CARLSMARE AVENUE, FILLYDELPHIA
EARLY EVENING, THREE WEEKS LATER
The dark shape of Mare-Do-Well thundered down from the sky, mechanical wings folding away as she dive-bombed into a masked, scrawny-looking mare who was crouched over a corpse laying in the gutter of the empty street, a knife glittering in her muzzle. The mare fell back, dazed and incapacitated, as the hero stepped forward to examine the cadaver.
"What in the name of Celestia.." Mare-Do-Well muttered to herself breathlessly, inspecting the body. It was a mess. At first sight, she noticed the scarring along the stallion's abdomen rather than the knife wound on the throat. An intricate portion of classical music notation had been carved with prescision into the skin, contrasting with the rough slice that had slit open the stallion's throat. Pulling out a miniature camera module and fitting it onto her hoof-cannon's mounting, she took detailed evidence photographs of the corpse for study later. After closing the eyes over with a hoof, she turned to confront the killer.
Nothing. The killer had vanished, leaving not a trace. Mare-Do-Well sighed.
"And this is why I should tie 'em up.." She mumbled, using the hoof-mounted cannon to fire a distress flare straight up into the dim sky before unfolding her wings and taking flight once more, as police sirens started up in the distance.
THE LAIR
ONE HOUR LATER
Plugging the camera into the Lair's computer, Mare-Do-Well uploaded the images for processing. She began to specify courses of action for the evidence.
"Computer, cross-reference the notation carved into the body with all known music records in Equestria, I want the origin of the composition and any connections it might reveal. Also, check for any other crimes recently with the same examples of corpse mutilation." After a few minutes of quiet contemplation in the high-backed leather seat, the results were ready. 'The music notation on the victim was an excerpt from a piece identified as Piano Composition IV in D Minor, from the collected works of the musician, Octavia. Octavia has been missing for a year and two months as of today, cause unknown. There have been six murders with the same body mutilations over the past month, all in the boundaries of the Fillydelphia region' The computer monitor displayed, giving a quiet buzz.
"It sounds like Octavia has something to do with all this.. And I'm getting to the bottom of this mess. Computer, I want a full printed report on Octavia. Home address, personal biographical details, psychological history." The computer gave a few short bleeps before beginning its difficult task.
Scootaloo pulled the hat off and slid the facemask back over her head, letting her mane flow freely as she sat in the living quaters. She had moved her belongings into the Lair, telling Applejack that the CMC clubhouse would no longer be needed as she had purchased a townhouse in Manehattan. She sat down on the leather sofa, leaning over to the end table and activating the coffee machine. The sight of a gruesome murder, although anticipated, had still shocked and disgusted her. The machine poured out a cup of hot coffee. Taking a sip, Scootaloo sighed shakily. She sat back and stared at the ceiling, then down to the room again. Her eyes fell on a framed photograph. It showed her and Rainbow Dash, with the rainbow-maned mare's hoof held around the filly's shoulders. Both were smiling joyously. Scootaloo felt her eyes prickle with tears as she reminisced on days gone by. She had once been so innocent, and a child at heart. True, she was still full of youthful vigour, but.. The life she led was taking its toll. Her tear-filled eyes wandered to the blue pegasus. Rainbow Dash had always inspired her, from her filly years up to her current life as a young mare.
"Sometimes I just do it for you, Rainbow Dash. I may be a hero to many, but.. You're my hero." She spoke softly, blinking away the tears and taking another drink of the hot coffee to keep herself going. After collecting the evidence on Octavia and reading over it at length, Scootaloo filed it in a cabinet within one of the storage rooms before leaving the Lair again through the waterfall, her suit now closed over and her hat back on.
The night air was cold and clear against her body as she soared over Ponyville, diving down and swooping to a halt to land right outside a quaint house on Mane Street. The plaque above the door read, 'Octavia, Composer and Musician' in a flowing script. Mare-Do-Well lifted her hoof to the door. A small device extended from her hoof cannon, sliding into the door's lock and picking it with ruthless efficiency. The door clicked open, and she slipped inside. The house was a mess. Belongings littered the floor, mainly music sheets. Leaning down, the hero inspected the closest sheet. It was speckled with dry tears. She replaced the sheet after studying it and moved through to the next room. The walls were covered in musical compositions, scratched into the wallpaper violently. Along with these, words were cut into spaces around the notations. Words like 'VIRTUOSO', 'VISIONARY' and 'SUPERIOR'. Scanning her eyes around the destroyed living room, the sight of a huge poster crumpled in the corner caught her eye. The poster read, 'Regular shows: Classical concerts by the lovely Octavia'. The title of the hosting venue was 'The Paradise Estate, Manehattan'. Mare-Do-Well picked up the cumpled poster and folded it away into a carrying pouch on her utility belt, standing up and looking around before starting toward the door.
