One fall evening, thirteen guests are invited under odd circumstances to an Everfree Forest manor. Little do they realize that there's a mole among them. Can they stop them before it's too late?
Brought together under mysterious circumstances, thirteen guests find themselves trapped in a manor with no way out. Little do they realize that amongst their numbers lurks a killer with a lethal agenda. Could it be the ever-elusive Time Turner? Or the meek animal lover Fluttershy? Most importantly, can they find them out before they've all dropped dead?
Within the depths of the Everfree Forest, a brown stallion nervously hurried toward a mysterious destination. A storm was approaching on the horizon, sending brisk gusts of wind whirling through the branches hanging overhead. He stopped in his tracks, briefly looked around to make sure no one was watching, and took a piece of parchment out of his bag.
He carefully unfolded the paper and set it on the ground. It was unsigned, and was written in a barely legible scrawl. The message itself was fairly simple, giving nothing but a time to arrive and a set of directions. He honestly would have ignored it if it weren't for the fact that the destination was in the heart of the Everfree Forest.
Double checking the directions to map sure he was on the right path, he folded the paper back up and put it in his saddlebag. The destination was only a few hundred feet down the path; certainly he could make it before the storm hit.
As he continued along the path, an awesome sight struck his eyes. Up ahead, a large manor house towered above what must have been the least maintained gardens in all of Equestria. Vines crawled up the facade of the building, creating an unsettling atmosphere to the place. Leading up to it was a rickety wooden bridge, providing the sole pathway to the manor over a slowly rising creek.
He carefully tested the bridge. Amazingly, despite its age, it was still supporting his weight. Cautiously he inched his way over the bridge, the deck creaking under the weight of his girth.
As he approached the end of the bridge, he heard a sound which he hadn't heard since he had left Ponyville. In the woods behind him, the familiar sound of hoof steps approached. Curious, he turned around to see a familiar lavender mare nearing his location, her head buried in a notebook.
"This should be the place, according to the letter. But why would I be directed to the middle of the Everfree forest?" She trotted over the bridge without hesitation, too caught up in her thinking to realize the apparent danger of the situation.
"Excuse me, miss." Startled, she dropped her notebook to the ground. "Oh my, I am so sorry! I didn't realize that you didn't see me."
Twilight chuckled. "No need to apologize. I just sometimes get so caught up in things, and I was just wondering why anyone would send me to this part of the Everfree Forest. You see, earlier today, I got a letter in the-" she cut herself off and took a few over cautious steps back from him.
"Wait. You got a letter too?" Time Turner reached into his bag and pulled out his letter. Twilight came back over to him and gave the letter a careful look.
"Yes, yes I did . . . Time Turner, according to this. I haven't seen you around town. Are you new in town?"
"No, not particularly. You're probably newer in town than me, Twilight."
Upon hearing her name, she gasp a small gasp. "H-how do you know my name?"
Time Turner rolled his eyes. "You really don't know how well known you are."
Slightly offended, she readied a response, only to be interrupted by a nearby roar of thunder. "We really should head indoors. We don't want to her caught in this kind of weather." Time Turner nodded in agreement and followed her to the front door of the ominous manor.
Thankfully, the door was already unlocked. The pair walked into the foyer, which was lit up by a massive crystal chandelier. Some pony had recently been in here, since the furniture was all dusted and the chandelier was free of any cobwebs. Toward the rear of the room, an archway led into what appeared to be a dining room.
Time Turner set his saddlebag down on a chair by the door. Taking in the scenery, he sat down on a nearby sofa and kicked his hooves up. Across the room, Twilight was examining a set encyclopedias, carefully rearranging them into alphabetical order.
Two curved staircases led up to the second story of the house, shielded from the rest of the room by a wrought-iron banister. Near Twilight, an antique grandfather clock ticked away at the seconds, the pendulum swinging back and forth hypnotically.
A few minutes passed by before anything else happened. The void felt awkward in the massive room, but Time Turner couldn't think of anything to discuss with the princess. He let out a sigh of relief when the door opened and a small crowd of stuffy looking ponies. The older stallion he recognized as Filthy Rich, but the other two were completely unfamiliar to him.
One of the unfamiliar ponies was a brown unicorn with thick-rimmed glasses and an argyle sweater. From what he could tell from their current conversation, he was apparently a journalist for a travel magazine. The other unfamiliar mare had a white coat and a cherry white mane, a perfect compliment to her cutie mark, a pair of cherries.
The newest guests settled in the corner of the room between him and Twilight. She hardly seemed to notice that anything had happened and continued to sift through the encyclopedia volumes. Bored, Time Turner got to his feet and went to the dining room.
The dining room was ornate in design. In the center of the room, a table with fourteen chairs around it was set with fine china and ornately decorated silverware. Off to one side, a swing door led to what he could only presume was the kitchen. Wall lamps ran down either side of the room, illuminating the room in an incandescent light.
At each spot, he noticed a small name card. His name was near the middle on the right side of the table, while the spots to either side of him were reserved for Granny Smith and Cherry Jubilee. He figured that must have been the unfamiliar mare out in the foyer.
From what he could work out, most of the places were reserved for residents of Ponyville, though the name of Trenderhoof didn't ring a bell with him. Strangely enough, the spot at the head of the table wasn't reserved, though. Before he could come up with an explanation, his thought process was interrupted by another posse of ponies coming through the door.
A blur of pink whirled past the doors, closely followed by Rarity, Fluttershy, and Granny Smith. It was a miracle she made it in the door; he knew Granny was tough, but for a mare her age to make it all the way out here was impressive. Exhausted, she collapsed on the sofa he had been sitting on earlier.
The pink blur crashed into Twilight, knocking her into the bookshelf and sending the whole collection tumbling to the ground. As the dust settled, it became quite clear that the blur was Pinkie Pie. "Hiya, Twilight! Did you get a super-duper mysterious letter too?"
A dazed Twilight nodded in response as everypony else rushed to her aid. She wasn't hurt, but a few chuckles spread around the group as they cleared the mess. Even Fluttershy couldn't help but let out a snicker.
The cleanup effort was interrupted by an unexpected rumble. The storm that had been mere miles away half an hour ago was slowly encroaching the manor, darkening the already dim evening sky. Soon enough, the place would probably be drowned in the endless torrent of rain.
As the last of the books was returned to the shelves, another small party entered the manor. The party was led by Lyra Heartstrings, closely followed by two contrasting pegasi, Thunderlane and Bulk Biceps. Water dripped off their coats, leaving a trail of small puddles in their wake.
Lyra shivered as she sat down on a chair near the staircase. Snot dripped from her nose as she grabbed a nearby blanket to warm herself up. Thunderlane and Bulk Biceps had made out a lot better; not surprising, considering that pegasi were naturally designed to hold up better to the elements.
The hands on the clock continued to inch closer to six o'clock. Outside, the weather had gradually turned from a light trickle into a heavy downpour. All through the room, everyone but Time Turner were happily socializing, conversing on diverse topics such as business strategies or why they had been invited here.
The minute hand finally struck the hour as a final pony bolted in the door, slamming it behind her. Cheerilee was breathing heavily, soaked by the downpour outside.
" This isn't good guys. The bridge out front has washed away, so we're probably trapped here until a search party comes looking for us."
The chatter in the room suddenly stopped. The weight of the message hit everypony hard. Not only did they not know why they were there, they had no way of leaving. Rarity took it worse than the others; the moment she heard the news, she immediately fainted onto a nearby couch.
A voice called from back in the kitchen. "Hey guys, look what I found! There's a whole meal prepared for us in the kitchen! Who wants daffodil salad?" Pinkie had somehow managed to work her way to the kitchen without being seen, and was carrying out a few trays loaded with entrees. Seeing no better option, the party headed to the table and sat down.
*************
Dinner had started uneventfully other than the usual playful antics of Pinkie Pie. Despite the unfortunate circumstances, everypony was more than happy to strike up a conversation. The topics varied; Bulk Biceps and Thunderlane were having a boisterous conversation about their Equestria Games accomplishments, while Rarity and Trenderhoof were going off about how gorgeous the decor was.
Uncomfortably sandwiched between two seasoned farmers, Time Turner absentmindedly twirled his fork in his salad. Something was off about this whole situation, though he couldn't quite place his finger on what it was. Across the table, Twilight scribbled some notes on her napkin.
Unexpectedly, the room was filled with the sound of a record needle dropping. The conversation in the room died down, only to be interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.
"Hello, my little ponies! I'm delighted to see that you could all make it. I'm your host for this evening; don't bother asking my name, It'll be revealed soon enough.
"Moving on, I'm dreadfully sorry about the unfortunate circumstances of this evening. Trapped in a house in the middle of the Everfree Forest, all this time with no way to escape; it must be terrible! Don't worry though, I've made arrangements for you. Upstairs, you will each find a room with your name on it, perfectly suited to you. Yes, that includes a spare chemistry set for you, Twilight." Twilight sheepishly smiled as heads turned toward her.
"Now for some personal notes. The lounge is equipped with billiards tables if you get bored during the night. Individual rooms are not equipped with bathrooms, but they are located at the far ends of the upstairs hallway. And Pinkie Pie, despite the color, the pillows on your bed are not made of frosting. Do not eat them." Light laughter filled the air, except for a confused Pinkie.
The recording faded to static, the only sound in the room other than the drumming of rain. No one moved except for Time Turner, who was writing down notes on a napkin.
Breaking the silence, Twilight addressed the party. "I think we all know what we do now. It's time to settle in for a long night."
After dinner was over, most of the group went upstairs to explore their appointed rooms. Cherry Jubilee, however, decided to go explore the lounge that had been mentioned earlier. Upon arriving, she collapsed on the large, beige sofa next to the door.
She sighed, figuring out what could she do within the mansion other than go to sleep. Cherry sat up and looked at the entirety of the lounge room, looking for something she could do to pass the time. The amazing antique decorations of the room had caught her interest.
