//------------------------------// // You will never escape ch1 // Story: You Will Never Escape // by Autistic Witch //------------------------------// I twisted the handle to the door of my office and walked inside. It was a very small place with only three rooms, and one of those was the bathroom. There’s a small room off to the side with a table, microwave, coffee maker, fridge, and shelves filled with various office stuff, case boxes, and dishware that served as their break room. Despite the name, we don’t actually eat in there. There wasn’t even enough room to open a folding chair. We have just enough room for one person to walk around, but that was it. The main room was longer than it was wide, but it did have enough room where we don’t have to shimmy past each other. Rarity’s desk sat at the back of the room with her facing the front door and her back to the one nice thing about this place, a decent sized window that let in ample light. My desk sat opposite a nice-ish couch. It’s to your immediate right when you enter the office. Rarity herself sat at her desk, head deep in something and not even seeming to notice my presence. “You’re gonna get yourself shot if you lose track of the world.”, I remarked. Rarity nearly jumped out of her seat as her shot head up. “Fuck! Oh, Sunset, darling, you can’t keep doing that. Unless you want to kill me and take full ownership of the business, in that case, keep doing that.” I walked up to Rarity’s desk and looked down at what she was doing. “What’s got you so engrossed anyway?” On Rarity’s desk was her design sketchbook with a few new entries. “You’re still working on this?” “Well, yes, I still want to be a fashion designer.” “What? Why would you want to give all this up? We work in a shoebox, get shot at, screamed at by the helicopter parents of “missing kids” and abusive exes, and get to wait around for hours and hours, and we don’t even have to seduce pretty ladies like the movies made us think we would.”, I joked. “Ah, yes, the joys of the PI business. Speaking of missing kids, we got another one.” Rarity pulled out a box from under her desk and placed it in front of me. The name ‘Wallflower Blush’ was written on the front, along with the case number and the start date (today’s date). Inside were the case notebook, a set of keys, and a diary. “Wallflower, why does that name sound familiar?” “Because she went to high school with us.” “Hardly a kid. I’ll make a few calls.” I grabbed the box and took it back to my desk. I plopped my backpack on the floor, took the notebook out and looked at what was already in it. Work called mom asking where she was. Not in her apartment. There’s no law against disappearing. No friends, no romantic relationships, Dad’s dead, lives alone. “Uh-oh”, I said with genuine concern. “That’s what I thought.”, Rarity commented. “Did you discuss the possibility with the mom?” “No, she didn’t seem to have that concern, and she could just be an introvert.” “So is literally every one of us, except for Pinkie, and there’s seven of us.” Rarity shrugged. “Some people are just more extreme.” “Alright, I assume the keys are for Wallflower’s place and car.” “Yes, the address is in the book.” I pulled out my phone and rang up Pinkie. Girl’s got the city tapped like a maple tree. “Pinkie’s Bakery and Café, cakes, jokes, and a party place just an ask away, Pinkie Pie here.”, Pinkie said in her cheerful business voice. “The woman, the myth, the Lovecraftian creature, it’s Pinkie Pie.” “Hey, Sunset,” she said in her actually cheerful voice, “lunch or intel?” “Intel, Wallflower Blush.” “Okay, um, Wallflower, Wallflower-” “She went to high school with us.” “Oh yeah, Wallflower, I remember her now. What do you need to know?” “Do you think she’s capable of killing herself?” “Honestly, I don’t know.” “But you know everything about everyone.” “Yeah, but she, well, to borrow a turn of phrase, she was a background character in her own show. She’s absolutely unremarkable in every sense of the word. Sorry I couldn’t help you more.” “That’s alright. I have her diary. I’m not out of avenues yet.” “Good to hear. I’ll talk to you later. Bye” “Bye” I hung up and pulled out the diary. It was locked, but it was a lock only meant to keep out nosy siblings. I grabbed my hammer from my drawer, and with one good smack, the lock popped open. I never understood why people kept these things. The school counselor suggested I keep one after my mental breakdown at the Fall Formal, but I just couldn’t ever bring myself to put anything on paper. I skimmed through the pages but they were fairly normal, complaining about school/work, what happened