I was woken up by the sun coming in through the blinds and assaulting my eyes. Twilight had really crappy blinds. I rolled over away from the window to go back to sleep but only got another hour before the weird ass dream woke me up. I always had weird dreams whenever I took a nap or went back to bed after being woken up.
I pulled myself out of bed and walked out to the kitchen, where my helmet, mask, and backpack still sat. Wallflower’s phone sat next to said items with a sticky note with the password slapped on top. Invisible, fitting. I made myself breakfast, showered, dressed, and otherwise got ready for the day. I stuffed the phone and sticky note in my backpack as I secured it to my person once again.
“Off to save the city, I see.”, Twilight remarked. She walked in with a poop bag and Wrath and let her go back to her bed. She wore her “work clothes”, which consisted of an oversized hoodie and sweatpants. She used a separate cooling system in her office and kept it on near full blast to help her computers. “See any shadow people?”
I shook my head. “No, heh, I guess reading Wallflower’s diary spooked me more than I realized.”
“Was Wallflower seeing shadow people?”
“That’s why she was taking the antipsychotics. I’m going to take this all to the police today. They can’t ignore a mentally ill person without their meds.”
“Let’s hope they find her alive.”
“Yeah, see you later.” I put my mask and helmet on and headed out the door.
“Bye”
I hurried out of there and out to my bike as quickly as wasn’t suspicious. I wouldn’t even come anywhere near such a place if it weren’t for Twilight. There were significantly less people, but I could still feel the front desk staff staring at me.
The trip to the office took much longer from Twilight’s place, but it’s not like I ever got there “on time” anyway. We don’t even have a “be in the office” time as we're rarely in the office. What we do have is a “have your phone on” time, which my phone is. The only reason we even have the office in the first place is because laws regarding PIs have barely been updated in nearly 100 years.
Getting into the office, I only gave Rarity a small wave as she was talking to her client, took off my backpack, made myself a cup of coffee, and grabbed the evidence box from the storage room. Once I was settled and had taken a huge gulp of coffee, I grabbed the phone from my bag, opened it up, and began searching through it. The apps were your typical games, socials, a calculator, shopping, and other phone related stuff. Her only contacts were “Mom”, “Work”, “Psych Doc”, and “Doctor’s office”. There was nothing unscrupulous in her files or pictures. There were very few texts on her phone. It didn’t seem as if she deleted them, judging by the dates and what they said. It just looked like she didn’t text much. Emails, on the other hand, she had a lot of, but they were mainly between her and her work and the government. Clearly, she was an avid follower of the “get everything in writing” principle. One thing’s for sure, she was smart. It didn’t look like things between her and work were bad, just seemed like a precautionary step.
With no more evidence to be gained, I compiled all of it into an email and addressed it to the police. With the subject of “Missing persons report”, I began writing.
“I am a PI hired by Ms. Sunflower Blush to locate her daughter. She had previously tried to file a report with you, but you had not had reasonable suspicion to search for her. I have gathered evidence suggesting that she may have suffered a psychotic episode and is now without money, her phone, and medication. Please send officers to the address listed below to collect the physical evidence. Speed is imperative as she has already been missing for two days. I will be waiting for your response.”
I then added the digital case file and my signature, which had my name, title, phone number, and the office address and then sent it off. I then grabbed the Wallflower case box; removed the notebook as what's in it was already sent to the police in the email, only more comprehensible; added it to this year’s banker box and yada yada; and brought the case box out to my desk. I checked the email to see if the police responded, and surprisingly enough, they already did.
“Dt. Shimmer, thank you for bringing this to our attention. We will be sending officers to collect your evidence promptly.
Officer Skyranger
Canterlot PD”
I set the box down and quickly shot off a reply.
“I’ll be waiting in the lobby.”
I then grabbed the box and my mask and headed down to the lobby. The lobby’s the same Backrooms design that the rest of the communal areas of the building are, but at least it isn’t claustrophobically narrow. The lobby consists of a wide hallway type space with a wall of mailboxes, a big ass directory with what businesses are found on each floor, the hallways to the ground floor businesses, a small waiting area that smelled questionable, and an unmanned front desk. The front wall is mostly glass with one of those revolving doors and two automatic sliding doors that were added on either side of the revolving door some time in the double zeros.