“Wow, the decorations certainly do look nice,” she mentioned to herself. She got up from the sofa and began gazing about the room, admiring everything from the small chandeliers to the tables each having a different game for one’s amusement. Cherry stopped looking around when she noticed Filthy Rich entering into the room. She began to pressing in parts of her mane to make sure that no part of it was sticking out from laying on the sofa.
“Oh, good evening, Ms. Cherry. Pleasure to meet you,” said Filthy, getting comfortable on the couch she had been sitting down only moments before, “Wow, what a comfy sofa.”
“Why, yes it is quite a comfy sofa indeed, Mr. Filth-, I mean Mr. Rich,” Cherry said, putting a hoof to her chin and looking away for a moment before continuing, “So… might I ask what brings a stall like you here at this time of the night?”
Filthy Rich looked up at the chandeliers and then down at Cherry, “I guess I just decided to take a stroll down to the lounge to see what they had. Just happens you were here.”
"Oh, I see," Cherry responded, the billiard table in the center of the room catching her eye. Following her line of sight, Filthy smirked, an idea coming to his head.
"Are you up for a quick game of eight ball?" He trotted over to one side of the billiard table and picked up a cue that laid on top of it. "It wouldn't be long. Just for a short while."
Cherry smiled as she trotted over to the opposite side of the table. She faced him and picked up the other cue and began eyeing the board for the cue ball. Filthy grabbed the rack overhead and placed it on the table, carefully filling it with the multicolored balls.
"Ready Ms. Jubilee?" Filthy said, trotting behind the head rail and placing the cue ball on the table. Cherry smiled as she raised up her cue.
"My my, I haven't played this hoot of a game in a darn long time. Let's see if I still got what it takes, huh," she said, trotting a few inches behind him. As Filthy lined up his first shot, Cherry looked on intently, secretly hoping he would scratch his first shot.
Filthy held the cue to his left hoof, lining up his shot. With the sudden movement of his right hoof, the cue ball sped across the table. It hit the balls head-on, scattering them in all directions. Surprisingly, not a single ball rolled into a pocket.
"Aw, nuts!" He sighed, accepting the fact that things weren’t going his way. Cherry snickered, stepping up to the rail for her turn.
He tossed the chalk onto the table for her. "It's for you to make a better shot." Filthy winked, and Cherry kept her smile while taking up the chalk to rub against the tip of her cue stick.
"Thanks," Cherry replied, heaving the chalk back to him. She looked at the four ball near the center pocket of the table, slightly blocked from her angle by the seven.
"Don't mention it," he said, putting the chalk into his side pocket. He looked on intently, hoping she would somehow miss her shot. She was steadying her cue when he asked, "So I hear you have a business going in Dodge Junction. Is everything still going fine for you?"
Cherry's smile had fallen away, washed away by words that caused her discomfort. She made her shot, sending the cue ball flying across the table into the seven, setting off the chain reaction that pocketed the four.
"W-Well ya know, it's doing quite fine. Except for the fact that-," Cherry paused, not sure if she was to continue her thought on the future of her business.
"The fact that what?" Filthy responded, a look of concern on his face.
"Except for the fact there's gonna be a huge drought that would bake my precious cherries faster than an oven can bake an appleberry pie!" Cherry turned to Mr. Rich, "If I don't find away to protect my precious cherries, I won’t have enough to sell and that might mean I won’t have enough to start up next season. An' I don't want all my years of hard work to go with the wind, ya know?"
Filthy gave a sympathetic nod. Cherry continued her turn, pocketing two more balls before scratching. Filthy stepped up to the table, only to scratch on his first shot.
"You know-," Filthy started.
"Yes?" she responded, trying to line up her next shot.
"I could help you with your problem. With the bits I own, I could help you keep your business by building a few greenhouses for you to grow your cherry crop so that you could get through the drought crisis."
Excited, she dropped her cue stick and hugged him, "Oh thank you kindly for such a great offer! I really appreciate your every bit a' kindness."
"You're welcome," -Filthy smile had changed into an expression of arrogance,- "But what would make me really glad right now is me defeating you at this game."
Cherry released her hooves from around him, leaned her head sideways and shot him cocky stare, "You could try, pumpkin, but no pony could defeat me so easily. You're gonna have ta work harder than that if you want a chance against me."
"Alright, we'll just see about that," Filthy trotted over to the right side rail of the table and lined up his next shot. Just as he was pulling back his cue, the phone in the corner of the room began ranging.
Distracted, Filthy picked up his cue. He started trotting over to the phone, only to be stopped by Cherry. "You go on and take your shot, hon. I'll answer the phone."
She picked up the phone as Filthy tried to line up his shot again. "Hello?"
She waited a few seconds, only to hear the other end cut off. "Welp, I guess the-," She was interrupted by a yellow cloud of gas hitting her in the face. As the gas hit her lungs, she began violently hacking. Gasping for air, she fell to the floor.
"Filthy..." She continued to cough loudly, "...H-Help..."
"Good Celestia, what happened!" Filthy dropped his cue stick to the floor and ran to Ms. Jubilee's side.
She was desperately gasping for air, trying to hold on for dear life. Despite her best efforts, it was mere seconds before she collapsed lifelessly in his hooves. Her last breaths were accented by the chimes of the grandfather clock in the foyer.
"Somepony help!" His panicked screams echoed through the halls, interrupting the otherwise tranquil evening. Unsure of what just happened, curious ponies began rushing down the stairs to the source of his voice.
Upon their arrival, they were greeted by a shocking scene. Filthy was holding a lifeless Cherry in his arms, eyes wide in horror. A few faces turned away in sheer horror, while even Pinkie Pie deflated, realizing the weight of the situation.
Twilight broke off from the group and walked up to Filthy. She placed her hoof upon her neck, only to confirm what they feared. She gave a disheartened nod to the group, and turned back to Filthy. "What happened?"
"I-I don't know. The phone rung, and she picked it up, and now she's d-dead!" Filthy broke down into tears. Twilight looked back down at Ms. Cherry and shed a tear for their lost comrade.
Twilight turned and addressed the crowd standing in the doorway. “As the newest Princess of Equestria, I feel it is my duty to get to the bottom of this, and figure out what happened here. I suggest you all return to your rooms.”
“But Twilight, what if there’s a killer on the loose and he comes for us while we’re waiting in our rooms? I don’t want to be the next pony on his list!” cried Lyra from the doorway.
Several of the ponies echoed the distraught mare’s sentiments, and soon the quiet house was filled with the incoherent ramblings of the scared occupants.
Fluttershy sobbed in the corner of the room, while Cheerilee did her best to calm the emotional Pegasus. Trenderhoof lovingly stroked the trembling foreleg of Granny Smith, who could only stare in horror at the lifeless body resting in the middle of the lounge. A still-crying Filthy Rich had been escorted to the beige sofa by Time Turner, who was doing his best to get the traumatized stallion to breathe.
The din of the room was not being helped by the ever increasing volume of the arguing Pegasi in the air. Thunderlane and Bulk Biceps were screaming at each other about what should be done, their voices rising along with their bodies. Each disagreement between the two led to them flying higher and higher in an attempt to assert their dominance over the other in a typical pegasus manner.
Twilight could only stare in horror as the chaos unfolded around her. Lyra had made a point of confronting the Princess directly, effectively ruining all chances of corralling the rest of the ponies into some semblance of order. The mint-green unicorn was yelling mere inches from Twilight’s face, and the thought had crossed Twilight’s mind to turn Lyra into a lyre, if only to receive some respite from the nagging.
Her train of thought was cut off by the slow moving pink pony crossing the room. Twilight watched as the normally excited, cheerful mare somberly approached the now lifeless body of Cherry Jubilee, a white sheet in her mouth. Where she got the sheet, Twilight had no idea, but the clean fabric accompanied by the deflated mane and tail of the once ubiquitous party pony sent chills down Twilight’s spine. She watched in silent fascination as her friend gently covered the former owner of Cherry Hill Ranch.
The roar of the room died down as one by one the occupants of the room noticed Pinkie Pie making her way towards the center. The harrowing image of the emotionless party enthusiast providing comfort to the one creature who didn’t need it struck them all to the very core of their being.
“Don’t worry, Ms. Jubilee,” said Pinkie, laying the white sheet over her one-time employer. “I’m sure there’s a nice cherry orchard where you’re at. And you don’t even have to sort them! They already come off the trees, ripe and ready to go! Why, I’m sure Granny Pie would just love to try one of your famous cherry treats. Don’t be sad, Ms. Jubilee! You don’t have to worry about anything anymore. You’re in a better place now.”
Pinkie sat in silence, staring down at the floor between her hooves. Tears streamed down her face, and occasionally a small sniff could be heard coming from the crying mare as she fought the wave of grief that threatened to overrun her.
“Why don’t we all return to our rooms?” said Twilight quietly. “Pair up, if you don’t feel comfortable by yourselves. I’m going to do my best to get to the bottom of this quickly.”
Silently, the ponies nodded one by one and exited the room. Fluttershy walked over and gave Pinkie a warm hug before treading upstairs.
“Mr. Rich, why don’t you come with me? I want to talk to you...privately,” said Twilight. She led the way out of the room, followed closely by the upset stallion.
Only Pinkie Pie and Time Turner were left in the lounge. Quietly, he approached the somber mare still staring down at the husk of Cherry Jubilee.
“Pinkie, are you alright?”
She turned and smiled at the brown pony beside her.”Don’t worry, Doctor Whooves. I’m sure Twilight will get to the bottom of this. She’s the smartest pony I know.”
“Pinkie, for the last time, I’m not—“
“I know that,” said the pink pony, giggling. “Even though you write those romantic novels about our favorite mailmare. You could just ask her out, you know. I’m sure she’d say yes.”
With that, Pinkie turned and bounced out the door of the room, humming to herself. Time Turner watched her go, the marked change in her behavior a relief to him. Though he didn’t know if it was a trick of his eyes, or a trick all her own, he swore Pinkie’s mane no longer lacked the vibrancy it had before; while certainly not as voluminous as it had been, her mane bounced along with her out the door.
************
Pinkie Pie paused in her bouncing when she reached the bottom of the stairs. Her mood had definitely improved upon leaving the room, and now that her mind was working again something struck her about what had just happened.
