• Published 28th Apr 2013
  • 856 Views, 34 Comments

Dr. Star Wars Chainsaw Massacre: the Next Generation is Magic - GhostWriter17

What happens when Star Wars, Star Trek, Dr. Who, and Texas Chainsaw mix with ponies? EVERYTHING.

  • ...

Murders and Murders and Murders and Murders and Murders and Murders and Murders and Murders and Spike

Dr. Star Wars Chainsaw Massacre: the Next Generation is Magic

Chapter 4: Murders and Murders and Just Read The Top Of The Screen... Please.

A My Little Pwn-E Fanfiction By GhostWriter17

* * * *

The Doctor stood in front of the Mayor of Ponyville's house, observing his surroundings. Apparently this murder has affected the whole town. Not a pony is in sight. None to gawk at us or worship us like gods. It's just... Silent. I friggen love it. But the Doctor didn't like the circumstances in Ponyville simply because of the fact that there would be less distractions, but rather because he didn't have to meet any crazy ponies like Twilidum and Appledee. Earlier, Twilight had eventually calmed down, with Applejack's help, of course, and the two agreed to let Elf and the Doctor help in their investigation of the murder of Spike the dragon. Obviously, Twilight wouldn't be much help, as her mental state was obviously weakened, and all Applejack could do was make sure her friend didn't go apeshit on everyone and start a massacre. Thank the Time Lords for that.

The crime scene was pretty standard stuff. The Mayor had not set foot near her house after the murder. She left Spike's body there, and has since lived with some family made of cake or something. The crime scene was shielded, with the help of several ponies and some sort of sun and moon goddesses, to preserve the body. However, the Doctor had one glaring question: If it has been a whole two weeks since the murder, and the ponies not only have an entire army of soldiers but also two immortal goddesses, then why the hell have they not done anything? Suddenly, a voice, cold as steel, feminine in nature, spoke to the Doctor. Oh, but that's the question, isn't it, Doctor? Why do these ponies, these insolent fools, defy all logic? It's because they're holding some sort of sacred vigil. A ritual where, when a dragon passes, all inhabitants in Equestria must drop everything and wait for two weeks until their lives resume. It's stupid and plot convenient, but it works to our advantage. Yes. Yes it does, Doctor.

Okay, the Doctor thought, who is this bitch and why is she spouting exposition?

The cold, steely voice simply cackled in the Doctor's mind. Oh, Doctor, there is no need to worry about who we are. We will present ourselves to you when the time is right. For we have a plan. A very special plan. But we will meet soon enough. First, however, I'd like to play a little game with you.

A game? The Doctor thought to Bitch The Voice. What kind of game are we talking about? I don't especially like playing games. Especially with murderous cowards who don't like to show their face!

Bitch The Voice simply laughed again. Oh, I think we'll get along just fine, Doctor. Yes. Yes, indeed. Anyway, about this game we have planned. We-

Wait, hold on a second. The Doctor interrupted Bitch The Voice. This is a bit of a dumb question, but, could you explain who the buck "we" are?

Bitch The Voice seemed dumbfounded. What? Oh, shit. Well... Uhm... We are, uh... You see, I can't tell you.

The Doctor sighed. Lemme guess: You can't tell me because it's plot important?

Bitch The Voice smiled. Or, she would if she was more than a voice. Because, you know, voices don't exactly have faces. Yes, that is exactly the reason why! And we will not reveal who we are until the plot demands it! MMMMWWWWAAHAHHAHAHAhAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!! How's that for a game changer, Doctor? Are you scared? Gonna get your bowtie in a bundle? Wait, do you even have a bowtie?

Nope. I don't. Bowties are overrated, anyway. But, about this game? I'd like to speed this up, cause I have a murder to solve and I'd really like to get home soon.

Oh, right, the game! I almost forgot in all of my evilness. Anyway, I dare you to solve this riddle. Now this riddle is very tricky. If you can solve this riddle, coupled with the clues we may or may not have left at the crime scene, you shall be one step closer to finding who we are and what we want. Or not. MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! I am truly evil now!!

Right. Well then, what is this riddle you speak of?