Many Halloweens ago, someone dressed up a plastic skeleton and placed it at the desk, and no one ever bothered to remove it. Her name is now Sharen and has her own name tag along with a sign that reads, “If you can ring this bell loud enough to raise the dead, Sharen will gladly help you. Otherwise, there’s the directory.” with an arrow pointing to the directory and said bell sitting next to it. Some would say having Sharen there might scare away customers, but so will the wallpaper. The state the Boomers left the world in has left Millennials and Gen Zers in such a state of apathy that only the remaining Boomers and neo-Boomers care about that sort of thing.
I took a seat as I waited for the police to show up. I didn’t have to wait for hours, but given the potential urgency of the situation, I wished they acted a bit faster. An unmarked cruiser pulled up in front of the doors, and out stepped Detective Shining Armor and Spearhead.
“Took you long enough.”, I remarked as the boys came in. “Did you get the email?”
“Yes, we were forwarded your email. You have some more evidence for us?”
I got up from my seat and presented Shining with the box. “Here you go, Piggy-boy.”
Shining took the box but scowled at the nickname. “Seriously, Piggy-boy?”
“I saw your bedroom back when you lived with your parents. The only reason you’re not currently living in a pigsty is because of Cadence. So, yes, you’re going to be called some variation of ‘piggy’ for the rest of your life.”
Spearhead outright laughed at Shining, and Shining let out a low growl.
“You should see his desk junk drawer. He treats it like a trash can.”, Spearhead chuckled.
“Ew”
“Yeah. Oh, and nice skeleton but terrible everything else.”
“Yeah, we’re waiting for Skunky to die so we can get a new owner.”
Spearhead made the face you make when you’re not quite sure how to respond but smiled and nodded anyway. “Have a good day, Ms. Shimmer.”
“Detective, I had to go through the same kinds of tests you did.”, I said in annoyance.
Spearhead nodded non committedly, and the two of them left with the box. I let out a low growl and headed back up to the office. I passed Rarity’s client in the hallway as I walked from the elevator to the office. Rarity was leaning back in her chair in the way she does after dealing with a difficult client. I took the bottle of Scotch and two tumblers from my desk drawer and placed them on Rarity’s desk. Rarity poured us a couple as I took a seat. No words were spoken as we clinked our glasses together and took our first drinks.
“So, how’d he react?”, I asked.
“Shouted about him hiring us to find evidence of his wife cheating, not to give him vague answers.”
“Is he cheating?”
“I don’t think so. He’s just a douche.”
The two of us sat in silence as we sipped our drinks. Once we finished our glasses, I took the glasses to the bathroom and washed them out.
“You have any other cases for me?”, I asked as she put everything back.
“Not today.”
I gave Rarity a thumbs up then used the time to take care of other, non-case related things involved in running a business. It was better than a stakeout but still not fun. Rarity made some calls out to see if other PIs have any cases that they’d be willing to toss our way. It was a common enough practice. It didn’t seem practical at first glance, “Why would you give business to your competitor?” and all that, but it made a lot more sense if you looked at what would happen if you didn’t do that. In simple terms, you’d get unhappy customers. Large firms have the money to put up big advertisements, but they can’t always get to all their cases in a timely manner. If you take too long to get to a case, your client will be unhappy and take their business elsewhere anyway. With that in mind, it’s better to redirect a client to a less busy firm and leave them with a good impression of your business. Plus, the primary business keeps a portion of the deposit without having done much work.
“Okay, I have three new possible redirects. I’ll let you know if we get any of the cases.”, Rarity said.
“Good” I checked the time and noticed it was almost lunch. “I’m going to head out before traffic picks up. Want me to get you anything?”
“Heading to Pinkie’s?”
“Eyup”, I said in an inflection that I’d picked up from AJ over the years.
“Something without much sugar, please, darling. It’s almost frightening how little sugar I can handle nowadays. It’s undoubtedly good for my health, but I start to feel sick after a couple donuts.”
I nodded in understanding as I put my backpack on. “We’re old.” I caught Rarity shaking her head as I left.