It wasn’t just the untimely death of Cherry that haunted her brain, though that had been a surprise. Maybe surprise wasn’t the right word. Shocker? Could be. It was definitely more than a stunner, but not quite up to the level of doozy yet. Surprise is a little too upbeat for the situation. Wake-up call? Not really. Bombshell doesn’t really apply either. Maybe I’ll see if Twilight knows a better word.
The thought of her friend brought Pinkie back to what had caused her to pause at the bottom of the stairwell. Not so much the alicorn herself, but rather what she said. More specifically, the way she said it.
“I want to talk to you...privately.”
There was definitely a hidden message in there somewhere, but Pinkie couldn’t quite put her hoof on it. She wasn’t naïve; she knew all about where foals came from and while there was a distinct possibility Twilight could be implying she wanted to see Filthy Rich for that purpose, Pinkie doubted it. It definitely wasn’t the right kind of mood, and there was no way a stork would be flying out in this weather.
Curious as to what Twilight could have meant, she decided to make her way to Twilight’s room. Walking through the hall, she paused outside the doorway leading into Fluttershy’s room. The yellow Pegasus lay on the bed in complete darkness, and from what small amount of light the open door let in from the hall she could tell her friend had not stopped crying the entire trip up the stairs. Fluttershy stared down at her hooves, silent sobbing shaking the bed slightly. She only looked up when the light from the hallway was blocked by the pink pony’s frame.
“How ya doin’?” asked Pinkie.
“Oh, um, hi Pinkie,” said Fluttershy as she wiped away fresh tears. “I’ve been better. How are you?”
“I’m doing—“
The oncoming combo Pinkie felt was one she hadn’t experienced before. Sure, the individual warnings had been there; pinchy knee, twitchy tail, and even the dreaded ear-flap-eye-flutter-knee-shake had all happened in the past. Never had they come together in such a fashion, each one fighting to bring itself to the forefront of Pinkie’s awareness. To top it all off, a doozy was making its way up from the very core of her being. Something unexpected was going to happen, and it was going to happen at Froggy Bottom Bog!
No, wait, that was last time. This one’s gonna happen here. I only hope I can stop her in time.
“Um, Pinkie? Are you all right? Oh no! It’s your Pinkie sense, isn’t it? Is it bad?”
“Don’t worry Fluttershy! You’re perfectly fine! I just need to find Twilight. We’ll talk later.” Humming, Pinkie bounced down the hall towards Twilight’s room.
When she arrived, she raised a hoof to knock, but was stopped short by the sound of arguing coming from inside. Normally, this would have called for pressing an ear to the door to hear better; Twilight’s voice was raised loud enough that her normal spy maneuvers were not necessary.
“You were the only one present, Mr. Rich! You admitted yourself that there were no other ponies there!”
A muffled reply came from behind the door, though Pinkie could not make out what was said.
“You can’t expect me to believe that, Mr. Rich! Everypony knows you are shrewd when it comes to business, and there have been several rumors that you would do anything to get rid of the competition. I had my doubts, but in light of these most disturbing turn of events, I fear that they were right.”
Another muffled reply, followed by sounds of a crying stallion.
“No, Mr. Rich, I do understand. However, I have everypony’s well being to look after. I can’t let someone like you wander around, causing everypony to fear for their life.”
Pinkie inched closer and put her ear to the door. Twilight had lowered her voice, and she sensed a change in attitude now coming from the room. It was quiet; too quiet.
“I’m sorry to have to do this Mr. Rich. Just close your eyes. It will be over in a second,” said Twilight.
Surely she’s not—, thought Pinkie.
“Ahem. By the power vested in me as Princess of Equestria, I am left with no choice but to order your deta--”
“Twilight, stop!” cried Pinkie, banging against the door. “Don’t kill him! He didn’t do it!”
A magenta glow enveloped the door, and Twilight stood in the doorway, perplexed.
“Pinkie? What are you talking about? I’m not killing anypony! I was just going to detain him until the guards...”
Whatever Twilight said next was lost to Pinkie as she felt the twitches and shudders overwhelm her. The critical moment her Pinkie sense had warned her about had arrived. With mounting horror she saw the small set of wires hooked intricately up to the door. They wound themselves through several small pulleys running along the outside of the room, each one snaking back and forth across the ceiling before finally ending above the doorway in a hook.
A hook that had been attached to a rather large crate that was falling towards Twilight Sparkle with alarming speed.
There isn’t time, thought Pinkie. Using all the force she could muster, Pinkie Pie pushed Twilight Sparkle back into the room. The crate missed the Princess’ muzzle by a hair’s width as she saw her life flash before her eyes.
A sickening thud snapped Twilight back to reality, and with mounting horror she looked down on the deflated body of one Pinkius Piecus, crushed beneath the giant crate.
“PINKIE!” Twilight sobbed as she desperately tried to shove the crate off her friend. The clock in the hall chimed the hour as the sun set on the party pony’s life forever.
When everypony retreated to the bedrooms, most of them paired up with their closest acquaintance present. Bulk Biceps and Thunderlane were no different. The two spent the latter portion of the hour pacing through their room. Their combined nervous energy kept building on itself until they were about to burst. Just when they had reached their limit, a loud crash from down the hall.
Thunderlane and Bulk Biceps burst out of their room and ran toward the source of the crash. They found the doorway to Twilight’s room blocked by a humongous crate. Beyond it they could hear somepony crying.
“Hey, are you alright in there?” Thunderlane called out. When there was no response, he turned to Bulk and asked him, “do you think you can move that crate?”
“Yeah!” Bulk loudly replied as he slammed his muscular body against the crate. After some effort, the crate toppled over to reveal what remained of Pinkie Pie. She looked like a grotesque, life size version of a Hearth’s Warming cookie. Her body was decorated with icing of blood and rainbow sprinkles of unknown origin. Her crushed bones protruded from her body like thin white chocolate chips.
Sickened by the horrific sight, Bulk Biceps gagged and fled from room as fast as his hooves could carry him. Thunderlane stood there for a solid minute trying to process the scene before him: Pinkie’s body on the floor, Mr. Rich bound to a chair, and Twilight sitting there crying into her hooves.
“Twilight, what the flying feather is going on here?” Thunderlane said with a little more anger than he intended.
“I- she just came in and… I didn’t mean to. She pushed me out of the way and… oh Celestia!” Twilight was so shell-shocked that she couldn’t think clearly.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, tell it to me straight, Twilight. You send everypony to their rooms, and half an hour later I find you with Filthy Rich tied like a hog and Pinkie dead underneath a two ton crate. You need to explain this now!”
Twilight looked up at him. “You- you think I did this?”
Thunderlane glared at the princess. “It certainly looks that way.”
“But I didn’t, I couldn’t! I would never dream of hurting anypony, especially not one of my friends. You’ve got to believe me.”
Thunderlane backed down a little. He didn’t realize he was starting to hover over the unicorn. Looking at the distraught mare, he had to admit he wanted to believe her. Sighing, he responded, “tell me what happened.”
Twilight took a deep breath to calm herself. “I brought Filthy in here to interrogate him about Ms. Jubilee’s death. After he gave me his testimony I decided to keep him detained in here until we contact the authorities. Suddenly Pinkie burst through the door and the pulley system dropped the crate… I was the one standing below it and she pushed my out of the way just in time... I’m the one who should be dead.” Twilight grew quiet as she mourned her friend.
Thunderlane turned to Filthy Rich, who was in shock over what happened. “Is this all true?” he asked. Mr. Rich silently nodded in confirmation, his eyes never leaving the body on the floor.
“Something’s going on here,” Thunderlane observed. “Two strange deaths in one night can’t be a coincidence.”
Twilight snapped back to reality. “You’re right. This entire situation reeks of foul play. It’s too early to say for sure, but somepony or something in this house is definitely a murderer and I think that they intend to strike again.” She turned to her winged companion and ordered, “Thunderlane, you need to fly to Ponyville and get help immediately. Tell Spike to contact Celestia if you need to. Just get somepony down here before things get any worse. I’ll hold down the fort until help arrives.”
Thunderlane saluted as he responded, “right away.” Quick as a whip, he flew through the window and out into the storm.
***********
Thunderlane hated flying in the rain. It messed up all his feathers and it took hours to get them just right again. Not to mention the fact he could barely see a thing through it. He had to get above the cloudline. From there he could easily find his way towards Ponyville.
He climbed and climbed as fast as he could. His wings were going numb from the exertion, but he refused to stop. Thunderlane knew that if he kept going up, he would eventually breach the cloud. He just had to keep going.
Suddenly the ground appeared through the darkness in a flash of lightning. Thunderlane pulled up as hard as he could. His hooves scraped the ground as he barely managed to level himself out. “Strange, I swear I was heading straight up this entire time. Maybe the wind just turned me around.”
He angled upwards once again. This time he made sure to fight the air currents and keep a straight course. After a few more minutes of climbing, Thunderlane found himself almost crashing to the ground again. “Fine, I’ll go through stinking storm.” He shot off into the darkness.
Thunderlane was moving at top speed, but no matter what direction he went nothing changed. There was nothing but rain, mist, and darkness everywhere. In an attempt to clear his vision, the pegasus tried to buck away some of the storm clouds. To his horror, his hooves passed through them like they were nothing but thin air. He, a pegasus was lost in a storm and there was nothing he could do about it.
“No,” Thunderlane thought to himself, “I have to get out of here. Rumble needs me to look out for him. Rainbow Dash needs me on the weather team. All of my friends, my family, everypony I know is expecting to see me again. I will NOT let them down.” A shot of adrenaline coursed through him as he braced himself.
Beating his wings harder than he ever thought he could, Thunderlane pushed on through. Up ahead, he could make out the form of a building in the distance. “This is it. That must be Twilight’s castle ahead. I’ve made it! I just need to go a little-” BOOM!
A bolt of lightning tore through the sky and struck Thunderlane. Ten thousand volts of electricity coursed through his body. It was too much, his already overworked heart burst and stopped completely. His dead body fell upon the front steps of the forest mansion. Deep in the mansion itself the dark, ominous clock struck the hour, the chimes echoing through the halls.