that day, until the last few entries. It was nothing suggesting she was planning on ending her life or leaving. It was stranger than that. “Dear diary, This is going to sound strange, but I think someone’s stalking me. There’s this black, shadowy figure lurking on the other side of the street. It hasn’t moved all night. I can’t see its eyes, but I know it’s staring at me. I’m scared to go to bed, but I have work in the morning.” “Dear diary, It’s in the middle of the street. It’s still standing as still as a statue. It was gone in the morning, and I thought I was safe, but it’s back. Nobody else seems to notice it. They just drive by it. Am I going crazy?” “Dear diary, It’s on my side of the street now. It’s right in front of the lobby doors. People are walking through it. They don’t see it. I’m going to talk to my therapist.” “Dear diary, It’s in the lobby now, right next to the stairs. My therapist wrote me a prescription for antipsychotics, but they haven’t taken effect. I’m too scared to stay here. I’m going to a motel.” “Dear diary, That didn’t work. It just followed me to the motel. I saw it in the parking lot. I came home because there was no way I was staying in a motel with it watching me, and now it followed me back here. It’s on the first landing. I hope these antipsychotics start working soon.” “Dear diary, It’s on the second floor landing. The meds still aren’t working. My neighbors are looking at me funny when I shimmy past the thing.” “Dear diary, Situation’s unchanged. It will be on my floor tomorrow.” “Dear diary, It’s on my floor now. I can see it from my door. It is reeeeally creepy seeing it just standing there. It has no features at all. It’s just a human shape inside a black cloud. Thankfully, it’s Friday, because I don’t have enough room to go around it. Hopefully, the meds will start working before Monday.” “Dear diary, It’s in front of my door now. I’m going to die. I just know it.” “Dear diary, It’s at the door to my room. I’ll be dead before morning.” That was the last entry. I didn’t know what to believe. For now, I was going to get my boots on the ground. I put my hammer back and exchanged the diary for the case book and keys. “I’m off.” “Okay, see you tomorrow.” I checked the address real quick then placed the book and keys in my backpack and headed to the garage. Despite the cheap nature of the building, it had reserved and secured underground parking. However, in line with the cheap nature of the building, only one spot was included with the rent, and extras cost a kidney each. But the oh so devious minds at Shimmering Diamond Detective Agency had a work around, i.e. the landlord, who I called Skunky (both definitions fit), was too drunk whenever he came around to notice my bike hidden behind a corner pillar. Getting it in and out could be a challenge, but it was better than the alternatives. The tenant in the spot that served as my entry and exit point was also a bike rider and a cool guy. He parks off to the side for me. I hopped on my bike, rode to the gate, punched in the code, and headed off to Wallflower’s apartment. Gray clouds blanketed the sky, just like they had for the past several weeks, casting the world into a gray filter. Climate change had not been kind to Canterlot or her surrounding suburbs. My journey brought me to one of the nicer parts of the city. It’s not boujee but also not as run down as the part of town the our office is in. The address belonged to one of the many apartment buildings in the city that are, what one would call, boring and ugly. The entire thing was lifeless gray with just a bunch of windows. I found a place to park and entered the lobby. It was a bit nicer inside with a colorful rug and some well taken care of plants, but the walls were still gray concrete. There was the typical wall of mailboxes next to the stairs in the back of the lobby and two doors guarded by a digital keypad lock, one for each side wall. It all came out to, front door, locked door, stairs, mailboxes, locked door. Fortunately for me, each door had the letters of the apartments they led to on a plaque next to them, i.e. A-H and I-P. Okay, 3C. I took the keys out and checked Wallflower’s mailbox. Yes, it’s illegal, and I’m possibly earning the ire of one of the most well funded and the single most bored government agency, but this could save a life. Bills, bills, junk, junk, lots of junk, porn. “Hm, girl’s got taste.” With nothing like personal letters or anything else, I stuffed the porn mag in my backpack and everything else back into the mailbox. Next step was to head upstairs and search the apartment. As I ascended the