The twisting groans of the rickety floor boards echoed with every hoof step. A pungent waft of stale air hung thick and impenetrable in the musty two-story farmhouse, while the chill-winds raked over wooden steps and scraped by the gravel road leaving serpentine drifts of snow in the darkness. Inside the aged estate wallpaper peeled where it met the warped wooden molding that ran along the corners of the room like a seam. Black water stains dripped down forming oily streaks across the cracked walls and sagging ceiling. There were no lights and no signs of life in the empty husk of a farmhouse. Despite the presence of candelabras, candlesticks were nowhere to be found while empty lantern hooks jutted out from bare walls. All that remained were dust motes shining in the pale glow cast by two dim lanterns. It was a meagre defence against the encroaching darkness.
A quiet tone harshly whispered in the gloom, “Right, look this is hopeless. There's nothing in here. Just another false alarm, ponies get that way around Nightmare Ni-”
“Shuush. Somepony reported a scream and it's our job to ensure there's no harm done.” silence pervaded the room once again before the quiet groan of the bellying roof met the dull monotonous patters of fireflies against glass lantern walls. “Constable, what do you notice about the floors?” a mare's harsh whisper grated through the darkness.
The edge of the light reflected with a glimmer off the path that flashed a gold leaf and matching tiara. The light blue maned earth stallion wore the dull blue uniform of a local constable and yet his young age said he couldn't have been part of the constabulary for long. His ears began to twitch before they folded back against his skull. However, his bright green eyes rolled around as if never properly set to any one item or spot.
The older Unicorn mare shook her head as the faint amber glow of her horn held the lantern up and beside her face. It showed a severe looking frown pinned to taupe muzzle that seemed nearly disembodied amidst the dancing sparks of dust caught in the pallid yellow light of the fireflies “Take your time to think, what do you see, Outreach?” her tone was professional, quiet, and calming in how detached despite it being slightly rusty.
Constable Outreach gulped audibly and took in the room at a glance. “Furniture is covered by white cloth, dust settled over them suggests they've been unused for quite some time. Several are missing in the corner though: two lamp stands and a large chair. It, hmm-it suggests that the home owners may be away for the winter but the boards on the windows mean it could be abandoned.” The icy breeze filtered through the cracks in one shattered window with a mournful dirge that stirred the dust back to life.
“Correct constable. Now look at the floor.” The stallion's accompaniment lowered the lantern in front of her to illuminate the cracked floorboards. Beckoning with a hoof, the taupe and grey maned mare pointed at the weaving pathway between the furniture.
“Yes, Miss Maple-”
“Inspector Maple.” she corrected with a snort of derision.
“Y-yes, Inspector Maple. Ma'am.” his voice shook, his body quaked from apprehension as there was a far louder groan upstairs that sounded like the roof could collapse from the faintest breeze. The inspector's cleared throat once more drew his gaze down.
The constable began poking and pawing at the wooden floorboards along the indicated section of floor with the snorting sound of a hog looking for mushrooms. The answer came after a few moments of searching, “No hoof prints, but it's been swept out and there's a scratch here... I can't tell from what.”
“Good, very good. They lead this way.” The inspector's chilly demeanour matched the wind which whistled through the empty gaps leaving the earth pony to glance back.
Barely catching the tail end of the lantern light he hop-skipped forward so as to not be left alone. Without pause, constable Outreach trotted through the front living room and to the hall where it grew even darker. A single door yawned opened into a blackened abyss showing the gaping maw of descending stairs. “It leads this way.” Inspector Maple merely gestured with the swinging lamp.
Squinting hard, constable Outreach nodded his head to the right at the end of the hall. There lay the faint outlines of wooden spindles framing a swirling staircase upwards that seemed ghostly and insubstantial in the gloom, “Another stairway up too.”
“Yes but this is where the scratch leads.” She insisted. “Come on.” then left no time to argue as the pair cautiously made their way down the croaking steps.