Crackling thunder shook the windows of the mansion and and rang out through the halls. Inside one of the grand bedrooms, Lyra Heartstrings smothered herself with the blankets of the four-poster bed, the racket making her teeth chatter. The terrified unicorn slithered out from under the covers, tears of fright streaming down her muzzle as she looked at the alarm clock on the dresser next to her. After reading the time—a quarter past nine—she turned her head and found the shadow of another unicorn staring out the window across the room.
"Trenderhoof, what was that?" she asked.
He tilted his head to let her know he was there but did not answer her immediately. He squinted one of his eyes to get a better view of something that fell on the mansion's front steps. By this time, Lyra had gotten out from under the covers and had sat upright on the bed, a position no other pony would find comfortable. She folded her forehooves as Trenderhoof bobbed his head around the lower corner of the window.
"The lightning struck a tree," he invented, the pouring rain clouding his vision. "A limb fell near the porch."
"I hope Thunderlane comes back soon," Lyra said, trying her best to mask the quiver in her voice. "First Cherry and now Pinkie Pie. What if Twilight Sparkle comes after us next?"
"What are you talking about?" Trenderhoof wrinkled his snout, walking away from the window. "I highly doubt she would do such a thing."
Outside in the hallway, Rarity's ears perked as she followed the conversation. Who in their right mind would speak that way about Twilight, the princess of friendship? After all, she was one of the first friends Rarity ever made in Ponyville and the gossip spread about her would ruin her reputation. As the discussion inside the room dragged, Rarity flung the door open with an ear-splitting creak. Lyra's eyes bulged out of her face and she screamed like a banshee when she saw the vague figure of the fashionista. Trenderhoof joined her on the bed and they clung to each other, shivering even as Rarity approached them.
"Who, Twilight?" she scoffed, walking inside the bedroom. "You could say she has those tendencies."
"Oh!" Lyra gasped, clutching her heart as Trenderhoof let her go. "Rarity, you scared us."
"I apologize, darlings," Rarity said. "By the looks of things, you two may have seen a ghost."
"Who wouldn't scream if they saw one in a place like this?" Lyra swallowed hard.
"Do you believe in ghosts, Rarity?" Trenderhoof wanted to know.
Rarity rolled her eyes. "My sister does. After all, little fillies need something to believe in, do they not?"
"What makes you say that?" Lyra questioned.
"I remember the time she told me she met a ghost in the Everfree," Rarity went on. "I could not for the life of me believe such a thing could exist."
"Well, as long as we're waiting for Thunderlane, we may as well pass some time," Trenderhoof suggested, shuffling on his haunches next to Lyra. "How about some ghost stories?"
"That sounds like fun, actually," Lyra agreed.
"You can go first, Trenderhoof," Rarity insisted.
"Well, all right," he accepted. "As you two may have known, I have traveled throughout Equestria and have heard many stories from Manehattan to Las Pegasus."
"I haven't," Lyra interrupted, shaking her head.
"By any chance, Lyra, have you been to Baltimare?" Trenderhoof wanted to know.
"Once or twice."
"Baltimare was home to many Equestrian poets," Trenderhoof went on. "Among them Pegasar Allen Poe."
"I never knew that." Rarity's beamed. "The Tell-Tale Hoof is one of my favorite stories."
"What's that about?" Lyra asked.
"It's about—" Rarity and Trenderhoof started in unison before they simultaneously burst into laughter.
"You explain," Rarity gave in, catching her breath.
"If you insist," Trenderhoof sighed. "The Tell-Tale Hoof is about a stallion who lived with his henpecking wife. One day, the stallion decided enough was enough so he grabbed an ax and dismembered the poor mare."
"No!" Lyra gasped.
Trenderhoof solemnly nodded before he continued the story. "Then, he removed the floorboards of his kitchen and put the pieces of his wife in them. That night, he heard the thumping of hoofsteps against the floorboards but when he ran downstairs, the kitchen was silent. He dismissed it as a nightmare but later that night, he heard the hoofsteps again. He trotted back to the kitchen but still no sound. Somepony heard his pacing about and alerted the authorities who came in two shakes of a lamb's tail."
"Then what happened?" Lyra leaned right next to Trenderhoof.
"He invited the constables into his house," he said. "They made themsleves at home in his kitchen of all places where he assured them that everything was fine. He heard his wife's hoof pounding against the floorboards until the guilt finally got to him. He removed the boards and showed the authorities the heinous crime. Free of the culpability, he willingly gave himself up."
"My goodness," Lyra gulped. "It's as if she was getting her revenge from beyond the grave."
"Paranoia can be a powerful thing," Rarity told her. "If that stallion did not have a conscience, he would have gotten away with it scot-free."
"What about you, Lyra?" Trenderhoof suggested. "Do you have a ghost story?"
"Now that you mentioned it," she said. "When I was a filly, I heard from one of Celestia's guards that a ghost haunted a cell in Canterlot Castle's dungeon."
"Perhaps a former prisoner?" Rarity guessed.
"Makes sense." Lyra replied. "Each time the guard passed by the cell, he felt a cold wind and heard rattling chains."
"Maybe he starved to death," Trenderhoof estimated.
"When I got old enough to find out," Lyra said, "I invited Bon Bon over to investigate with me. The guard was kind enough to walk us to the dungeon. Bon Bon wanted to get out of there, not because it was supposedly haunted, but because it stank down there."
"Did you see the ghost?" Trenderhoof asked.
"We heard the moans the guard was talking about," Lyra continued. "At this point, Bon Bon really wanted to get out for fear that the ghost would get us. We walked closer and closer to the cell and lo and behold, we found something there."
"What was it?" Rarity questioned.
"Just a guard pulling a mean prank," Lyra huffed. "He covered himself in flour and chained himself to the bars."
"And the one who told you the story believed it?" Trenderhoof lowered his brow.
"We got our revenge," Lyra recalled with a chuckle. "Bon Bon bucked him in the face, giving him a black eye."
"Then where did the wind come from?" Trenderhoof asked.
"From the window at the top of the cell," Lyra answered.
"That was nothing," Rarity snorted. "You should have been with us when we stayed at the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, Lyra. Then you would have known what true fear is like."
"Spare us the details," Trenderhoof said, rolling his eyes. "What about Ponyville, Rarity? Does that town have any haunted history?"
"Well, the ghost of the 'Mad Gagger' is a pretty popular story," Rarity began. "They called him that because he stabbed his victims and left their witnesses bound and gagged."
"Mad Gagger?" Trenderhoof gasped. "As if we didn't have enough to worry about here."
"Did this Mad Gagger have hands?" Lyra wanted to know.
"Well, no," Rarity shook her head. "He was a unicorn just like us. They say the stallion lived a normal life in his Ponyville flat. Then the day before he was to wed, his fiance ran off with his brother. Furious, the Mad Gagger got his name when he tracked the couple down to the Ponyville Inn and stabbed his brother to death. Fearful that his ex-marefriend would turn him in, he tied her to the bed and gagged her. Anypony suspicious of the unthinkable crimes would suffer the same fate, leaving him off the hook."
"What happened to the Mad Gagger?" Lyra asked.
"His ending was pretty anticlimactic," Rarity explained. "He tripped down his stairs and died of a broken neck."
"Served him right," Trenderhoof said.
"They also say if word goes out any of the Mad Gagger's wrongdoings, his ghost stalks around, stabbing the ones who spread rumors about him and tying up those who listen."
"But Rarity!" Lyra gasped. "How do you know about this? That ghost could be hearing us right now!"
"We should be safe," Rarity assured her. "He lived in Ponyville, not here."
CLICK!
The lights went out and the three ponies screamed, not moving a muscle.
"Oh no!" Rarity gasped. "What do we do?"
"Let's stay close," Trenderhoof suggested.
"Good idea," Rarity complimented. "We need to—MMF!"
Lyra said nothing after hearing her friends get cut off for fear that she would be next. Rarity and Trenderhoof emitted muffled shouting until they heard a loud thump followed by the lights clicking back on. Trenderhoof looked his helpless body over, tied to the bed with a pillowcase wrapped around his muzzle. Across from him, Rarity struggled in her bonds, gagged with her limbs tied to the chair. They both froze at the sound of the hallway clock ringing the first if its ten chimes. Out of the corner of Trenderhoof's eye, he could see a blood stain in the carpet.
In the center of the bedroom, a knife stuck out of the spine of Lyra Heartstrings' lifeless body.
The clock chimed for what seemed the hundredth time that night. Booming in his ears like thunderclaps. They assaulted Time Turner as marched up the staircase to the upper levels of the house. Two deaths in one night?
He wanted to run. Every fiber of his being told him to get out of the house as quickly as possible. If it weren't for the bridge being washed away, he would have left long ago. He cursed his earth pony body under his breath. How he wished he could have the wings of a pegasus. That would have solved all his problems.
There was nothing to do but wait until Thunderlane had returned from his flight for help. But would it take him two hours to bring help? Time figured Thunderlane must have been caught in the storm and just decided to wait it out.
Making his way to the top of the staircase, he heard a slight rustling in one of the rooms nearby. His ears perked up, absorbing all the sounds he could. The hallway fell silent. Another few moments passed and the rustling was heard again along with a slight creaking as if something was being dragged across the floor.
He put his head against one of the doorways and gave another listen. In the room, on the other side, the rustling continued with a slight small sound coming from it. He couldn't make it out, despite his efforts. A muffled sound that was difficult to distinguish. Something was going on in that room.
“Hello?” he called out. In an instant, the rustling grew more rapid, more violent. “Is somepony in there?” Again, the rustling grew out of control. Through the chaos, he was able to pick up a muffled sound. The sound of a pony trying to speak. He placed his hoof on the door knob, turning it.
The door was locked. Time shook the door hard, hoping that the knob was simply stuck. However, the door remained firm. He took several steps back from the doorway. With a head start, he rammed his side into the door. The door thundered throughout the hallway as he collided with it.