stairs, another resident came out to the stairs. “Hi, are you a new tenant?”, the resident asked. “No, I’m a PI. I’m investigating the disappearance of Wallflower Blush.” “Who?” “The girl in 3C.” That didn’t do it. “Green hair, brown eyes, mint skin, ring a bell?” “Uuh, maybe. Are you sure you have the right building? I know pretty much everybody in this building.” “I’m quite positive.” “Alright, I hope ya find ‘er.” The resident continued down the stairs, and I continued up. The other floors were the same layout as the lobby, just replace the mailboxes with trash and recycling shoots and the front door with one large window. A couple nice looking chairs and a coffee table sat in front of the window on each floor. Upon getting to the third floor and approaching the A-H door, I punched in the four digit code. 0428, not a bad way to remember a code. Entering the hallway, it was actually fairly nice. They were still more subdued and more natural colors, but it wasn’t lifeless gray. The floor was some sort of dark colored wood, the walls were still gray but a lighter gray that was less “greetings, comrade” looking, and it was well lit. In terms of decoration, all it had were what the residents put out themselves. The hallway was one straight line, so Wallflower’s apartment was easy to find. I unlocked the door and entered. There were a lot of plants inside the apartment. It was practically an indoor forest. “Maybe the plants ate her.” I slipped off my biking gloves and put on a pair of forensic gloves then crept my way through the apartment, unable to see the whole apartment from one spot with all the plants in the way. The windows were surprisingly large for a cold war era looking building which gives the plants their needed sunlight. My first cursory search brought up nothing. Aside from the plants, it was a normal apartment. It was obviously lived in but otherwise clean. The plants all seemed to be accounted for too, and some of them are expensive. “Either not financial or the perp didn’t realize how valuable these things are.” Neither’s impossible. My musing was cut off by a knock on the open door. “Hello?”, someone called out. I hurried over to where I could see and could be seen from the door while trying to find my license. “Hi, sorry, I’m not a robber.” I finally found my license as I came into view of the door. A girl with red hair, green eyes, and cream skin stood in the doorway with a skeptical look on her face, a girl I recognized. “Roseluck” Roseluck’s face turned to the type of confused look that someone gets when they’re trying to figure out if they know someone then quickly shifted to surprise. “Sunset?” Roseluck’s face quickly regained her skeptical look but now also had a hint of anger mixed in. “What are you doing in Wallflower’s apartment?” “You know Wallflower? That’s great.”, I said with excitement, choosing to ignore her anger. She did have a right to hate me, in all fairness. “I’m a private investigator looking into her disappearance.”, I said while handing Roseluck my license. Roseluck took the license tentatively and scrutinized it every way she could short of tearing it apart. “Wow, I honestly expected you to be in prison. Never would’ve imagined you’d be on this side of the law.”, Roseluck said as she handed my license back. “Harsh but fair. I don’t mean this as an excuse; I knew what I was doing and am responsible for my actions. I just believe you deserve an explanation. I’ll understand if you never want to forgive me.” “Alright, let’s hear it.”, Roseluck said while crossing her arms. “I was not mentally well. I’m still not, but I’m now better at handling it. I took all my frustration and anger out on everybody else. It wasn’t fair to you or anyone else. I am truly sorry.” Roseluck had no reaction other than a nod of her head. “I see.” Roseluck then got a more sympathetic look on her face. “Your voice hasn’t cleared up.” I nodded my head. I understood why she would bring it up but still didn’t like when it was. “How did it even get like that? I just remember you disappearing for a week then coming back with a messed up voice.” I internally cringed. This was about as far from a happy memory as one could get. “It was my mom. She hated me but hated not having control over me even more. She realized she was losing that control, so she tried to choke me to death. She didn’t, obviously, but my throat was still damaged.” The face Roseluck made could only be described as pure horror and realization. “That explains…” Just about every emotion there was flashed across her face before finally settling on the face a person makes when they just don’t know how