Holding the lantern in a hoof constable Outreach focused on his surroundings rather than staring at the bobbing tail and flank of the mare ahead of him. Keeping his eyes averted, Outreach mumbled, “Ceilings are pretty high up for a cellar.” Mildew formed on the walls and the old warped wood groaned in distress at every ounce of pressure. “Inspector!” he seethed, voice hoarse and high-pitched while emerald eyes opened wide.
“Hmm?” Maple stopped and turned back. It was hard to turn around in the close confines of the stairwell so she awkwardly sat and craned her neck back to look at the spot he indicated.
A long scrape of white trailed unevenly down the cold unfeeling stone walls. The scars bore traces of resistance, embedded in the groove were splinters and flecks of iridescent blue that caught the light of the lanterns. Droplets of blood stained the edge of the wooden steps. Inspector Maple squinted at the edges carefully; the very edge of the wood had been splintered. Something heavy had been forcefully dragged downstairs.
The steps rebelled again as the Inspector hushed the stallion. The motion drew a puzzled glance from the stallion but was quickly dismissed. Dabbing her hoof down she held it up to the light. At the very edge of the dull coloured nail the faintest smudge of blood was visible. Inspector Maple's tongue flicked out, tasting the blood, then swiftly spat it out, “Pony, recent. Yeeack.”
Outreach's stomach churned at the sight of the unnatural act, but the Inspector knew better than almost anypony how to qualify evidence. “Quiet and quick, lets see what's downstairs, be on your guard.” she replied seeing his disgusted expression that hid his true anxiety.
Maple shook her head and resumed her descent to the bottom of the stairs, “stop fidgeting, it's distracting.”
“Inspector?” he asked quizzically.
Turning around, the stallion hadn't moved. Something twitched in her mind but it was filed away into the farthest conscious reaches. Descending into the dreary basement there was no pretence of being a nicely fixed up rural farmhouse.
The ponies stood in a dull cellar under the house. Grey stone closed in around them and rusty iron rivets and girders held old wooden support spars in place like columns would in a royal palace. It was a long room with thick wooden trusses and corners cluttered with empty wooden crates. At the far side of the lantern's paltry glow, was a small workbench. Tools hung up above it, with an awl and various woodworking instruments were commonly seen scattered around as if tossed about at random. One of the missing furniture covers from upstairs caught the eye almost immediately. Dust stained grey or not, it lay on the work bench at the very back of the cellar near a bend for a furnace. Something had been bundled up within it. A rank copper odour clung to the rafters and small specks of hay that rotted in sodden clumps in the soggy corners out of sight.
Maple wordlessly gestured the constable forward while making another motion; tapping her eyes, her nose, then swiftly pointing at the corners of the room it was telling him to pay attention. An affirmative bob of his head said the stallion would do just that, and moments later they slowly approached the work station.
An offensive smell of waste soured the air as they got closer to the wrapped sheet, something moved within. Caution thrown to the wind the constable darted ahead, “Vanhoover Constabulary. Be still a moment.” the clatter of hooves across the uneven stone was just as clear as the inspector followed in his wake. The wrapped up object went stiff as a board, then began to thrash. It did the figure little good. Broad leather belts encircled clasped in sturdy iron buckles spanned the white sheet in three different places.
Outreach reached the flailing bundle first. Placing his lantern aside he pressed both forehooves down to steady the straps as he used his teeth to pull the belt free. His attempt swiftly bogged down as each belt had been crossed over itself then knotted in a very peculiar fashion. “Maple, ma'am, could you give me a hoof... looks like some pony's been trussed up and hurt.” No help was quickly forthcoming.
“C-constable, the wall. The bucking wall!” She called out, voice crackled with fear and distress.
Still tugging at the first belt, Outreach finally worked the first belt loose and unbuckled it. Pulling the shroud down he uncovered the exposed rump of a mare. Her ankles had been roughly bound in leather which had rubbed her fur away and left ligature marks on her blue coat. Her legs had been further lashed to her stomach showing a fleur-de-lis shaped cutie mark.