Bitch The Voice cleared her throat. If she had a throat. That was because she was merely a very bitchy voice. And we all know that bitches with only voices, also known as having all bark and quite literally no bite, cannot possibly have real, tangible throats. Okay, here is my riddle. Pay attention: I am attentive. I see all, but do not speak. I see, but hardly react. My problem lies not in anything but asking one question: Who Are You? Bitch The Voice remained silent for a few moments, before speaking once again. And there you have it! I hope it's challenging enough for you! I wish you luck in all of your failings, Doctor! Just remember one thing: We will be watching. Bitch The Voice cackled again and left the Doctor's mind. Presumably. The Doctor began to ponder what this riddle could mean, but was called by El- Spock, to come to investigate the crime scene. The riddle would have to come later.

The Mayor's house was a circular building with a brown porch along the entire outside. A large door, leading to the inside of the building, was spattered with flecks of green blood. Leaning against the door was a mass of purple and green. The Mayor herself was turned away from the entrance, sitting on the grass. Spock sat beside her, questioning her. The Doctor walked toward them both. Spock nodded and thanked the Mayor, and turned to face him. He led the Doctor away from the Mayor and spoke to him. Like always, Spock spoke with an immense knowledge, but with a lack of understanding, compassion. This didn't bother the Doctor, for it was something he could understand, but it just felt odd to have someone else act like their heart had been closed off.

"The Mayor confirmed Applejack's story. She was in her house on the night of the murder, and, at about one-thirty in the morning, the doorbell rang. That's when she found Spike."

"Could she be lying to you?" The Doctor asked.

Spock pondered for a moment, then answered. "No... I believe her story. She's far too distraught to have committed such a crime."

The Doctor had to disagree. "But she could be distraught because she did commit the crime. She could be traumatized by what she had to do. Maybe she was an accomplice of some sort. Maybe she is telling the truth, but maybe she is not. Besides, we don't have any evidence other than three versions of the same story, that's not nearly enough evidence to rule her out as a suspect. She's a primary witness. She was there."

Spock, his expression unreadable, answered back to the Doctor's suspicions. "You make a valid point, but I believe that she is an innocent, a victim. Normally, I would agree with you, as I am one to follow protocol to a strict degree, but I must make exceptions. Everything I've known in my relatively short career in Star Fleet has been a situation where I could follow the required protocol of anyone serving in the Fleet. But now, with no known technology, my crew deceased, and being in a situation where I have no other option but to defy the very protocol I've striven to serve by, I have been forced to do something I have not had to do in a very long time: I've had to trust what humans call a "gut feeling". My gut feeling, despite my not being a human, is that the Mayor is an innocent, for I saw a sincerity in her. I saw a sincerity that told me she did not commit the murder."

The Doctor looked Spock right in the eye. "So, you believe that if someone is sincere enough, that anything they tell you is bound to be the truth?"

Spock raised and eyebrow. "No, but it seems to me you have insecurities about people and their sincerity. By my observations, even though you have seemed to close your heart off, you are still very much an emotionally inclined creature. Such emotion can lead to one's downfall. Regardless, I believe we should put our squabble behind us and focus on the task at hand."

As much as the doctor wished to argue his point, Spock had a point. "You're right. Fighting won't get us anywhere. And if you are to be my companion we must work together. Let's go see what exactly happened to this Spike character."

"Agreed." Spock said as the Doctor walked past him. "But know this, Doctor: Our conversation is not yet finished."

The Doctor said nothing, but just walked up to the scene of the crime, passing through the magical field. The world seemed to stretch around him, pulsing and turning in a way that made the Doctor's head spin. The field was invisible, but now that he was forced to pass through it, he felt weakened. After much pressure and pushing, the Doctor finally passed the threshold. Stumbling, he leaned against the wall, and looked to see Spock struggling with the field. He thought of helping the Vulcan, but he was able to get through the field before the Doctor could do anything.

"Wait." The Doctor put a hand up to stop Spock. "If this magical field was able to protect the body and possibly prevent others from coming in, how did we pass through?"

Spock stopped in his tracks. He suddenly looked confused, unable to come to a conclusion as to how the two passed through the magical field. "I... I am unsure of how this happened. The thought never once occurred to me to ask if the field would be dangerous or not. Surely this could have led to our complete and utter destruction but... For some reason, it didn't. "

The two didn't have to ponder long, for the Mayor came and stood against the field. "It's a field that was designed to protect against Equestrian creatures." Her voice was weak, shaky. "Since you are not from here, you were able to pass through without much difficulty." Well, that answered that question rather quickly.

