Memoirs of the Mindless

by Writey the writer

Chapter 4: Silver and Pink

Chapter 4: Silver and Pink

“It’s still your move,” he said slowly. He raised his eyes from the chessboard to the bloodied stallion. His face was messed-up and still swollen from the week's ordeal, but they still didn’t have what they wanted. The stallion move a knight and sat back seeming pleased with his efforts. The shorter stallion who had previously spoke shook his head. “You’ve lost again, Blitz.”

Blitz studied the board, but he still couldn’t see it and he knew what it meant. His hooves began shaking involuntarily. “Come-on, one more game,” he pleaded. “Clock, come-on, please.”

The smaller stallion moved a his bishop then raised his eyes from the board. He smiled and propped a hoof under his chin. “Call me Detective, or call me Silver. I don’t go by Clock.”

Blitz swallowed hard. “Detective, please d-”

“Did I make you lose?” asked Silver, looking away from the sweating stallion.

“No.”

“Do I owe you a favour? Am I indebted to you in any way?” he asked leaning forward.

Blitz shook his head. A door opened behind him and he tensed up.Two large stallions grabbed him and dragged him to his hooves. They quickly turned him and walked him back to the same room, like the other twenty-two times that week.

“Better luck next game, eh?” Silver shouted down the corridor. He sat back in his chair and wondered how many more rounds until they broke that stallion, both physically and mentally beating him. The stallion had been charged with harbouring a fugitive with sufficient evidence to prove it. All they needed was an admission and a location of said fugitive, neither of which he expected to come any time soon.

A short, fast knock came at the door. Silver glanced to his wristwatch then to the door. “Come in!” The door opened just enough for a blue mare to step through.”Before you say anything please be aware that this conversation is being recorded and anything said can be used in contribution to this or any other cases and that-”

“Shut-up, Silver,” she said grinning.

He smiled and switched off the recorder. “What’d you need?” he asked, standing.

“You, in the east staff lounge, twenty minutes.” She noticed the open door at the other end of the room. “We’ll get somepony to cover for you.”

“Am I in trouble?” he asked hesitantly.

She shook her head. “It’s about your brother, Detective. But we’d need to talk somewhere a little more...confidential.”

He nodded. He hadn’t seen his brother since the last Hearth-Warming Eve, at least eight months back. They never really got along well. From youth to adulthood, always competing. It was partially the reason they both got into the same profession, and although he didn’t like admitting it, also because of their father. His father was a stallion of older morales. Earth-pony through every generation. He wanted the best for his sons. Both going to good educations, but it never felt like a life he had chosen. More so, he felt like his father had given it to him.

His brother wouldn’t complain either way. He had to appeal to their father. Show he was the better son. Silver would like to say he wasn’t competitive, that he didn’t care too much about who his father chose, but he’d be lying. He cared whether he wanted too or not. A child will always to try and appease their parent.

He stood and shoved a few files from the table into his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

* * *

He pushed open the door to the staff lounge. The poster ‘Silence is considerate’ stared him in the face with small pictures of reading unicorn and sleeping pegasus.

The entire room was littered with motivational posters. ‘Try harder, and you will succeed!’ with a picture of a pegasus flying through the air with a tied parchment in their hoof. ‘Inital errors are only lessons,’ with a picture of a stallion in deep thought with a pencil pressed to his chin.
He looked across the room and saw the blue mare sitting at a table by herself. He gave a small wave which she responded with a cool nod of the head. He sat down opposite her into the overly padded chairs.

The mare cleared her throat and dropped a small file onto the desk and leaned either side of it. “We have reason to believe that your brother has gone missing, and we’re suspecting a kidnapping, but we cannot be sure yet. “

He studied her eyes for a second and then looked back down to the file. “When was he last seen?”

“A week ago. But I need to clarify that we’re not asking you to take this case. Y’know with it being family and all. We just need to inform you as being his next in kin.”

“I don’t mind taking it. He was always wandering off when he was growing up,” he said snidely.

“Yes, but as we said a potential kidnapping.” She pushed the file over toward him. He spun it around to face him.

“Red-Mane?” he asked, without looking up from the file.

“Your brother was investigating this case before his...disappearance.”

“There are some big names in here,” he said while scanning through a list of all those involved.

“It’s a big case,” she stated.

He shut the file and paused. “Why haven’t I heard about this if it’s such a big case?”

“You’ve been...occupied in your own work. It would be easy to miss something like this if your were committed as much as you are.”

He gave a well-humoured laugh.“Bullshit.”

She flinched slightly then tapped on the table. “There have been dozens missing over the past eight months,” she said hesitant. “Only a few locals, but enough.”

“So...homocide?”

“It’s probable.”

He sat back in his chair and rubbed a hoof down his face.

“As I said, you don’t need to take this case, we have-”

“When can I start?” he asked. He stood and dropped the file into his bag without looking away from her.

“Two days should be long enough,” she said.

“I’ll leave in the morning.”