to respond. “What about Wallflower?” I welcomed the change of subject and took out a pen and the notebook and opened it to a clean page. “Her work called her mom and said she hadn’t come into work, and she wasn’t in her apartment when her mom went to check on her. She texted and called her but got no answer. With still no response the next day, she went to the police, but without any evidence of a crime, the cops couldn’t do anything. It’s not illegal to disappear. I’m trying to find any evidence of a crime the police can use to start working. When was the last time you saw her?” “We don’t talk much aside from plant care. We’ll trade clippings and let the other borrow tools and fertilizer, but I wouldn’t exactly call us friends.” “Would you be able to tell if any of her plants are missing?” “You think someone did something to her for her plants?” “Wouldn’t be the first time. I learned more about botany in that one month than in all of high school.”, Sunset deadpanned. That got Roseluck to snort a laugh. “I’ll take a look.” I moved out of the way and let Roseluck in. Roseluck walked around the apartment and looked at all the plants. “I don’t think anything’s missing, but I don’t have every plant of hers committed to memory.”, Roseluck called from within the foliage. “That’s okay.” I took note of the plants and that none of them seemed missing along with what Roseluck said about their relationship. Roseluck returned from her nature trek and stood in front of me. “What now?” “I have a few more questions, if you’re willing to answer them.” “Shoot. I wanna help Wallflower, if I can.” “Good. Firstly, do you know if Wallflower has any friends?” “I don’t think so. I know she doesn’t have any social media other than a WatchTube account, which doesn’t have any videos.” “Any romantic partners?” “Definitely not. She once joked that she has way too many children to take care of to even think about dating.” “Children?”, I asked, very confused. Roseluck just gestured around to all the plants. “Oh, ha ha.”, I half-heartedly laughed. “Has she mentioned any problems she might be having or any major life changes?” “No” “How would you describe her mental state?” “You think she killed herself?”, Roseluck asked with concern. I only responded with a shrug. “She seemed okay. She kept to herself but didn’t seem depressed.” “Depression can be hard to notice. Some people hide it by acting happy and making jokes.” “That also doesn’t sound like her. She was pretty chill. She didn’t seem sad or overly happy. Though, she was acting kinda weird for the last few days.” “Walking around something that wasn’t there in the staircase and lobby, acting fearful, and looking at something that wasn’t there?” “Yeah, how’d you know?” “Her mom gave us her diary, and she wrote that she was being watched by a shadow figure. It only started a few days ago, and those were the last entries. She expressed that she knew she was going to die.” “That’s terrifying. I had no idea she had such terrifying hallucinations.” I nodded in agreement, but there was something that told me that she wasn’t experiencing mere hallucinations. My rational mind knew that was impossible, but the part of my mind that thrived on horror and the fantastical said otherwise. “Is there anything more I can help you with?” “No, I have no more questions.” “Okay” Roseluck left the apartment, leaving me to my own devices once again. I wrote down the summary of our conversation then put the book and pen back into my bag. I then walked back into the bedroom to have a closer look. Like the rest of the apartment, the bedroom was covered in plants. I began looking around the room and found nothing out of order. It looked like all her clothes were still in the closet, her suitcases were definitely still here, and Wallflower’s phone, wallet and keys in her nightstand drawer. The wallet still had her cards and some cash in it, and there were even some coins in the drawer. Definitely not robbery. If she was taken, it would’ve been from here, and everybody would’ve heard that. Who still uses coins? With the possibility of robbery thrown out and abduction looking less likely, I began looking for any sort of note, but there was nothing. I went into the bathroom and looked into the medicine cabinet. Inside, I found the bottle of antipsychotics. Shit Running out of options, I grabbed Wallflower’s keys and headed downstairs and out to the parking garages. I stuck out the fobby and clicked the lock button. I didn’t hear anything so began walking around the garages while continuing to click the lock button until I heard Wallflower’s car beep. Car’s still here. Keys and