//------------------------------// // IT'S ME // Story: Catatonic // by FaelaArts //------------------------------// This time, when Luna entered the killer’s dreams, he was doing an action that, while horrifying, was comparably tame to his previous dream. Deciding to watch and wait for a moment, she shuddered as she felt a presence enter the dream. Looking around the dreamscape, she soon spotted the intruder. It was a black and white striped puppet with a tear stained mask. Both compared the other, before turning their attention to the purple pony currently in the dream. Currently, he was hiding in some bushes, watching kids playing in the park. Watching this, Luna noticed that one of them seemed to be singled out from the others. However, before she could discern any features, the second force beside her swept through the dream. A resounding screech shook the dreamscape, and the puppet grew to encompass the entire dream. Reaching out with its three fingered hands, it somehow wrapped them around the neck of the purple pony, winding them tighter and tighter. Despite his choking, the stallion began to laugh, growing bigger as if to match the puppet’s challenge. Hooves reached for the puppet’s neck, and the two became locked in a struggle to see whom would strangle whom first. Blinking, Luna realised where she was once again, and worked her power swiftly, separating the two forces by an invisible wall. The puppet screamed in rage, and she winced, covering her ears. The stallion merely laughed. And laughed. And laughed. Jolting awake, the stallion looked around the cell rapidly, and visibly relaxed. Beyond one sleeping guard, he was alone. Glancing at the guard, he recognised it as the one whom had asked to see his eyes. Looking around the cell, it was pretty barren beyond a bed and a toilet. Still, it beat the location he had been fearing. His attention was drawn to a door outside of the holding cell as it opened. “Aaand he’s asleep again. You’d think there was a music box in here with how often he’s fallen asleep on the job.” Entering the room, Country Singer walked over to the table Music Box was sleeping at, and placed down two cups of expresso. Looking towards the cell, he had to do a double take. Keeping silent, Singer noticed the expression on the Stallion’s face. It was a face still suck in that restaurant, still stuck in that nightmare. Slowly taking a seat, he picked up his drink, taking a small sip. Hopefully if he kept quiet for long enough, Mike would calm down. Of course, that was thrown out the window the moment Music Box woke up. “That miserable pile of-” Standing up, Music Box tossed his cup off the table, and screamed loudly as he slammed a hoof down on it. Singer glanced toward Mike, who was, naturally, petrified. Turning, Music Box glared at Singer, bearing down on him menacingly. “You know how hard it is to even get into that murderer’s dreams!? And she-Oooooh SHE has to come in there and separate us like CHILDREN! I ought to cling to her neck and slit it, watching the blood fly over this entire miserable planet of fools!” Gasping for breath, Music stood like that for a few moments, before taking a seat. Putting a hoof in front of his face, he sighed. “Well, that was uh…unexpected. You’re not normally that easy to uh, heh.” Giving a small nervous laugh, Singer rubbed the back of his neck. After receiving another scathing glare from Music, however, he decided not to push his luck. Glancing toward the cell once more, he wondered if Mike would ever calm down now. ‘Hold the microphone, he actually looks calmer.’ Looking toward the stallion in the cell, Singer couldn’t believe his eyes. Mike had stopped shaking, and seemed to be fighting his urge to ask question. Glancing to Music, Singer wondered just what had caused it. “…Sorry for my outburst.” Sighing, Music rubbed his face, and slumped. “Heey, don’t worry about it. I’d probably be angry too if I had to tiptoe around ponies to try and find that killer.” Placing a hoof on his friend’s shoulder, Singer heard the door open, and grimaced. “Speaking of devils and whatnot. Twilight here wants to talk to us.” Standing up, both Singer and Music faced Twilight. “You know something about this killer, don’t you?” Narrowing her eyes, Twilight went straight to the source of her suspicions. The two shared a glance, and Music nodded. “Tell me, Miss Twilight, do you believe in either reincarnation or different universes?” Stepping back as Music Box spoke, Singer crouched down near the bars of the holding cell, and gave a small wave. Mike’s attention shifted to him, and Singer watched a shudder of fear pass through the stallion. Sighing mentally once more, he bit his lip. “No, not really.” It was the truth, Twilight admitted. Sure, she wasn’t exactly dismissing the idea entirely, there was not enough proof for that. But that didn’t mean she could accept it without any either. “Then we have no reason to discuss anything I’m afraid. The answers you seek rely on suspension of that disbelief.” Turning, Music glanced toward Singer, and narrowed his eyes. Standing up quickly, Singer walked over, trying to hide behind a sheepish smile. “Alright then, for the sake of