* * *

“Ponyville Station, ten minutes!” shouted a conductor from the other carriage.

Silver looked up from the file on his lap to the window. The greenery outside the train slowly melded into districts of fenced-off land and became more rural. Pastures became roads. Trees became signposts. He wiped his eyes then looked back down to the file.

Another stupid government edict had prevented the contents of this file from becoming common knowledge. ‘A scare to the people,’ apparently, ‘an unnecessary disturbance.’ He couldn’t help but wonder how many other cases like this had been covered up.

We would all love to believe that it’s a perfect world, free of crime. Our race is not inclined to violence, but a bitter situation can turn anypony.

The ponies up in Canterlot look down from their embellished balconies at the pastures below.They see the fields and the towns, but they don't see the dirt, every city has them. But he can’t accuse them of anything. He would love the ignorance for himself. To wake up and think about his beautiful world, and not just the bad forgery of a perfect reality.

He flipped over another document in the file. A page was filled with names and addresses of those missing within this short period. Pictures of some, all seeming innocent enough. Besides them, a black box with the white lettering ‘Red-Mane’ stamped diagonally across it.

The killer had remained elusive for far too long. Even if it wouldn’t lead to a capture, he needed to lure them out. He looked at the bottom of the page and read the previous writer's notes, and as the train pulled into the station his mind sparked up and kindled an idea.

He stood quickly and shoved the file into his bag. A stupid smile was growing on his face as his mind began weaving a plan. There would be a cost to the plan, but the gain of a capture would be invaluable. He left the train and walked through the station into the street where he hailed a taxi.

He climbed into the elevated cart and the stocky driver turned back to face him. “Where t-?”

“Waitwaitwait,wait...” shouted a mare. She pulled the door open of the taxi and leaned in. “Are you...Detective Clock?” she asked between breaths.

“That’s my brother, I'm SIlver,” he said.

“Thank Celestia,” she said climbing in. She looked up to the driver. “Station please, Sir.” The driver nodded and began running.

“I’m sorry, but you are?” asked Silver holding out a hoof.

The mare snatched it up and shook it vigorously. “Speckled Print.” Silver nodded and removed his hoof from her grip. “Sorry, I’m your...um, assistant in this case.”

Silver looked out the window to his side. They’d thrown him in with a rookie.

“Have you made much thought into this case?” Print asked leaning forward so she was in his peripheral vision.

Silver sighed. “I have, but this isn’t the place to talk. And you haven’t shown me any ID, so to my knowledge you might even be Red-Mane.”

“Oh, ID,” she said as the isolated thought jumped back into her head. She patted her pockets and reached into her bag. “I had my ID this morning...um.” She fumbled around a bit more. “One sec’.”

Silver watched for another second before turning back to the window laughing. “Fucking, rookies,” he said to himself.

* * *

The roads out of Ponyville spread like cracked glass from the simple town centre. One road came from the north. It was a great road travelled by thousands over the years. Originally a path to the southern cities, now an interception with a simple town. It is less travelled now, but it still accommodates as the main route from the north to south.

Pinkie leaned out from the side of a tree and stared down the long, dusty path. A stallion peaked over the top of a hill, his silhouette stark against the sun.

She looked back toward Twilight and gripped her cloak.

“Remember, be forward but not overzealous,” muttered Pinkie from under her hood.

Twilight nodded and took a deep breath. She had only one chance for this to work. She stepped out from behind the tree onto the path and started walking down the track. The stallion hadn’t seemed to notice her yet. He was her mark. Her first assignment alone.

He was of medium build, slightly taller than average, but with red eyes like many of the travellers from the north. He towed a small cart filled with bags and other small wrapped parcels.

She gave a small nod and a smile as she passed . Seem initially friendly. She lit up her horn and moved the spoke of the wheel backward so it jarred the wheel. Make him start talking anyway you can.

The carriage wheel locked and spun the back-end so it collided with her leg knocking her to the ground. Create a scenario and roll with the punches, get him here however you can.

“Oh, my leg!” Twilight shouted clutching her foreleg. The stallion quickly undid his saddle and made his way over .

“Oh my, I’m so sorry,” he apologized with an unfamiliar accent.”This stupid cart has been acting up all day.”

Twilight clutched her leg and groaned again.

“Are you okay?” he asked taking a step closer.

“No, I think it’s broken,” she said wincing as she clutched it.

“D-do you want me to take me to a hospital?”

“You could just take me back to my place, my roommate is a doctor,” she said with a false stuttering of her voice.

“If you’re sure.” He picked her up and placed her carefully into the cart. “Where’d you you live?” he asked with obvious worry in his voice.

* * *

Pinkie dropped the blood-soaked towel into the tub of water. Twilight stood behind her clutching a crimson knife.

“You did this one all on your own, too,” Pinkie said smiling. She swirled the towel around in the tub turning the water into a deep pool of red ichor.

Twilight smiled. “When can we get another?” she asked, rolling the blade in her hoof. It was beginning to feel more comfortable in her grip, like a extension of herself.