wallet are still here. Expensive plants are still here. All her clothes are still here. Med’s still here. The apartment’s in order. It’s like she literally ran away without taking anything. Letting out an annoyed huff, I returned to Wallflower’s apartment. I returned the keys to the drawer, took pictures of the lack of out of place and missing anything, and grabbed the phone. Hopefully, the mom knew the password. If not, Twilight could likely get into it. I left and locked up the apartment. It was no guarantee, but this might be enough to get the police going. I would take it to the police once we got into the phone. I returned to the office and parked in my typical spot. As I headed to the elevator, I bumped into Rarity returning from her own case with a tired look on her face and her camera in her hand. “So, will this relationship be crumbling or standing strong?”, I asked. “Standing strong, the wife isn’t cheating. She’s working to set up a reunion of her husband’s old band. They didn’t split on the best of terms, but they all still want to see each other again. It’s just taking some convincing, and that’s what the husband’s friend saw.”, Rarity explained as they got into the elevator. “What are you going to tell the husband?” “That he’s not being cheated on and to just have some faith in his wife.” “Hehe, y’know, it’d be nice to get the seven of us back together sometime, have one big jam sesh sleepover, just like when we were kids.” “Hm, that would be nice.”, Rarity said fondly. “How’s your case going?” I pulled Wallflower’s phone out of my bag and showed it to Rarity. “This is Wallflower’s. Her car, wallet, and keys were also still in her apartment along with travel bags and all her clothes. She has what seemed like a hundred plants, some of which are very expensive, and she joked they’re her children. Her diary also suggests she was having some kind of psychotic episode.” The elevator reached our floor, and we continued our walk to the office as I tucked the phone back into my bag. The hallways of the building are long, narrow, winding, and poorly lit with these crappy ass lights. Walking with someone in these halls means walking in a single file line or being shoulder to shoulder. The walls are covered in a light yellow colored wallpaper with a faded vertical design with the lower third covered in that old, weird wood paneling. All the wood from the floor to the doors is a medium brown. The space is shadowy, really ugly, and garnered the building the nickname of “The Backrooms”. People in the building would do everything from tear down walls, take up extra parking spots without paying (at least for a while), and they had even put up extensive signage to help people find whatever business they were looking for, but the hallway’s god awful design was the one thing Skunky actually cared if anyone did anything about. A lot of people in the building suspect he still thinks it’s whatever decade this style was popular in and that was the last decade he was sober. The advantage to his drunkenness was that basically everyone was able to paint their units to not look like a fever dream, remove the paneling, and fix their lights without him caring. “You’re worried she ran away, without taking anything, because of some sort of psychotic break. I’ll call the mom and ask for the password.”, Rarity said as she pulled out her phone. “Thank you. If she doesn’t have it, I’ll ask Twilight to help.” Rarity nodded but didn’t say anything as the mom picked up. “Hello, Ms. Blush, this is Dt. Rarity from- Yes, exactly. We found your daughter’s phone but not yet your daughter. You wouldn’t happen to have the password, would you? No? Okay, thank you. No, we’re not out of options. We just need your permission to hack into your daughter’s phone. - Very good, we’ll have our tech expert open it up for us. Yes yes, have a good day.” Rarity hung up her phone and looked up at me. I nodded back as we entered our office, the clean, white walls and fully functioning lights offering our eyes relief from the hallway. We couldn’t do much about the floor, but it looked better when not paired with that yellow. Each of us headed back to our desks, and I deposited the notebook and keys back into the case box. We both booted up our computers and began the process of downloading our pictures and adding them to our case files and writing up our reports with me also scanning in the diary entries. Both of us have freakishly good memories, so this was easy. The notebooks existed as a summary to help jog our memories while out in the field or in case the files got corrupted, which has happened before. Once my