It continued to stay firm and still. Time’s side began to tingle as he took another step back. Sets of hoofsteps came from the bottom of the staircase behind him.
He turned to see two other ponies coming to him; a school teacher whose name escaped him and a large, white pegasus he knew as Bulk Biceps.
“What is with all the commotion?!” the school teacher asked.
Time turned to the doorway. “Something is going on in that room.”
Cheerilee, as he finally recalled her name, turned to the larger pony, who simply shrugged. “Maybe they simply want some privacy,” choosing her words carefully.
He didn't know why. They were all adults. Perhaps it was because she was around younger children all the time. So, she had to censor herself constantly in the classroom.
Regardless, he knew that’s not what was happening. He just knew it. He shook his head. “No. Something is going on in that room! And we need to get in there!” He placed his hooves on the door, pressing against it. “So, help me open it!”
Bulk lightly pushed Time out of the way. “Step back.” As Time stepped away from the door, the large white Pegasus took several steps back. With enough distance, he rushed forwards like a bull at a matador. With his large skull, he rammed into the door, ripping it from the wall and sending it soaring into the room, sliding along the ground.
As the trio looked into the room, they stood agape. Rarity was in a chair, her hooves tied behind her and her hind legs tied together, a tablecloth wrapped around her muzzle. She screeched as she looked towards them. Her screams muffled out and difficult to hear.
Cheerilee rushed in almost immediately. “Rarity!” she ripped the cloth from Rarity’s mouth. “Rarity, what happened?!”
Tears came down Rarity’s face as she turned her head towards the floor behind where the door would open. “Look!” Just a few feet from the door, Lyra, as he knew her, laid upon the ground, a knife embedded in her back.
Blood ran like a river from the body. Time Turner felt the taste of bile coming from his mouth, gagging him. He turned away and found himself in the hallway, coughing, desperately hoping he wouldn't vomit.
He didn't notice what the others were going through or if they were still there. After taking several moments to catch his breath, he turned back to the room. Rarity had been untied and the large pegasus was working on untying the author. Trenderhoof, he thought he was called.
“What happened?!” Cheerilee asked. Undoing one of the restraints on Trenderhoof’s legs, Bulk removed the gag from his muzzle..
Trenderhoof took in a deep breath. “We were just … just talking…” His speech broke up with deep breaths, almost hyperventilating. “And then… the lights went out and… when they came back on…”
Cheerilee and Bulk finished undoing the last restraint on his body and helped him out of the bed. Cheerilee glanced over to Rarity. “The same thing happened to the rest of the house. The power went out in my room.”
The large pegasus nodded. “Same in the hallway.”
Time Turner didn't say anything, but the lights had vanished for a few seconds. He reentered to the room, taking in a deep breath, trying to ignore the sight of Lyra on the floor. “Somepony must have messed with the power of the building.”
Trenderhoof glared at him. “Yeah.” He marched straight to Time, getting in his face. “Maybe that somepony was you!”
Time Turner’s eyes widened as he took a step back. “What?! Me?!”
Trenderhoof pointed his limp towards Time Turner. “You would know about electrical power, wouldn't you? More than anypony here! How could it not be you?!”
Time shook his head. “No. I didn't do this! I swear.”
“Stop it! Both of you!” Rarity screamed through her tears. The whole room turned their attention to Rarity as she sat crying on the floor, Cheerilee’s hooves wrapped around her. “How can you fight like this?! There has been a murder!”
Trenderhoof shook his head. “This time an escalation in violence.”
Time Turner tilted his head. “What are you talking about?”
Trenderhoof rolled his eyes and turned back to Time Turner. “Because somepony doesn’t seem to want to admit it, I’ll point out the obvious.” He made his way to Lyra’s body. He gave a deep sigh as he stood over her, as if to silently apologize for what he was about to do. “She was killed by knife.”
Time Turner shook his head. This moron thinks I’m responsible. And yet, he has to explain the obvious.
The large pegasus was left scratching his head. Time Turner hoped that he didn’t follow the stereotypical ‘big guy, small brain’. His concerns were swelling ever larger.
“But what does that mean?” the large pegasus asked.
Time Turner rubbed his forehead. “It means, she died by somepony stabbing her.”
Trenderhoof completely ignored Time Turner’s comment. “It can tell us a lot, Bulk.” He looked at the knife wound once more. Examining it closely, kneeling down to get a better look. “There seems to have been hesitation in the stabbing.”
Time Turner’s eyebrow rose. He heard Rarity whisper something to Cheerilee. He couldn’t make out what, but he didn’t care. He was far more interested in hearing how Trenderhoof would come to the ridiculous conclusion that he was the killer.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Time Turner finally asked.
“A lot, actually.” Trenderhoof replied. “It tells me that the pony who killed her was having second thoughts doing so.”
Time Turner looked away, his mouth slightly open. “Wait, are you saying that Lyra was killed … by somepony she considered a friend?”
Trenderhoof shook his head. “Looks that way.” He stood up, placing a hoof on his chin. “Think about how Pinkie Pie and Cherry Jubilee were killed.”
How could Time Turner forget about those deaths? Especially when they were mere hours ago. He didn’t know Jubilee very well, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel some kind of hurt when she was murdered.
Pinkie Pie, on the other hoof, he knew all too well. Tartarus, who didn't know Pinkie Pie? She made it her personal mission to get to know everypony in Ponyville. Even the most recluse pony was not immune to her. No matter how hard they tried. She always wore that smile on her face. That same smile she wore everyday like a piece of clothing she could never leave without.
It was Pinkie Pie who first introduced her to the mailmare of his dreams. Not that he would ever admit it. He was far too timid for her. And she far too beautiful for him.
Trenderhoof’s voice broke Time Turner from his own thoughts. “Jubilee was poisoned and Pinkie Pie set off a trap.”
“A trap meant for Twilight,” Time Turner corrected.
“Regardless!” Trenderhoof stated, glaring at Time. “Their deaths were more immediate. More thorough.”
Time put his hoof on his chin. “So, what does this have to do with me?!”
Trenderhoof marched towards him. “Poison and traps are work of an earth pony!”
Time clinched his teeth together and pointed his hoof towards Trenderhoof. “Well… maybe, you killed her!”
Trenderhoof’s head tilted back in shock. His eyes widened and his mouth was left open. “I was left bound and gagged! How could I have done it?!”
Time growled under his breath. “Maybe used your unicorn magic to kill her and tie yourself up! Then blame someone else to throw off suspicion!”
“That’s enough!” Cheerilee shouted. “Both of you!”
Time Turner turned his gaze away from Trenderhoof and marched out of the room. The nerve of Trenderhoof. Blaming him. Of all ponies. Of course, he could almost understand why Trenderhoof would act like this. He and Rarity had both been through something devastating. He wouldn’t have been surprised if he acted the same way.
But he didn’t do it. And that was that. His mind started to contemplate who might, however.
He heard Cheerilee’s voice in the background of his mind. “We are not going to get anywhere by blindly accusing one another without evidence.”
She was right. Time Turner knew that. He needed something to go on. Something about the killing that would give him more of an idea who did it.
He turned back to the room as Cheerilee began to escort Rarity out of the room. “I’m going to take Rarity back to my room. She can rest there.”
Time nodded as he watched Trenderhoof and Bulk leave the room, meeting him in the hallway. Trenderhoof gave him a disapproving glance. It was interrupted by Bulk placing his hoof on Trenderhoof’s shoulder and nudging him forward.
Bulk turned towards Time Turner. “We are going to meet downstairs. You coming?”
Time silently nodded. However, he waited for Bulk and Trenderhoof to leave for downstairs. With them out of his hair, he reentered the room where Lyra was killed. He was no detective, but he had hoped to find something about the identity of the killer.
As he combed through the carpet, stained by the river of blood, nothing came to him. He examined the chair and the rope used to restrain Rarity. Nothing. He even looked into the bed where Trenderhoof was held. Still, there was nothing.
His frustration grew with every inch of room he examined. Finally, he gave up and left the room. Hanging his head down as he stood in the hallway, still not closer to finding the identity of the murderer.
“Penny for your thoughts, deary,” a weak voice came from his left.
He looked down the hall to see the elderly Granny Smith trotting towards him. He gave a slight smile, but it only lasted a second. “There’s…,” he started, but he was hesitant to tell that there was another murder. He wasn’t sure how her old heart would take it. “Just this…” He needed a subject to talk about, but what. His mind simply spat out the first thing he could think of. “This mare that I like. But… she doesn’t know I exist.”
He mentally berated himself for not coming up with anything else clever. If he was as smart as he claimed himself to be, he would have come up with something better than that.
Granny Smith gave a slight chuckle. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. You are just too shy to talk to her, aren’t you?” He glanced away, hoping to get his mind of Lyra’s death and instead on the mare of his eyes. “Have you ever tried talking to her?”
Time Turner was almost offended by that question. But as he looked back on his previous experiences, he never really talked to her. Never talked to her as if she were a friend or somepony he had known for a long time. Instead, he was always too busy with his work. Always concentrated on something else.
“Let me tell you a little secret from an old woman.” Granny Smith placed her hoof on Time Turner’s shoulder. “Girls like to laugh and they like a stallion who is confident in themselves.” Time Turner looked away. She gave him a slight pat on the back and continued on her way.
Time Turner gave a smile. If they made it out of this, he would talk to her. Not as somepony who delivered his mail, but as somepony he would want to ask out.
But first, he had to get out of this alive. And to do that, he had some more investigation to do.
Suddenly, a slight creak came at his ears. He noticed it was coming from above him. It was only for a second, but that second was all that was needed to convince him to investigate. He glanced upward as he trotted down the hallway. He knew an attic must have been somewhere nearby.
Only a few feet from Lyra’s doorway, the attic door stared back at him. The string hung down begging to be pulled.
He reached upward and dragged the door open, the ladder extending to the floor. Climbing up, the ladder creaked loudly. He glanced behind him to make sure he wasn’t followed. The truth is he wasn’t convinced that Trenderhoof did it.
Trenderhoof may be a self-centered jerk, but he didn’t seem to have it in him for murder. At least, not from what he could tell. Besides, he didn’t look strong enough to contain three unicorns at the same time.
