book was missing, uneven tears at the base of the page suggesting a haste removal. With aid provided by library staff, each book was identified belonging to the package recently delivered from a joined-effort mountain expedition. Said books were found scattered randomly throughout library grounds, despite being initially placed in a dedicated section of the building. No traces of Mary Crossing were found despite a thorough search of the premesies. Recording of Mary's conversation with deputy Cloverleaf suggest foalnapping. The investigation is currently ongoing. Despite the extent of damage done by the purpetrator, no trace of them was found. Specialist checked the scene for strands of hair of hoofprints, but found nothing. Forensic sketches were drawn according to the eyewitness account of Sheriff Trailblazer, but no suspects could be linked to the image. Due to the Sheriff's questionable mental state upon the arrival of MBPD forces, combined with dubious believability of the sketch, it was dismissed." Hitch's face scrunched up in fatigue as he closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Things are looking worse than I thought. I hoped my arrival at least distracted the thing long enough for Mary to get away..." He trailed off at the though of whatever happened to the mare, but was caught unawares by the irritated groan from his companion. "Doubling down on the whole 'spooky shadow figure'? What are you, five?" Sprout's incredulous inflection wasn't lost on the Sheriff, neither was his mocking tone. "I know what I've seen, Sprout." Hitch said with a scowl, putting the folder on the table, sinking into his chair. "And I'm not going to back down just 'cause ponies refuse to see things for what they are." The Sheriff's reply forced a sigh out of the other stallion, prompting him to stand up from his chair and point a hoof and Hitch. "And how do you know how things are? Think yourself to be some kind of Neighstradamus, huh?" He snorted, shaking his head and snatching the file away. "First those weird dreams, and now hallucinations? I think you'd better see a doctor before you start spouting doomsday shit." "You think I'm making this all up!?" Hitch's posture was tense as he stood up and approached the deputy, eyeing up the folder Sprout stashed away in his table. Anger bubbled up inside the stallion as he watched Sprout's expression grow wary in responce to the Sheriff's agitated approach, glints of fear dancing in his eyes. "You think I'm out of my mind?" His voice was decibels higher than usual, causing Sprout to flinch away on reflex. "And what am I supposed to think, Hitch?" The deputy retorted, his voice starting off unsure, but growing firmer as he went on. "You claim to have been communing with deities in your dreams, look like you haven't slept in a week, and now you're seeing shadow ponies around every corner. This isn't normal, Hitch." "So what do you want me to do? Go get myself locked up in an asylum?" Hitch squinted, his tone growing venomous. "I bet you'd love to be in charge again!" "Oh for the love of-" Sprout cut himself off, snorting in exhasperation and trying to find the right words to diffuse the situation. "Hitch, I'm not saying you're crazy or anything, nopony here believes that and you know that." Sprout's voice grew quieter as the words left his lips, his posture slumping just a little as he continied. "You also know that if I tried any...funny business in your absense, ponies wouldn't just let it slide." Hitch felt a soft pressure on his shoulder, a pair of concerned eyes looking at him. "Ponies trust you, Hitch. I trust you." Hitch held his partner's gaze, scowering for any signs of deception, his mouth feeling dry as a myriad of thoughts stewed in his head. "So why can't you trust me on this?" A confusing ache in his chest made itself present as he watched Sprout sigh at the question, returning to his desk. "You look like Tartarus, Hitch. Go home early and get some sleep, see if you're feeling better tomorrow." The deputy dodged the question, reaching into his desk to pull out the folder. "I'll look over the report, see if can make sense of this nightmare." Hitch raised his hoof, about to argue when Sprout's voice invaded his senses once more. "Don't argue with me Hitch, or I'll tell nurse Evelynn on you. Then you will be getting your beauty sleep, even if it'll have to be on a medbay bed." Hitch chuckled mirthlessly at Sprout's attempt at humor, sighing and turning to walk towards the exit door. The stallion was on the precipice when a stallion's voice called to him, freezing him in place. "Oh, and Hitch?" The Sheriff turned to watch the back of his friends looming over the desk. "Have a good night." Hitch rolled his eyes, huffing and turning for the exit, leaving the deputy with a simple reply. "Likewise."