write-up was complete, I put the case box in the shelves that hold all our physical evidence. The boxes we use are kinda like banker boxes, but their dimensions are closer to a shoebox. They’re the type of boxes girls used to organize their room back when the two of us were in high school. We do have banker boxes, but they’re rarely needed. Rarity’s case didn’t have any physical evidence other than the notebook, so when she came in, it was just added to this year’s miscellaneous notebooks banker box, and its case number was added to the side. The case numbers consisted of the year and then month in which it was started and then 1, 2, 3 etc, for example, 2032-10-4. I took a step back, as much of a step as I could take in such a small space, and looked over all the boxes. Three years of working for Spear Investigations and five years of work to build up our reputation, and these boxes are the culmination of all of it. It was both a good and bad feeling, a feeling of pride and a sense of sadness. Our job is built on other’s troubles. Dozens of relationships down the drain, and reunions of human and stolen animal and everything in between. It was all a part of the job, the highs making one feel elated, and the lows making one want to bawl their eyes out. “Rarity, are you happy with how your life turned out?” “I’m not unhappy with it, but this isn’t what I wanted to do for the rest of it. I thought it would be a fun way to work through college, I’d be just like Shadow Spade, but then nobody wanted to hire me as a designer, and those who did wanted me to move too far away. I like the job, but not being able to work at my dream job kinda soured it, but you make it better.” I smiled at Rarity, a warm feeling welling up in my chest. “Thank you.” “How about you?” “My life’s the best it’s ever been. I have a kitchen, an actual full kitchen.” “Hff, it’s really sad that’s how you evaluate your life being good.” “I mean, I never had my own kitchen before.” “True. Anyway, I’m going to take off. Are you coming?” “Yeah” We headed back out into the main office and locked up the breakroom. We gathered up our personal stuff and locked everything up before heading back down to the garage. The building was closed for the night, meaning the crappy hallway lights were dimmed, making the liminal-esque space even creeper. It wasn’t dark enough to need flashlights, but we couldn’t easily see either. It felt like something would jump us whenever we approached a corner, and the echoes from our footsteps made it sound like there were more people we couldn’t see, which didn't help. Both of us knew we were being irrational, but I still caught a glimpse of Rarity checking to make sure she had her gun’s in her shoulder holster. This prompted me to check my own gun and my knife that’s strapped across the back of my belt. “Hey, Sunset, if I were a flavor, what would I be?”, Rarity asked, trying to lighten the situation. “Um, mint.” “Why mint?” Rarity sounded confused and maybe even slightly incensed. “I don’t know. You ask me such an odd ball question out of left field. What do you expect me to answer?” “Okay, fair. I say you’d be capsaicin. You’re a spicy darling.” “Ha! Yeah, I am.” We finally made it to the well lit elevator, but the light only seemed to make the rest of the floor seem darker. We quickly got in, and Rarity pressed the doors close button before pressing the button for the garage. Every horror movie elevator scene flashed through my head as the doors were closing, expecting something to rush us from the darkened hallway, but this isn’t a horror movie, so nothing happened. Even as the elevator descended, there was no sound of something jumping down onto the top and trying to rip it open like a tuna can. “Hey, Rare, how old is Skunky?” “He’s ‘I’m surprised he’s not dead yet’, especially with his drinking habits but not ‘go get the stakes’.” I let out a low growl of annoyance. Short of the building getting a new owner, we weren’t getting better lighting or a less creepy paint job. “What do you think are our chances of murdering him and getting away with it?” Rarity hummed her “I’m thinking” melody for a while before answering, telling me she was getting a legitimate answer ready. “Nowadays, low. There are cameras everywhere. I highly doubt he’d have any, but his neighbors definitely will. Even if we could get in and out without detection, how would we do it? We can’t use our guns.” “Wait until he passes out and stab him in the neck.” “But then the investigation. We’d likely lose business while that’s going on.” That put the kibosh on my dreams of murder. There was a reason I haven’t gone on