A quiet crackle of gunfire in the distance was followed by an almighty splintering boom as the exterior wall opposite Mare-Do-Well was blown open, a hole being violently punched through the wooden surface and through the wallpaper. She dropped to the floor on hearing the initial gunshot, the bullet missing her by mere millimetres on its rapid course.
"Merciful Celestia.." She whispered, rolling across the messy floor and ducking out of the room. The ammunition had managed to shatter not only through the exterior wall, but also blast through the inner wall of the living room, the bullet finally lodging into the interior wall of the house's hallway near the front door. "A bullet that made it through two walls at long range must have come from a gun with an incredible amount of power.." She muttered. "Obviously, someone really wants me dead." After a few minutes of silent waiting with no reprise from the assassin, Mare-Do-Well pulled the bullet from the wall with a hoof. The large, heavy piece of metal bore the tiny inscription, 'THE PROFESSIONAL' in a bold imprinted font. Slotting a laser emitter into the hole in the wall with careful precision, the red beam showed the linear trajectory of the bullet. Dashing out of the door and kicking off into the air, she followed the red path of the assassin's shot, cutting through the dark from the shattered exterior wall all the way up toward the roof of the Ponyville town hall. Somehow, the shooter had managed to fire from the hall's roof, then escape extremely quickly, leaving only the ammunition casing on the roof. Mare-Do-Well picked up the case, tucking that away as well before taking off into the sky and heading back to the Lair as the blazing sun rose up on the horizon.
THE TURNTABLE CLUB, MANEHATTAN
SUNRISE
Vinyl Scratch sat backstage in her cramped office, reclining on an old chair in the dim room. Spare equipment was stacked about the room, and dust was beginning to collect on some of the older technology. Vinyl was often known to be a veritable powerhouse of energy duing her raves at the club, keeping crowds of hundreds going with ease. However, at present, the electric-blue maned DJ was uncharacteristically quiet. She stared silently into a photograph of Octavia, her face unbearably sad. A tear rolled down her cheek.
"I miss you so much.." She whispered, pressing a hoof to the photograph. "Why did you leave? Where did you go?" She continued to sob, pulling the photograph close to her heart.
The door to the office opened slowly. A lone figure entered, her mane unkempt, her purple eyes rimmed with dark signs of stress and sleeplessness. She straightened her shabby bowtie and scratched at her mane. Vinyl's eyes widened and she stood, stepping forward.
"'Tavia? Is that you?" She spoke out, her voice cracking a little after her crying.
"It's Octavia.. My name is Octavia. They always say it wrong.." The broken-looking mare replied, her voice empty and a little agitated.
"I've missed you so much!" Vinyl said, pulling Octavia into an embrace and kissing her. Octavia did not react for a moment. Then her eyes widened sharply, twitching. She pushed Vinyl off, snarling. Vinyl simply stared at her love, uncomprehending. "Octavia, why.."
"Where were you?!" Octavia roared. Vinyl cringed. "Where were you when I made that mistake at the last concert? Where were you when I.. I.. "
"What happened to you?" Vinyl asked the distraught musician.
"My last concert.. I made one mistake. ONE MISTAKE!" Octavia screamed, picking up a keyboard and tossing it across the room. It shattered as it hit the wall. "I played my best, and I made one mistake.." She grabbed Vinyl close, staring at her with pained, maddened eyes. "They were booing me. Jeering. Laughing! And then I was on my way home.. The night had been the worst failure of my career.." Vinyl could only watch as her broken beloved pulled away, breathing hard. "I was mugged. Attacked by a gang of low-life scum. They demanded my money, my hard-earned money.. They took me to the floor and beat me over and over, I.." Her voice became low and feral, her words septic. "They took it all. Money, posessions, everything. I lay broken on the floor of an alley, shattered bones and shattered mind.." Her voice softened. "And the only thing I could think of.. Was my music. A piano's melody. Soft strings singing to me.." A tear ran down her grey face. Her eyes drew even wider. "And now.. I'll prove my worth. I'll make sure that every single pile of filth who mocked me at that concert dies. Every member of that gang will be split apart like I was. I'll be remembered as an artist throughout the ages. A visionary." Vinyl Scratch began to weep openly as Octavia stepped toward her. The musician grabbed her former lover by the hoof and pulled her roughly toward the door, and out of the empty club, into the waiting arms of a group of her own mercenaries. The masked ponies bundled Vinyl into a van as Octavia looked on. "One step more toward the crescendo.." She whispered coldly, making her way around to the driver's side and entering before pulling the van out of the street and driving off down the labyrinthine avenues as the sun continued upwards overhead.