"Well then," Spock stated, "that was rather quick, I must say. Nevertheless, we should proceed to the body of the victim. Mayor," he began, turning to her, "we appreciate all that you have done for us. You may return to the Cakes' residence. We shall call you if we need any more information, and we still cannot rule you out as a suspect, as you are a witness." The Mayor, tearfully, turned around to leave. "Just, please, be sure to be careful with whomever it is that you trust... I know these are trying times, and you fear for your life, but I implore you..." He paused to make some odd gesture with one of his hands. "I implore you, wish you the best of luck, to live long and prosper." The Mayor whispered her thanks, and quickly galloped away, leaving a rather large cloud of dust in her wake.

Right. Now that that's all over, we can actually get something done around here. With that thought in mind, the Doctor headed toward Spike's body. What he came across was rather grisly, to say the least.

Spike was crumpled on the door. His arms were separated at the shoulder, as if they were chopped off. The rest of his body was not sliced apart. Rather, there were hundreds of smaller cuts and slashes all over his body, with varying degrees of depth and length. There seemed to be no real pattern to the slashes, as if they were all random. Interestingly enough, however, was the fact that Spike's head had not been touched at all. No slashes. No cuts. No wounds. But, there was also something else off. Spike, in regards to the pictures the Doctor had seen at Twilight's house, seemed to be brightly colored, popping with zeal, scales and spines shimmering in the light. But here, Spike's body was literally drained of almost all color, as if someone sucked the color out of him. Then, other than the red-colored blood on the door, there was no actual blood anywhere else around him. The slashes were bloodless, and even his separated arms were just a mass of muscle and bone... No color.

"Doctor, look at this." Spock, who was now to the right of the Doctor, was observing the bag he had carried. The bag was a simple messenger bag, with gems sewn into the fabric, making it shine and sparkle. There was a rough slash mark along the bottom, and the bag itself was empty. "Whomever killed Spike wanted whatever was in his bag. He, she, or it took everything that was in it, however. Fascinating! And, look at the blood on the door, Doctor. Do you see anything unusual?" The Doctor, along with Spock, observed the blood-stained door. At first, there seemed to be no connection to the spatter. But upon closer inspection, the blood spatter had patterns in it. "It seems like our perpetrator spattered the blood on the door, then finger-painted some kind of odd symbols into the blood."

Spock was correct. The symbols were odd. They were unlike anything the Doctor had ever seen, complex runes with slashes and swirls and circles and ovals and triangles and octagons and ellipses and numerous other shapes intertwined in rather confusing patterns. What do these runes mean? Is this the clue that Bitch The Voice spoke of? Spock turned to the Doctor. "Do not worry. I have already mentally memorized the runes. we can decipher them at a later date. It also seems to me that, other than the cuts on Spike's body, both his severed arms and the bag seemed to be cut by a similar tool. It reminds me of a saw of some sort."

"A chainsaw, perhaps?" The Doctor surmised. "If you look closer, you are right. The cuts seem a lot more clean, but the skin, bone, and muscle at the shoulders is almost shredded."

Spock nodded his head. "Yes, that may make sense. These Equestrian ponies seem to have a society not unlike humans, as far as the technological advancements are concerned. The similarities are almost disturbingly close, other than the fact they are equines, and your species, as well as mine, are bipedal humanoids. They probably have a chainsaw of sorts. But that does not explain the colorlessness, the lack of blood, the red blood on the door, and the missing items of the bag." Spock sighed. "There are many unanswered questions here. Many we may not ever answer, I fear."

The Doctor was puzzled. "Why do you say that?"

Spock turned to the Doctor. "We know literally next to nothing about this world, its laws, its government, its inhabitants. I fear we may not be able to help with this murder in any significant way, unless we are somehow personally involved, which is next to impossible. We would help in no more a way than another pony from another town who decided to help Twilight and Applejack. But then there's the fact that we passed through that magical field. And there was that rainbow light that caused all this in the first place. I have no idea what it means. I'm confuzzled."

"What?" The Doctor asked.

"My apologies. I meant that I am fraternity." Spock suddenly paused, shriveling his face in confusion over what he just said. "Nevermind. Let's just get back to Twilight and go over our findings. With all those books in Twilight's lemons, we're devilish to break a catch." Spock blinked, and shook his head. "Let's just gargle."

The Doctor suppressed a chuckle, but had to agree with the Vulcan. They needed to solve this case and its mysteries. Quickly. Then there was Bitch The Voice. The Doctor reminded himself to tell Spock and Twilight of this voice, and the riddle, as well. So, the not-so-dynamic duo set off to Twilight's house, ready to uncover the mystery of Spike's mysterious murder, and get one step closer to getting off Equestria...