vacation in the last 8 years. “Aw, poo” The doors opened to what we call the lock room, which kept random people from just getting into the elevators, and the two of us headed to our respective vehicles. The garage was much better lit and more open than the rest of the building, resulting in us feeling safer in a place that’s only protection from the street is a couple of those automated karate chop arm gates that can only stop vehicles; that’s definitely not what they’re called, but that’s the motion they make, and I didn’t know what they were called. Either way, that should tell you just how creepy the hallways are. Unlike Rarity, my destination was not my own home. Instead, I was headed to the purple nerd’s place. To say Twi lives in a nice part of town would be an understatement. It was still filled with high-rises, but these were the fancy-schmancy places where everyone had two whole floors to themselves and gold encrusted toilet seats. Okay, they don’t all have whole floors to themselves, and I could neither confirm nor deny if people had gold crappers, but the two story apartments are normal here. Street parking could be hit or miss around these parts, but it was generally easy to find a spot. I did manage to find a spot and hurried out of the cold and into Twilight’s building. Twi’s building was a trip but a very pretty trip. There’s a large indoor water feature with koi that went straight through the lobby, was surrounded by live foliage, and had bridges crossing it. The ceiling over that section of the lobby is glass, and there are lounge chairs surrounding the water feature. The whole thing created an indoor outdoor scene. Aside from the indoor outdoor space was the front desk, the elevators, the stairs in the corner, and a lounge area without direct sunlight that also had a staffed coffee bar. The place was basically a fancy hotel with permanent residents. The only thing this place didn’t come with that a hotel normally does is house cleaning. Residents have to arrange that themselves, but the building does have a contract with a local company that gives their residents a discount. I hurried over to the elevators as the lobby always gave me the feeling I wasn’t supposed to be there. I couldn’t fully explain it, but it felt like the people were silently judging me or something like that. Whereas the office had a feeling of irrational danger from some unseen creature, this place had a feeling of danger from being stared at and that, at any moment, security would come attack me. Both are unsettling, but the latter had a tinge of indignant rage whereas the former was fueled by instincts while being familiar. As I got on the elevator, a man named Mr. Neighsay joined me. Dude’s an unpleasant motherfucker in both looks and personality, being the human embodiment of a weasel. I could feel his eyes on me, and I was glad I had kept my helmet on instead of leaving it in its tail box. Then again, maybe the helmet was why he was staring. My helmet completely covered my face, and the visor was opaque enough that you would have to be close to see through it. This gave me the opportunity to give him the side eye without being noticed. He was a big shot private lawyer from a powerful family known for screwing over the little guy. I had dealt with him before and managed to derail a couple of his cases before by recovering that one deleted email and stuff like that. But his and his family’s practices were only a major reason why I hate him. He also has those eyes; they were the exact same color as mine. I hate having to look at them or him looking at me. “Can I help you?”, I asked, stretching my vocal training to make my voice sound even gravellier than normal. I could make it sound like I was gargling fire. The man looked away from me, but that only eased me back to how I was before he was looking at me. As soon as it reached Twi’s floor, I jogged off the elevator and to Twilight’s apartment. I rang her doorbell and, luckily, didn’t have to wait long for Twi to answer. I was surprised to see her in a bathrobe, but that didn’t lessen the relief I felt. “Hey, biker girl.”, Twilight said with a flirtatious smile. “Do I get to see what’s under that robe?” “Why don’t you come in and find out.” Twilight moved out of the way, and I practically bolted inside. Twilight closed the door and turned to me with a slightly disappointed look. “Seriously, Sunset, these people aren’t out to get you. I’m positive they barely notice you.” I took my helmet, face mask, and backpack off and placed all three on Twi’s kitchen counter. My nerves were still on edge and were unlikely to settle. “I can feel