Pinkie’s Bakery and Café, family friendly snack house by day and bar and grill and comedy house by night. To say the place was a success was an understatement. During the day, you could find children’s parties in the well soundproofed back room, sweets, pastries, good food, good coffee, and the occasional live band, and at night, you could find alcohol, sweets, pastries, good food, good coffee, and amateur comedians. Pinkie ran it alongside her husband, Cheese Sandwich.
The place was primarily white but had a lot of pink too, obviously. The walls were covered in murals painted by me. They’re the same sort of stuff I painted back as Flanksy. I miss doing street art, but getting caught could mean losing my PI license or even ending up in big girl jail.
“So, did you find Wallflower?”, Pinkie asked in her usual excited tone. She was still sporting her wild curls, bright clothing, and even brighter smile that you could see even behind a mask. When the pandemic started, she first wore a mask with a huge smile but quickly switched to a pink one with white polka dots after people pointed out how creepy her first one was. That’s still the mask she wears to this day. The only thing that’s changed about her is the very noticeable baby belly.
I took another sip of my coffee before answering. They were simple yet loaded words. “No, I didn’t.”
“Aw, what happened?” Pinkie was far more subdued now and actually concerned.
“I don’t know. She just disappeared. Didn’t take anything with her, not even her phone.”
“Wow, that’s sad.”
“Yeah.” I took another sip of my coffee. Those questions from last night still plagued my mind. The situation reminding me of that damn STD demon horror movie Rainbow insisted we all watch back in high school wasn’t helping. Nearly two decades of not thinking about that movie, and now, I remember it. Shut up, brain. “Pinkie, you’re knowledgeable about spirits, pseudo-sciencey stuff. Is it common for spirits to only be visible to their victims?”
“Well, no, spirits aren’t normally visible to anyone, and spirits rarely have victims. You can’t exactly ask a spirit why they’re doing something, but most want nothing to do with the living, and the stories you hear are from them trying to scare people off. They’ve had enough of us when they were alive. Why do you ask?”
“What about people predicting their own deaths? What’s up with that? Is it common to see death itself coming for you?”
“People that predict their own deaths usually die from stuff like heart attacks where they feel a sense of impending doom. That’s just our bodies giving us a new signal we don’t know how to interpret. Imagine feeling hungry for the first time and no one told you what that means. You’d have no idea. Hell, I still sometimes mistake it for nausea. People that avoided being killed because of a prediction have never reported seeing death itself coming for them. The how is still up for debate. There can be many reasons. You could most likely do it by subconsciously picking up on things your conscious mind ignored.”
I hung my head. I had no answers for anything and was just tired.
“Are you okay?”, Pinkie asked, having lost all jovialness in her voice. “You ain’t lookin’ so hot. Do you need to see a doctor?”
“Ugh, maybe. I’ll schedule a visit.” I downed the rest of my coffee and grabbed the doggie bag containing Rarity’s food as I stood up to leave. “I’ll see you later, Pinkie. I’ve got a lot of professional stalking to do.”
“Bye, Sunset.”
What am I doing? This is crazy. Spirits don’t exist. Wallflower was just hallucinating, and my brain was just being a jerk last night. If I don’t think about it, I won’t see it tonight. But what if she wasn’t? What if it comes back? Shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!
I rode down the street that led to my apartment building with a backpack full of groceries. It was a normal night, like any other. I would park, go to my apartment, get the groceries put away, eat dinner, play video games, go to bed, and wake up the next morning. I wasn’t going to see some black shadow figure. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
I still couldn’t shake that feeling. Some part of me, some part that was little more than a monkey swinging from branches wouldn’t drop it. I did say that those in my line of work that ignore such things end up with their organs on a scale, but this was just crazy. There’s no such thing as demons, spirits, ghosts, or ghouls. There certainly is no such thing as murderous shadow people. I just had to get home and wait for the thing to not show up and prove to myself that I was just seeing things.
It was not long before I reached my block. Traffic was congested but still moving fast. I slowed down in preparation to turn into the parking lot, but as I looked over to check if it was clear, it was standing in front of the lobby door. Clear as day, it was there. Before I could even react, I felt my bike make contact, and I was thrown forward. The world was a blur, but I felt myself land on my back, then side, and then my other side before finally rolling to a stop.
I wasn’t knocked out, but it took a moment or two for the world to come back into focus. A man was speaking, but I couldn’t make out what. I tried to get up, but a hand on my chest kept me down.