Pinkie shook her head. “Couple of months, maybe?” This had been the second killing this month, and after the only recent killing of a leading detective. She was expecting another to be en route, and the police who still existed would probably be very cautious.

Twilight nodded and gripped the knife tighter.

“You’re both dead,” said a weak voice from behind them.

Pinkie snatched up a smaller blade from the table and stepped toward him. “I hardly think so.” she said slowly. She stroked the blunt-end of the knife under his chin. He shivered as the cold steel ran over his exposed neck.

He choked and gave a small grin. “This is what he planned.” The stallion coughed and spat blood.

“What does he mean?” Twilight asked, taking a step toward him.

“They...” she gave a small gesture of the knife toward him, “they sometimes do this. Making random threats of second or third parties coming to avenge them.” She laughed. “You ignore them eventually.” She turned to walk away.

“You’re a fool Red-Mane,” said the stallion.

Pinkie stopped at her second feared name spoken to her. It felt good. It felt empowering. She had a presence. A name to carry in legends. She turned back to him slowly. “How am I a fool?”

“You’re late. Going to loudspeaker in ten!” came a voice from one of the stallion's many bags.

Pinkie winced and ran to the bags. “Kill him!” she shouted.

Twilight gripped the knife and ran toward him. The stallion looked at her then to the bag. “Detective, they live at-” Twilight plunged the knife into his neck. He spluttered and began drowning as his blood entered his lungs. He shook for a moment and then fell limp.

Pinkie opened two bags and threw them to the side. She opened a smaller red bag a saw a green flashing light. She reached in and pulled out a walkie-talkie. The wire was bound at the end with tape.

The room fell silent apart from the occasional echo of dripping blood landing in a pool by Twilight`s hooves.

Pinkie brought the receiver to her lips and stared at Twilight, who still held the knife into the stallion’s neck.

"Hello?”

“Hello, Red-mane.” A stallion laughed on the other end. “I never thought this would actually work, truly I didn’t. We could have spent weeks handing out these things to every passer-by. But just one the first night!” He laughed again.

“We haven’t met.”

“My apologies, Red-Mane. I’m Clock.”

“You’re the new detective.”

“Indeed I am. “

“In relation to the stallion I bled out last week.”

“Two for two. How's my companion doing over there? He was a nice fellow, quite chatty.”

Pinkie sighed. “Dead."

"Shame, really. He was one of the more cooperative ones."

"You don’t seem all that concerned that I murdered your kin.”

“He was always a wild one anyway.” Clock smacked his lips. “You probably wouldn’t have liked him. But we’re not here to talk about him, are we? I want to know about you.” Clock laughed. “I mean how does one go about murdering–what is it?–eighteen ponies in eight month, and still not get caught?”

“I have my methods.”

“I’m sure you do. But we’ll have plenty of time to talk about those when we’re face to face.”

“It might be difficult, though.”

“Why’s that, Red-mane?”

“I heard it was difficult speaking when there's a knife in your chest.”

“So I could imagine. Oh and who’s your little friend?”

“I work alone.”

“Aw, isn’t that sweet, trying to cover for your little pal. I’ll tell you what, and you’ll like this, I’m going to find you, Red-Mane, and your little friend. And then I’m going to watch you get hanged for your crimes.

“Is that a promise?”

“You have my word.”

Pinkie laughed. “I look forward to it.”

He laughed. “Until then.”

The line went dead. Pinkie slowly removed the walkie-talkie from her ear and smiled. Twilight watched her intently as she moved to place down the walkie-talkie on the bench.

“What happens now?” Twilight asked, still gripping the knife.

Pinkie walked over to the dead stallion. “Now,” she said stroking his cheek, “now, we wait.” She swallowed hard. “We wait for him to make the first move, we learn our enemy.”

She began laughing and turned to Twilight.

She bore a look Twilight had only seen once. A look of blinding mallace stirred into her darkened psyche. Eyes wide and staring, lips stretched in toothy grin. All mixed in a unassuming body with a rosy laugh. “And once we know our enemy.” She continued laughing. “We will kill him.”

Comments

[shandesa]

Good job, I like the relation between pinkie and twi, hope to see an update soon.

[burnt-feathers]

Yay! Glad to see this one update, the story is very intriguing, please continue.

[Lucky Break]

Interesting, posted on TTP here: -link-

[Som3thing]

Please keep it coming!

[Pen Expers]

All the ponies here are braindead.

Seriously. Pinkie waits a while after every kill, seemingly to avoid suspicion. And she doesn't even check bags of her victims.

Detective is proud of himself, because a stallion working under him got killed. *claps slowly* Great job, detective. Sacrificing lives just to talk to someone who should've already been caught.

Sorry if my comments seem harsh, but the plot is nonsensical.

[Pen Play]

3895855 But if pinkie checked the bags, the game would be less fun. Also, you're NOT supposed to get multiple civilians killed while working on a homocide case? Holy shit, I've been doing it wrong!