explanation, I will forsake my own thoughts on the matter. If you can provide proof you are not just lying, that is.” Narrowing her eyes, Twilight waited. Sighing, Music rubbed his forehead. “You ask us to provide proof for questions you want the answer to. You do realise there is no incentive for me to do so, correct?” Pausing, Music looked down at Twilight, who scrunched up her face. Opening her mouth, she raised a hoof as she began to object. “So you admit you have no proof! You could be accomplices, trying to clear the true culprit’s name!” It all made sense now, these ponies had been hiding the killer. That was how he had been able to evade everypony. Sighing once more, Music glanced toward Singer. “You read too much into my words. I did not say I did not have proof. Singer, can you get him talking?” Turning around entirely to see their prisoner, Music noted the flinch that passed through his body. “I don’t think so…I mean I kinda…We kinda…” Looking down, Singer rubbed his front hooves together, and bit his lip. Glancing between them, Mike turned around, facing his back to their faces. “What,” he spoke, “tried to, oh I dunno, kill me?” Folding his arms, Mike glared at the wall. Giving a nervous laugh, Singer rubbed the back of his neck. “You know that didn’t happen in this world. That wasn’t entirely my fault. I thought you were…you know.” Gulping, Singer took a step back as Mike turned around to face them, giving him a scathing glare. “That is no excuse. Neither is what happened to you! How many, how many before me?” Standing up, Mike began to shake violently with a different emotion. Gulping, Singer winced, and turned away. “What happened then doesn’t matter, that was a different scenario.” Stepping between them, Music Box looked Mike directly in the eyes. Scoffing, Mike returned to his bed, and once more faced the wall. “It’s not their fault you came back looking for answers, Mike.” Eyes narrowing, Music Box watched Mike’s shoulders stiffen, and his head slowly turn. “What?” Narrowing his eyes, Mike stood up once more. “It’s not their fault the building burned down,” spoke Music a second time. Singer took a step back, frowning. “Burned down, what are you talking about?” Glancing between the two, Singer was struck by how little of Mike’s story he knew. Music Box turned, as if about to explain, but was interrupted by Mike. “You…You, you are, aren’t you.” Walking forward, Mike gripped the bars, leaning towards Music Box. “You’re that freaking puppet! Were you the cause of those burnt animatronics too?” Speaking through his teeth, Mike’s voice was barely audible. “I did try to warn you about the fire,” replied Music Box, seemingly not reacting. Reaching through the bars, Mike grabbed Music Box’s scruff. “You didn’t try to warn me. You tried to let him bloody kill me!” Breathing through his teeth, Mike desperately fought his urge to attack the guard. “Look, it was the only means I had of warning you by that point. All my energy was spent on keeping his spirit locked in that suit.” Carefully prying the hoof off, Music Box remained calm despite the heated tension. “You mean you were the cause of that thing being alive!? Are you insane? What possible reason could you have to keep him alive!” It was hard to quell his suspension of disbelief. Why in any possible world, could any possible reason exist to keep him alive? Whatever it was, Mike knew he wasn’t going to like it. “Revenge, mostly. That, and if he had of passed on, his spirit would have ended up here sooner. Even more lives would have been lost. Do you not care about that?” For an unknown reason, Music Box chose that moment to take a step back. “Care about-Care about that? What I care about is the fact you, and those four put me through two weeks of living hell just for the sake of revenge! What I care about is the fact you don’t even care about whom you trod on just for the sake of-“ Stopping himself, Mike scowled, and turned, stomping back to the bed. “What’s the point of talking to you? You’re just a child underneath, just like they are. You might act serious, but you’re just a brat underneath that armor.” Fluffing his pillow, Mike prepared to try and get an angry nap off. It was, quite frankly, a much better use of his time. “Oh really? Because underneath your skin, you’re just as psychotic as the purple guy.” Narrowing his eyes, Music Box was done talking to somepony like Mike. Stiffening, Mike turned, and gave a cry of rage, diving to try and do some damage on Music Box. However, Music Box was one step out of range of his hoof. “I’m not like him, you are! You terrible, miserable, horrible little puppet.” Slumping, Mike slouched onto the bars, and began to sob. “Monster, you’re a monster,” he sobbed. Turning away from Mike, Music Box headed for the door. “If being a monster means he can no longer harm others, I will gladly become one.” Opening the door, Music Box left the room. Glancing to the door, Singer flinched as it slammed shut. “Oh jeez,” commented Singer, biting his lip and glancing between the two. Blinking, he remembered Twilight was there, and turned his attention to her. “Well,” was all she said in response, eyes wide open and mouth slightly ajar.