their eyes on me. In my line of work, you either trust your instincts or end up on an autopsy table, and my instincts are telling me they do notice me and scorn my presence.” Twilight spooned me and nuzzled my neck. “Well then, they’re stupid. You’re just as much of a smarty pants businessy woman as they are.” “You and I both know that’s not what they’re judging me for.” “Still stupid, especially since one of my wealthiest neighbors suspects her wife is cheating on her.” “How do you know this?” “It’s obvious with the way she’s been acting, and yesterday, I asked her about it and suggested a PI firm by the name of Shimmering Diamond.” Dollar signs were in my eyes, which reminded me of what I was carrying. “Speaking of work.” “You have a phone or computer you need me to get into.” “Yes” I fished the device from my backpack and showed it to Twi. Twilight took and examined it. “Who’d it belong to?” “Do you remember a girl named Wallflower Blush? We went to high school with her.” “No, I don’t.” “That’s not surprising. Even Pinkie had a hard time remembering her.” “Damn, what happened to her?” I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. She wasn’t robbed, her car, phone, wallet, and suitcases were all still at her home, and she didn’t leave any note. She was taking antipsychotics, and I found those in the apartment as well. I’m not confident she’ll be found alive.” Twilight let out a sadden sigh and nodded. “Poor girl. That’s no way to go. Why don’t you stay here for the night. I’ll have this opened by morning anyways.” “Sure. I’m going to make myself something to eat. You hungry?” “I already had dinner, but I’ll join you for dessert.” Twi gave me a pat on the back as she took the phone back to her office. I went about making something to eat. Out of the seven of us, Twilight had the nicest place with the latest of technologies as she created many of them. The kitchen was separated from the massive living room by a breakfast counter. The kitchen itself was basically what you’d see in catalogs. I made myself some pizzadillas and walked over to the floor to ceiling windows that made up the entirety of Twi’s outside wall. Wrath, a pitch black, mean looking, Great Dane and Doberman mix Twi got after Spike’s death, merely looked at me before going back to sleep. Despite her name, size, and how she looks, she’s a sweetheart, but she is a trained guard dog. The city lights almost looked like stars, but the actual stars were drowned out and blocked out. I miss them and hope to someday live in a log cabin on a fish-filled lake, far away from anyone else and where the stars shine bright. Hopefully, people will have pulled their heads out of their asses and fixed the damn planet by then. Since there was nothing up to look at, I looked down at the people that were on the street. As I swept my gaze across the street, a black figure caught my attention. None of them were exactly easy to see, but this one was pure black and even a bit… shadowy. Without taking my eyes off the figure, I put my now empty plate down and clapped the lights off. It was now a lot easier to see outside, but the figure was still pitch black and shadowy, and I could’ve sworn it was staring at me. “Sunset, why are the lights off?” “Don’t turn them on. Just come here.” I didn’t take my eyes off of it for a second, like the moment I looked away, it would vanish. “What are you looking at?” “Down there, do you see it?”, I said, my voice becoming frantic. “See what?” “That, that shadow person, across the street.” “Sunset, I don’t see anything like that.”, Twilight said in a worried tone. She was trying to be calming, but I was in no state to be calmed. “Maybe we should skip tonight’s festivities. You aren’t looking great.” Yeah, that’s right. I haven't been getting the best sleep for the last few nights. The case is just freaking me out, and my brain’s using that as fuel for my sleep deprived paranoia. That’s it. I just need some sleep, and it will be gone in the morning. “Yeah, okay” Twi led me to her bedroom, and the two of us wound down for the night. But as I laid in bed next to Twilight, my mind swam with theories and fuel for my nightmares. What if that wasn’t just my mind playing tricks on me? What if there was something in Wallflower’s apartment that infected her and caused a rapid decline in her mental state, resulting in her having a complete mental collapse and to run away, and now, the same thing is happening to me? What if Wallflower wasn’t hallucinating, and that thing killed her, and now, it’s after me because I know about it? Have my actions doomed Twilight and Roseluck too? Am I going to die?