“Don’t move. An ambulance is on its way.”, the man said. I could finally make out what he was saying, but it took me another couple seconds to process it.
“Fuck,” I wheezed out, “I can’t pay for that.” As much as I wanted to protest, the adrenaline was starting to wear off, and I was quickly becoming very aware of the pain in my sides.
I couldn’t really move my body but could still move my head and survey the area. The other drivers were trying to get around us while the pedestrians either ignored us or just stared. I couldn’t see the car, aside from the grill, so I didn't know the damage. I’m screwed. Even with the financial blow this will cause, that wasn’t what I'm most worried about. I'd seen it. I couldn’t see it from where I laid but could still tell it was there. It stared at me through the car, and it wasn’t some figment of my imagination. It was real, and it was coming for me.
The sounds of sirens were quickly approaching. An ambulance pulled up, and the paramedics ran up to us. “What happened?”, one of the paramedics asked. The second paramedic was talking to the man, and a police car tried its best to us on the two lane road.
“I got launched.”, I said as she feebly attempted to point to my bike.
The paramedic knelt down next to me. “May I take off your helmet?”
“Yes” My voice was still weak as I couldn’t take in much air.
The paramedic carefully took my helmet off and looked carefully at my eyes. “Do you feel any pain?”
“In my sides. I first landed on my back then both my sides before laying to rest where you see me.”
“Okay, we’re going to immobilize your neck and take you to the hospital. You could have a broken back or ribs.”
I let out a weak grunt. The paramedic was right, but my wallet was going to be hurting after this. “Okay”
The paramedic gestured for his college to grab the stuff from the ambo. The cop was talking with the other driver but also shooting judgmental glances towards me. My backpack had some bottles of alcohol in it that definitely broke, and now, I stank. My voice undoubtedly didn’t help. As Capper put it, I now have a druggie’s voice.
The other paramedic returned, and they worked to get me on the gurney. That involved getting my backpack off. They cut the straps, and I mentally added that to the list of items that needed to be replaced. I could now see the thing again. It hadn’t moved or changed. It was just there.
As they started to load me up into the ambo, the officer walked over to us, and I knew exactly what was going to happen. “Can I get a quick statement, before you leave?”
One of the paramedics opened his mouth to protest, something along the lines of “This can wait until she’s been seen by a doctor”, but I was faster.
“Sure, and no, I’ve not had anything to drink tonight. I was just returning from a grocery run, which included alcohol. You’ll find the smashed bottles in my bag. As far as what happened, something distracted me, and I never realized the person in front of me had stopped.”
“Uh-huh”, the officer said disbelievingly. “What exactly distracted you?”
I shrugged, well, as best I could with having just been thrown onto a car. “I couldn’t put a name to it. It all happened so fast. Even if I had noticed he stopped, I doubt I would've had enough time to stop.”
The cop still looked at me like he didn’t believe me, but I was talking without showing any signs of intoxication.
“We need to get to the hospital. Leave us.”, the first paramedic said forcefully, just as much to me as it was to the cop.
The cop walked away, and the paramedics finished loading up. The second paramedic rode in the back with me. I patted down my left pocket, which held my keys, and confirmed they're still there. This exact scenario is why I have a clip connecting my bike key to the rest of them, and I take it off the ring before I start up my bike. Thank whatever smarty pants for zippers on pockets. I then tried to pull out my phone but only got a pile of shattered glass, circuits, and plastic.
“Well, shit. Hey, can I borrow your phone? I need to make a few calls.”
The paramedic unlocked his phone and handed it to me, and the first person I called was AJ.
“Hello, who’s this? Do ya have any idea what time it is?”, AJ asked.
I decided to take this perfect opportunity, covered my mask with my hand à la Bane, and made my voice sound all deep and menacing. “Hello, Applejack, let’s not stand on ceremony here. You will know my name one day, and-”
“Hi, Sunset.”
“Fuck you”, I said in my normal, yet still weak, voice. “How’d you know it was me?”
“Ah know all your voices by now. Now, what’s up with tha unknown number?”
“I was in a wreck, just outside of my apartment, and my phone’s scrap. I’m on my way to the hospital. Could you retrieve my bike and bag?”