The constable halted for just a second; that cutie mark was the same one he'd seen printed on the dispatch of a missing pony form a week ago for a Unicorn from Vanhoover. Finally the panic-stricken voice of the inspector drew his gaze. Just to her right was some horrid runic script written in the dark brown stain:
Befæsten fífirúnwitan ic ánþing gebannum
fífincundnessa ond bréosthord
gebrogdene fífigéosceaftas bótum ætstalas
hwonne áne ácordaþ, sy ácumendlicnessa
án
“That's not Griffonic, or Saddle Arabian....” Maple said as a chill snaked down her spine. “Constable as quick as you can-” she turned to face the terrified stallion standing over the restrained mare.
A great shadow loomed up behind him; twice as tall as a pony and garbed in an assortment of ragged furs and sweeping curtains of metal rings. The beast stood on its hind legs, face hidden behind a great bell-like iron helm with slit like eyes which, even in the lantern light, was lustreless. The rasp of metal rings and flap of cloth was barely a warning as it lifted a horrid hewing axe high over its head.
It swung the axe down in a horrid crescent, the thick metal biting flat across the constable's back with an anguished howl. Outreach's hind quarters slumped flat while his forelegs scratched and scraped in a moment of writhing agony. He loosed a rattled breath before his eyes rolled up into the back of his head.
Maple backed off swiftly; the horrid giant had stalked up like a ghost and caught them entirely by surprise. The squeak and muffled squeal of the trussed up Unicorn mare was being drowned out by the rapid thump of the Inspector's terrified heart. Panic was swiftly setting in as she backed up into the tiny corner of the basement. Maple looked left and right in desperation for something she could defend herself with. Sweat beaded on her nose tip as she caught a swift glimpse of a sharpened awl which she seized onto with a flash of amber sparks. Wavering to the left and right on uncertain hooves she menaced the giant with the solid steel punch though it looked like a sewing needle in comparison.
The horrid giant stepped on Outreach's bloodied back and wrenched the axe free. Every muffled hoofstep made the metal swish and scrape. She swung the awl hard, sending it for the monster's face. A great twisted mane hung from its thick jaw as it loomed up in front of her. Sweeping his backhand out, it raked across the metal hand sending the awl spiralling across the room with a metallic clatter.
Maple feinted then darted right, towards the entrance as she hoped the scaffolding would hold up the monster just long enough. The swing of his hand axe swept downward, spattering the wall with flecks of blood. She kidded and reared back, arresting her progress but avoiding the bone splitting sweep. Turning on a bit she tried to leap back and gallop back from the beast, anywhere really. A rough kick flung her against the wall as her head hit the stone with an audible crack.
Dazed, confused, Maple's senses swam as she groggily gazed up at the enormous figure that loomed over her. Its rancid breath washed over her, the smell of old meat which made her blanch and try to rise with a hoof over the mare's muzzle. A bolt of pain forced her down on her side as she screamed; his heavy hoof had stamped down on her leg leaving it unnaturally twisted. A simpering moan passed her lips as she was roughly grasped by the neck and her leg stepped on so she couldn't move at all.
Choking and gasping the Unicorn was nudged in the side and rolled over. “Lets see.” the thick grizzly voice growled like a bear while Maple choked and gasped for air. Her cheek pressed against the cold stone floor, eyes twitching and head throbbing at the treatment as husks of straw stuck to her fur and the tap of fireflies against the lantern glass seemed to absently grasp at her attention. A petrifying brush of blood soaked metal grazed the fur of her flank, then against the grain as she quivered under the predatory inspection. In the darkness of the ghoulish basement, her soft fur bristled from the razor edge, revealing the diamond dust like pattern of a white curled leaf.
She barely heard let alone comprehended when the figure spoke again. “Gods be praised. I am in fortune's favour, as are you.” Maple groggily looked up at the horrid apparition. It lifted its sharpened metal axe high, shining in the dull lantern light. Terrified cried echoed in the empty room. Slowly, almost lazily, it brought the terrible weapon down. The haft slammed down hard between her ears, consuming the Unicorn in the empty embrace of unconscious darkness.