Now, Bulk on the other hoof. He was the perfect size and strength. And his stupidity is the perfect cover. All that was needed now was a motive. Why kill Lyra? Or Cherry Jubilee? Why try to kill Twilight?
As he arrived at the top of the steps, he quickly glanced around. The dust coated the various items around it like snow upon the ground. Lampshades of all shape, sizes and colors, boxes piled high with various writing on them, each stating their contents in black ink.
He trotted through the dust filled ‘wonderland’ and turning his head from side to side. He mentally debated with himself if being up here alone was a good idea, considering the murders that just took place not mere hours ago.
His thoughts became distracted when he saw a strange looking device. He couldn’t be certain what they were or what they were built for.
One such device was a large box shaped like a mare. He placed his hoof on the front knob and pulled it open slight. Inside scattered throughout the box were large metallic spikes. Their once metallic shine now covered in brown rust.
His whole body shook at the very thought of finding himself in one of those. He glanced around him to see another such device. Whomever their host was, he seemed to be interested in methods of punishment.
Suddenly a thunderous gong echoed throughout the entire house. Time Turner tumbled backwards nearly stepping into the torture chamber. He quickly regained his footing enough to stumble and grab a large wooden rod at the end of the room.
He took a breath of relief as the gong echoed again. However, the rod suddenly clicked and tilted downward. It wasn’t a rod at all. A lever? he thought. But for what?
A moment later, a scream came from down below. Like a thunderbolt, he rushed his way down the ladder. As he glanced into the hallway, he noticed one of the doors was still open. He rushed into the room. Laying on the bed, blood dripping into the sheets, was Granny Smith, impaled on the falling chandelier.
And standing over her, covered in blood, as the gong struck once more, was Granny Smith.
Cheerilee just didn't know what had happened. What could have been a wonderful night with friends had quickly gone downhill and became a crime scene and the ponies were disappearing, the most recent being Granny Smith. For all she knew right now, she was probably next. She decided the only thing to do was run. Her legs were shaking. She could hardly breathe and finally collapsed on the floor. "He killed her, didn't he?" whispered Cheerilee to herself. "Didn't he?" She started to think deeply about the previous deaths. About halfway through the hour Time Turner began to wander around the area, trying to find Cheerilee. "Cheerilee? Are you okay?" asked Time Turner. Cheerilee couldn't really answer that. While she was in pain, she was relieved she was in one piece. Time began to explain what had happened before. His explanation took quite some time, but when he was done, Cheerilee nodded in understanding. Bulk Biceps was slowly flying towards them, making sure nobody jumped him. Cheerilee began to stand up. "Bulk? Is that you?" yelled Cheerilee. "Cheerilee! Trenderhoof and Rarity are locked in a room and... let's say that unpleasant noises are coming from it." informed Bulk. The large pegasus escorted them to a door along the hall. "We need to bust that door down." Time Turned looked at Cheerilee, then at Bulk Biceps, then at the door. "We've got to slam into it. It's the only way." They stood back and began to break the door down. The noises had stopped, and the trio were beginning to break the door. "We should be able to do it in one final push," said Cheerilee, "and it should be broken." Once the door had fallen down, they saw Rarity tied to a chair. Trenderhoof tried to escape the room, but was stopped by Cheerilee glaring menacingly at him. He stood back, and as the two stallions by her side tackled him, he let out a cough. And with that cough came blood, as the clock chimed.
Fluttershy paced nervously in the parlor of the house, cringing in fear every time a crack of lightning or mysterious squeak echoed through the room. Despite the high occupancy of the building, she amazingly hadn’t seen a single soul pass through the room since she entered it nearly an hour beforehand.
The last pony she had seen was Twilight, who she had come across in the library, searching frantically for anything she could find related to poisons. “No… wrong color… can’t be chlorine either… cyanide possibly? I might have to look into that.”
After that slightly disturbing conversation, she had decided to walk around to ease her nerves. Not that walking helped much; the eerie ambience of the house made the occasional loud crashes even more frightening. This omnipresent tension sent her running to the door when the power had gone out.
Thankfully, she managed to avoid running into anything before the lights came back on. In front of her, the door was creaking with the power of the wind and the rain outside. She had briefly considered just running out the door and making a mad dash back to Ponyville, but the weather outside was convincing her otherwise.
The next hour had gone by slowly, with the frightening level of seclusion slowly seeping into her mind. After mere minutes, she saw nonexistent shadows moving across the room. The walls began to close in on her, despite showing no sign of structural weakness. She even thought she had seen a lifeless body through one of the windows.
Panicked, she attempted to focus on anything other than her current situation: feeding Angel, chuckling at Discord’s antics, even her first time on the ground as a filly. Nothing worked. The isolation of the room slowly tore into her until she broke into a cold sweat and bolted out the door.
The moment she stepped outside, the thick curtain of rain blinded her. Desperate, she kept running away from the house, only to trip over a large object in the middle of the porch. She tumbled head over heels to the ground, getting her mane and coat muddy.
She laid on the ground for a few brief moments as she waited for the blood to rush back into her head. She could feel a throbbing pain coming from her left wing, and a nasty gash on her left foreleg was letting out a slow trickle of blood. Shaking off the pain, she turned around to see what she had tripped over.
Her face turned pale with horror at what she saw. On the ground in front of her was the body of Thunderlane, his burnt body letting off wisps of steam as the rain matted what fur he had left intact. His wings and limbs were contorted in impossible positions, and a trail of uprooted grass and dirt formed a trail leading to his disfigured corpse.
Fluttershy let out a scream as she ran back toward the forsaken manor, muddying her already filthy coat. The wind had blown the heavy oak doors shut, locking her outside in the rain. She pulled on the handle with all of her might, but the door stubbornly refused to budge.
Seeing she was trapped outside, she began to look for an alternate route into the house. The upper levels of the house were obscured by the downpour, but she could make out a light coming from one of the windows toward the end of the house. Bracing herself against the wind, she stretched out her wings and flew toward the light.
Despite her injured wing, it took a surprisingly short time to reach the window. The window was closed tightly, and there was a one story drop beneath the ledge, but she perched herself on a nearby tree branch and peered into the window. Between the streaks of water on the window, she could barely make out the outlines of a number of the guests huddling in the center of the room. Leaning in closer, she attempted to listen in on the conversation.
“Look, I don’t think he’s to blame. He didn’t hit the ground that hard.”
“Well then, who did? There’s been at least four deaths tonight, and some of us haven’t been seen in hours. Speaking of which, has anyone seen Fluttershy? I haven’t seen her since just after Cherry died.”
Fluttershy’s ears perked up at the sound of her name. She tried to wave to them, but accidentally fell to the ground in her haste. She landed on the ground with a thud, throwing her already broken wing further out of line. Wincing, she screeched in pain, only to white out seconds later.
*=*=*=*=*=*=*
Filthy Rich sat next to Twilight’s bed. his legs bound to the bedpost by his necktie. It was a mind-numbing experience; Twilight was the only other person in the room, and all she could do was mull over what could have happened to Pinkie Pie.
The princess sat at the desk in the room, fiddling with a device that looked strangely like a crane. “That crate had to have been rigged after I entered the room, or else I would’ve been crushed when I first came in. But how could that have happened? I didn’t hear anybody upstairs, and that crate wasn’t exactly light.” She took a paperweight out of the desk drawer and attached it to the device.
“Twilight, how long are you going to keep thinking this through? It’s been well over an hour, and you still haven’t come any closer to an answer.” Filthy had already told her this earlier in the night, but all that had prompted was a quick trip to the library for her, leaving him alone in the room.Those had been the worst minutes of the night; alone in an empty room with a psychopath on the loose, and absolutely no way to escape should he find himself as the next victim.
“Look, I know I haven’t found any answers, but I’m as desperate here as you are. There are at least two dead ponies in this building, and if I don’t figure this out, one of us might be next. So I’d appreciate some peace and quiet.” Flustered, Twilight attached another weight to the device, causing it to snap in half. The weights collapsed onto desk, sending the rest of the shattered pieces across her half of the room.
Filthy Rich rolled his eyes. Throughout his time chained to the bedpost, he had seen her break two similar devices, cause five explosions by mixing chemicals, and accidentally light one book on fire in frustration. It would honestly be humorous to watch, if he didn’t know exactly what she was trying to do.
Sadly, that was not the case. In his time as the executive of Barnyard Bargains, he had had this happen to him often. She was trying to get inside the mind of her competition, or, rather in her case, her predator. This villain was slowly driving her insane, and he was not enjoying any minute of it.
“You know Twilight, you aren’t going to get any closer to an answer by locking yourself up in this tower.” Curious, Twilight turned to look at him with a quizzical look. “Don’t you see? You aren’t going to get inside their head by merely trying to figure out some master equation to this enigma. You have to observe your competition- er, suspects, find out what makes them tick. Trust me, when you’re a marketing executive, you have to be something of a psychiatrist too.”
Twilight’s face perked up. “You’re a lot smarter than you let on, Filthy. But I figured that a while ago. You were trying to sweet talk Miss Jubilee into a business deal before she died, right?” Filthy nodded, unsure of what she was trying to get at. “I thought so. It’s second nature to a stallion like you to make alliances. But she’s also bound to have enemies. See where I’m getting at?”
It suddenly clicked for him. The answer had been right in front of his face all along. Granny Smith must have planned this all out. It made perfect sense. Both Cherry and Pinkie were competitors to Sweet Apple Acres. It would only make sense for her to get rid of them. “You’re implying it’s Granny Smith?”
“Yes- and no. You see, I concluded that she would be the most likely candidate for killing them. This would make sense if it weren’t for the fact that there is no way she could have lifted that crate by herself.” Twilight picked up a piece of paper from her desk and pointed to a rough sketch of a pony with a question mark. “The only logical way that this could be done is if she had an accomplice. That’s what I’m having trouble with.”