“Absolutely. Ya just worry about yourself. Ah’ll rally tha troops. We’ll meet ya later.” AJ hung up on her end, and I handed the phone back to the paramedic.
Once we got to the hospital, the first place I was taken was an x-ray room and the second was somewhere I could be cleaned off and changed into a hospital gown before the rest of the hospital stuff could take place. Being cleaned by an older woman as an adult is probably one of the most humiliating things I’ve gone through, at least this decade. I told the doctors the what and why about my planned doctor's trip for tomorrow, feeling tired and icky and generally bleck without any other symptoms for nearly a week, and they took some blood. Once everything was said and done, I was placed in a room with a sliding glass door and an unobstructed view to the front doors. This allowed me to see my friends bolt in and brace for the Pinkanado.
“Sunset!”, Pinkie shouted as she prepared to bear hug me.
“Ribs! Pinkie! Ribs!”, I managed to shout before Pinkie pounced.
“Oh, sorry.”
“You okay, sugarcube?”, AJ asked. Like the rest of us, she changed very little from high school. The only thing that’s really changed about her was that she’s come to wearing RD’s college letterman jacket when she gets distressed. It was heavy, so it acted as a weighted vest of sorts, and it kinda smells like RD. Despite what some of her relatives said and did, AJ was always in full support of the mask mandate, though doesn’t wear one if she doesn’t need to. A hospital is a place where a mask is still required, so she wore a plain green mask.
“I’m not great, but it could’ve been worse. My backpack absorbed the brunt of the impact. I just have bruised ribs on both sides. How’s my bike?”
“Tha headlights, front casing, windshield, front wheel, n’ mudguard are all goin’ ta need ta be replaced, but it’s otherwise fine. Ya scratched that thing up so many times, Ah can’t tell which are new n’ which are old. Ah’m sure Rainbow has some spare parts ya can use.”, AJ explained.
“No, that’s okay. I don’t want to bother her.”
“Both Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy are already on flights back here, darling. I will also be driving you around until you’re well enough to ride again. That will mean that we’ll both be working the same cases for a while, but we’ll make it work.”, Rarity said. Her mask was cyan with her symbol on it.
“You’re not even going to try to talk me out of going straight back to work?”, I asked confusedly.
“Sunset, if I didn’t know better, I’d say your father was a mule. We’ve accepted that fact and are done fighting you.”, Twilight said. Her mask was plain black, just like mine. It might actually be one of mine.
“My dad could’ve been a mule. My mom would’ve fucked anything if it paid her.”, I joked.
“Did you tell the doctors about your concerns?”, Pinkie asked.
“Yeah, they took some blood and are going to run some tests.”
“What concerns?”, the other three asked.
“I’ve just been feeling tired and overall crappy for the last few days.”
“What about you seeing that shadow person yesterday?”, Twilight asked, peeking Rarity’s attention.
“I haven’t seen it tonight. Hff, I guess my brain is just an asshole.”
“You’re lying.”, Twilight said with a scowl.
“Look, Twi, I’m not sure what’s going on. Rarity, I want to reopen the Wallflower case.”
Rarity looked up like she does when she’s doing mental calculations then looked at me with a serious face. “Are you saying that Wallflower was possibly poisoned, and you picked it up too when you went to her apartment?”
“Um, no, I just want to talk to Roseluck. She’s one of Wallflower's neighbors and was also in her apartment.”
“Oh, my bad.”, Rarity said with an apologetic smile. “I’m jumping again.”
“Back to other matters, give me a list of all you lost in the crash, and I’ll get it replaced.”, Twilight said.
“Twi, you don’t have to do that.”, I tried to protest.
“Nope, I’m not hearing it. You need a new phone first off, and you now have medical bills. I’m your girlfriend. Let me help you.”
I glared at Twilight before giving her a mischievous smile. “You’ve been spending too much time around me, Sparkles.”
Twilight gave me her own mischievous smile, but before she could say anything, a nurse interrupted. “I’m sorry girls, but visiting hours are over. You can take her home tomorrow.”
The five of the girls said their goodbyes then I was left alone in my darkened room. The lights were kept on in the lobby, but I could still see the thing outside, just past the awning. It stared at me, and I glared back at it. I don’t know what you are, but I know why you’re here. I won't let you take me too. I won’t let you take me away from my family.