This truly was a puzzle. Surely no one else here would be willing to commit murder? Unless…
His thoughts were interrupted by a large crowd of ponies bursting into the room. Time Turner, who was apparently leading the pack, ran up to Twilight and shook her violently. “Lyra… Granny Smith… Trenderhoof… Thunderlane… all dead… Fluttershy is hurt badly…” He promptly passed out on the ground in front of her.
Twilight ran from the room, leaving Rich tied to his chair. Time Turner led the way, but too slowly. Time Turner was running, but Twilight was doing something closer to pacing at a high speed.
Fluttershy couldn’t be dead. Not another one of her friends.
Finally Time Turner slowed and Twilight barged into the nearest room.
They had laid Fluttershy on a couch, her injured wing held tenderly in Rarity’s hooves. She was looking down with her eyes closed, but looked up hesitantly as Twilight slowed down from her run, staring at Fluttershy.
She could fix this. Her head filled with every healing spell she knew. She processed the damage. Fluttershy’s wing looked fractured and broken in about eight places, and a few bones poked out of bloody holes. She had probably fainted from blood loss.
“Somebody find a medical kit!” Twilight commanded as she stepped forward.
She had to stop the blood loss first. A nearby couch exploded as Twilight shredded it and used the strips of cloth to cover up all the gashes in Fluttershy’s wing. She cast a numbing spell and began to push the bones back into place. They would take time to heal; it couldn’t be done with just a quick spell. While holding the bones in place she picked up a nearby coffee table with her magic and smashed it. She picked up some thinner, longer pieces of wood and held them to Fluttershy’s wing. Cheerily stepped forward with a first aid box she had found, and Rarity pulled out the medical tape and shakily applied it to the wood and Fluttershy’s wing.
The only thing left was the lack of blood flowing in Fluttershy’s veins. Twilight recalled a blood transfusion spell she had been studying, but she had never even practiced it and it was complex. It could be disastrous, but looking at Fluttershy’s pale face told her that there was no other option.
She couldn’t give her own blood because the magic that flowed in it would be too strong for a Pegasus. Bulk Biceps was the only other pegasus left, so it had to be him.
“Biceps, do you feel well and willing enough to donate blood?”
“YEAH!!!” had barely left his lips before Twilight pulled him over and sat him down.
She cleared her mind and concentrated on the spell.
She saw the thick blood running through bulks veins, and then a small section of the blood collecting in a separate space. Then she imagined that blood going over into Fluttershy’s veins. She continued to do little sections of blood like this until it was like a little stream of blood. When Fluttershy’s veins seemed to be a little fuller, she opened her eyes and sat down.
The room seemed to collectively let go of its breath.
Bulk shook a little bit from his blood loss, Rarity seemed a little less sad, and Fluttershy…
The clock began to chime and everyone winced. Thankfully, it was only the quarter hour ringing out by the clock. Everyone relaxed a bit after the chime was over.
Twilight stood up and walked towards Fluttershy and checked all her vitals with a spell. She was pretty exhausted from healing Fluttershy, but this spell was pretty simple.
“Everypony, I think Fluttershy is going to be okay. I’ll stay here and take care of her; I need you to go through the house and look for traps and disable them. Our killer only kills ponies at the top of every hour, so we should be safe for now as long as we don’t do anything stupid.”
Everypony left with a few mumbles about where they should look.
Rarity stayed behind too. She was looking down, stoking Fluttershy’s mane.
“How long will ponies keep dying?” she asked, her voice trembling. She looked up at Twilight, with such what is it… longing?-with such fear in her eyes. But her eyes closed as she focused back on Fluttershy.
Twilight put her hoof on Rarity’s shoulder and tried to say that it will be all right, but she was shaking too much.
“Twilight… you have to stop this. Ponies are dying. By the time its morning…,” Rarity stopped.
“Hey, we’ll get through this. We have to.”
Rarity turned away and stared at the door. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to laugh the same way without Pinkie,” she said.
“Yeah,” Twilight began, “it won’t ever really be the same. We have to move on though. We have to get through tonight.”
“And we have to remember to laugh,” Rarity added reminiscently.
Twilight smiled at the thought of all the good times they’d had. She turned around, but Rarity had gone.
She sat there for a moment, staring at the open door and listening to the faint bangs and clatters of the others searching below.
“T-twilight?”
She heard a faint voice from behind her.
“Fluttershy!” she gasped and turned around.
The yellow mare’s eyes drooped, but other than that she looked alright. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and noticed her broken wing and the exploded furniture around her. "Is everything alright?”
“Yes, yes, we’re just trying to find the murderer and keep anypony else from getting hurt.”
Fluttershy seemed to remember all that had been happening that night. “Shouldn’t you be out there, Twilight?”
“I guess so, but I needed to make sure you were alright.”
Fluttershy tried to get up off the couch,“Well look, I’m fine now. We should go join the others in the search.” She winced in pain.
A part of Twilight wanted to agree, to go on the search and stop the murderer, but another, more scared part, wanted to stay, to protect Fluttershy. To say goodbye to her while she was still here, just in case…
Twilight stepped into a corner of the room, and looked at some flat, faded boxes and pulled one out. “Or, since you’re in no fit state to move, we could play a game...” She set the box down and opened it revealing strange pieces. “Besides I could use some time to organize my thoughts and try to figure things out.”
Twilight read the rules. It was a fairly complicated game, but she explained it to Fluttershy with little difficulty. As they set up the board and began to play, the clock in the corner of the room chimed the half hour. It startled Twilight, but she vowed to keep track of the time.
The game began, and Twilight started going through a list of possible suspects.
She had a new prime suspect had surfaced: Time Turner.
He knew a lot about clocks, and all the deaths so far had seemed to be caused by some kind of mechanism. Not to mention people dying only on the top of the hour, which seemed to correlate with his strange obsession with time. Nobody knew much about him, so his motive could be anything.
Twilight moved up her mage and shot spell words at Fluttershy’s maiden, disabling it from moving for the next five turns.
Of course, that was assuming that the murderer was among them. It could be somepony else controlling everything from outside. It seemed like a little more than just a few machines strung together. It seemed more like whoever was causing the deaths was powerful. And since pinkie had died, maybe it had been an effort to dissipate the elements of harmony. But that wouldn’t explain the other deaths, and most of the larger threats to Equestria had been eliminated already. Although new threats were surfacing all the time.
Twilight wasn’t thinking about the game, and accidentally made a wrong move. She had already set her knight down though, and Fluttershy moved forward her warden taking out Twilight’s nymph and elf.
Twilight froze both her own warden and Fluttershy’s to prepare for her next move, knowing Fluttershy would move forward to protect her warden. Then Twilight could slip behind Fluttershy’s ranks and wreak some havoc.
There was also Bulk Biceps and Cheerilee whose innocence and general dullness could be the perfect cover for a murderer.
“Twilight, I thought of something that could help, since I can’t move around and search.” A few mice scurried up from holes in the walls, and Fluttershy spoke to them for a bit and they scurried off.
“They’ll come back with whatever they can come up with about our mysterious mare.”
Fluttershy made her next move, ending Twilight’s killing streak. Twilight sacrificed her warden to take out Fluttershy’s elf and warden.
The mice came scurrying back with pieces of paper in their mouths.
Twilight spread the pieces of paper out on the floor examining them. There was an invitation for Golden Harvest, some sort of label for eye cream and a blank page that looked like it had been torn out of a book. The page reeked of dark magic though. And it was a familiar kind of magic. Images flashed in her head of Sombra’s door and Trixie’s amulet. Was that what it was?
Just then Time Turner knocked on the door. “Twilight, we found something interesting. Could you come take a look? We can’t get the door open.”
Twilight looked over at Fluttershy. “I’ll be back in just a minute, okay?”
Fluttershy nodded and Twilight ran out the door.
Time turner led her to some kind of closet door, but inside she could sense strong dark magic.
Twilight performed a simple door unlocking spell, and swung the door open. She felt the dark magic within intensify, and at first only saw darkness. Until the contents began to chime. She had missed the third chime. Twilight was already thinking about the three ponies that weren't there: Filthy Rich, Rarity and Fluttershy.
There was an explosion that shook the entire mansion.
She knew one of them was dead.
And she hoped it was Filthy, although she chided herself as she thought it.
The whole crowd screamed in fear, all of them already on high alert and not at all expecting an explosion of all things.
Twilight yelled, “Did anyone have an idea where that came from, or were we all too busy screaming?”
The whole group looked away respectively all blushing in different directions, even Twilight did so respectively, save for Time Turner, who suggested that they all needed to find the source.
He pointed to Cheerilee. “I'll go with her. Twilight, you take Bulk Biceps and search the lower floors while we check upstairs.”
Cheerilee nearly lost it. Time Turner was at the top of her suspect list, and she preferred not to be stuck with a potential killer. “I don’t wanna go with him! I want to go with you two.”
Time Turner responded, "Look. I know I may not be your first pick for a partner, but we have to stick to groups. Safety in numbers."
Cheerilee slank back like one of her foals. “Sorry. I'm just a bit shaken up right now. You understand, right?”
She tried to smile and hide her bits of rose red blush she may or may not have had. Time Turner waved off to Twilight and Bulk as they headed down the hall. Cheerilee marched off with Time Turner, trying ever so hard to get his “being” the murderer off her own mind so she spoke.
“So, you wandered into Ponyville?” She smiled over at him, trying to make simple conversation.
“Well,... I guess I did. I don’t know how I arrived there specifically, I simply walked into the city, and there were no walls to restrict my entrance so I just walked in, possibly from the east.” He gave her a slight puzzled look as he stared around the darkening halls. “It is night-time, Miss Cheerilee.”
She looked over to him then back to the dark halls of the once well lit mansion. “I hope the others are okay. Maybe they'll have better luck finding something.”
They walked along the corridor, finding few things of interest, other than bits of drywall on the floor. They stopped at a fairly large pile and looked up.
“There is your cosmetic crack,but where is the source?” Time looked around suspiciously, walking down the hall. The half-hour chimes rang through the hall, scaring Time into Cheerilee's hooves. They stood there for a few moments, petrified.
“Um,... feel free to let go at any time.” He backed off from her awkwardly. They continued down the hall, avoiding each others awkward gazes.
Time Turner stopped in his tracks. “Miss Cheerilee, have you noticed that Rarity, Filthy, and Fluttershy are all missing? Now, I'm no genius but I am going to say, Filthy wasn’t at the closet with us due to his restraint by Twilight.”
Cheerilee looked at him, confused. “Yes? So?”
He sighed, agitated by his partner’s incompetence. “So, he couldn’t have destroyed anything, but it also means he could have been dispatched alone long ago by our killer.” He went quickly back into his thinking state.
Something clicked in Cheerilee's mind. “So if he's still alive, we could still find him?” She smiled triumphantly at her conclusion.
“Yes, theoretically we could. As I said, he could already be long dead with the others, but if he couldn’t have done it and COULD be dead, then he isn’t our killer!” Time smiled, able to narrow his list of suspects even further. So with Fluttershy incapable of magic and Bulk seemingly incapable of anything at all, concluded it must be either Twilight or Rarity. The only two unicorns left in the mansion and the only ones capable of magic as strong and or as dark as they were seeing here.
“What are you thinking about, Time?” She looked to him as they walked up the stairs to another floor, this one a bit more burnt out and at the end of the hall stood a large pile of rubble blocking entrance to the dusty haven that was formerly the attic.
“Oh my.” He paused, staring at the wreckage. “I was narrowing down my suspects, but respectfully, you can’t be the culprit due to the magic that would be needed.” He looked over to her giving out a soft smile.
She smiled a bit more trustingly at her partner. “Likewise to you, Time.”
They both marched quickly to the rubble that laid before them and what they found there surprised them very much. Amongst the rubble were flaming dresses and fabrics... they had no doubt found Rarity’s room. The doorway was impasable, but they could see that the whole room was burning, all the fabrics burned to the ground and the bed was being roasted.
Time instantly threw his theory out. “Twilight! Why hadn’t I seen it before, that giddy little alicorn, all that magic in her, who’s to say she doesn’t hide darkness in her.” He angrily kicked a pile of rocks, knocking loose a lightly singed note reading, “Sweetie Belle, I love you.” There may have been more to it, but the rest of the note was charred beyond repair.
“Poor Rarity. Time, what was on the note?” She curiously stared at him.
“Sweetie Belle, I love you, why?” He looked back as he heard a gasp from Cheerilee. She had fallen to the ground, sobbing.
“Why so sad? Is that important?” He looked at her curiously.
“Sweetie is her sister, her little sister!” Cheerilee grimly thought about Sweetie’s reaction to her death. For that matter, what would her students think when they heard of her death?
“What I can’t connect is why. Why drag all of us to this place, what is her motive in all of this, what could Twilight gain from killing us all?” He turned to Cheerilee, who was unable to provide an answer. “She's a princess, what could she possibly gain from this?”
“Well don’t ask me, you’re the one with the plan here!” She stopped in her tracks, struck by a revelation. “Wait Time, you said Twilight was the killer. Bulk is with the killer!”
Time looked back in horror. “I didn't think of that.” they heard loud sobbing from downstairs. Time rushed back down the hall and slid down the banister to the first story. Cheerilee followed pursuit, chasing him to the library, where they were met with an interesting scene. Twilight was huddled in a fetal position, clutching a burning book close to her chest. Bulk was standing off to the side, unsure of what to do.
“Oh m-my, are you okay, Twilight?” Cheerilee flocked to her side.
Time stood off to the side, coolly analyzing the situation. “Drop the act, Twilight. I know what you're hiding. You know exactly what I'm talking about, murderer.” Twilight looked up at him with tears streaming down her face as she held up a book from the smoldering library which, like Rarity’s room, was engulfed in flames.
“I-I... I didn't do this!” She softly rocked back and forth on the ground, as she did none of them seemed to notice the time slowly ticking on and Buff scratching at his own coat.
Cheerilee tried to non-violently pitch in. “Why are we fighting over who is doing this? We've already made the mistake of arguing over analyzing our options and or suspects.”
“No Miss Cheerilee, I don’t trust this princess. Why is she holding a book?” He pulled it away only to see it was a scrapbook of her friends and family, most of which are now long dead or recently for a few.
“F-Fluttershy was in there, she too is gone like the rest, we won’t make it till morning.” Twilight cringed as the clocked chimed in again. They all held their breaths were heard and the fire cast light into room as it was thrust into power loss, after a minute they all sighed as they were all accounted for.
“WHAT MR KILLER TOO SCARED TO FIGHT US BY THE LIGHT OF THE FIRE!” Time screamed into the dark void.
“Time, stop it! You’re not part of the solution so you’re part of the problem!” said Cheerilee. "Just because we survived another hour together...” She stopped as she she saw Bulk Biceps, his body all puffy and pulsing hard. He laid before them choking and wheezing on his own neck swelling hard and closing, they watched in fear unable to do anything to help as he just died before them. They sat many a minutes trying to piece together his death, then Time spotted the missing piece to his expiration.
A small bottle laid in his swollen hoof, as Time suspected another bottle of pills laid in his room, this bottle did not match the original, he went into allergic shock and had swollen, the killer hadn’t missed a second too early...
Twilight stared at Bulk Biceps’ bloated body in shock and horror, unsure of where to look. He stared up at the ceiling as the library crackled and popped as the flames continued to burn.
“Twilight?”
The purple alicorn turned to Time Turner slowly, almost catatonic.
“Are you alright?” Twilight didn’t look too good; her face was green and pale, and her eyes looked like they were about to pop out.
“Twilight?” Cheerilee took a step forward.
The lights flickered on, but no pony paid them any attention.
“Oh Celestia, I-I can’t!” Twilight cried.
“You can’t what?” Turner took a nervous step back.
Twilight fled the room without answering, galloping as fast as her hooves could take her down the hallway to her room, leaving behind a confused Time Turner and an empathetic Cheerilee.
“Twilight!”
Nonononononono was all that ran through Twilight’s head as she slammed the door to her room shut. She rested her head against the cool door, trying not to let panic overtake her again.
“I was wondering when you would be back!”
Twilight jumped, jabbing her horn into the door. “Ouch! Oh, Filthy Rich. I forgot you were in here.” After painfully releasing her horn, she turned around to see a rather crazed Filthy. “Filthy Rich?”
“The shadows, they’re comin’! They were here before! They might’ve gotten me if the lights hadn’t turned back on! PRAISE CELESTIA!” Filthy screamed.
“No, they’re not,” Twilight said, wincing at his outburst. Her sensible side was coming back, and with it, her deduction abilities. “What is “comin’” is another death. Now,” she began, slipping into lecture mode, “we know that every murder takes place on the hour.”
Filthy’s eyes darted back and forth.” The shadows! The shadows kill!”
“Would you stop going on about the shadows! There’s plenty of light in here! Anyway, none of the murders appear to involve magic, but that doesn’t necessarily rule out anypony.”
“Light! Light!”
Twilight ignored him and began pacing. “Nopony here has a grudge on anypony else, and you’re the only one with an actual motive that’s plausible, if slightly. We could rule out a couple of the deaths as accidents or coincidences, but considering all that has occurred, it would be best not to assume.”
“Let me go!” Filthy tried to bite the rope that bound him to his chair, desperately struggling at his bonds. “They’ll kill me if you don’t!”
“Maybe I should go check Bulk Biceps’ room just in case,” Twilight mumbled, using her magic to untie Filthy Rich, who raced toward the lamp. Twilight rolled her eyes and was about to put the rope on the dresser when she spotted something stuck on it -- a single strand of hair.
Plucking it from the rope’s fibers, Twilight brought it close to her face. It looked to be purplish, maybe even pink, but it was hard to tell since it was just one.
Who has a purple or pink mane...well, there’s me--which makes sense, since this is my room -- Rarity, Cheerilee, Bon Bon--no, she wasn’t here. Twilight squinted at the strand. I would consider Cherry Jubilee, but she never entered my room. Then there’s-- Twilight squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, Celestia, why is this happening to us?!
“It’s getting darker!”
Twilight opened her eyes. “No, it’s not, Filthy.”
“Yes, it is!” It didn’t help that Filthy was practically hugging the lamp. He kept glancing toward what Twilight had assumed to be a closet door.
“Maybe if you’d--”
Somepony knocked at her door.
Twilight continued to levitate the hair as she took a few steps toward the door, an eyebrow quirked in confusion and her wings flared in alarm. “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” came Cheerilee’s voice through the door.
Twilight relaxed, her wings folding against her sides. “Coming!” Taking one last glance behind her, Twilight opened the door and re-entered the hallway.
“Don’t leave me!” Filthy screamed as the door latched.
Cheerilee smiled at Twilight. “Are you doing okay, dear?”
“Somewhat.” Twilight shuffled her wings. “Th-the stains…P-P...”
“I know, Twilight.” Cheerilee’s eyes glistened. Seeing the other mare on the verge of crying coaxed Twilight’s own tears into her eyes. She dropped the strand of hair, completely forgetting about it.
A breeze blew through the hallway, chilling the ponies and fluttering the banners. The hair was blown away into an air vent. Twilight didn’t notice.
“Where’s Time Turner?” Twilight asked, wrapping her wings around herself as best as she could.
“He was with Bulk Biceps when I left him,” Cheerilee said. “It’s a shame that such a talented athlete was murdered.”
Twilight was about to respond when Time Turner called out, “Hey, guys!”
She whipped her head around, thinking she would see Turner, but no one was there. “Time Turner?”
“Come here! I think I found something!”
Something was off about his voice; was it the direction? The pitch? Had something frightened him?
Who knows in this place, Twilight thought, but followed the sound anyway, Cheerilee trailing behind.
“Hurry!”
Twilight turned the corner, only to see nopony.
Her brow furrowed. “Well that can’t be right.”
“What can’t be right?”
Twilight jumped ten feet straight up (somewhat literally) at Time Turner’s voice directly behind her. “Gah! What?” She looked at Turner, then back the direction his voice had been coming from. Cheerilee looked just as confused as she did. “But if you’re here, then how--”
A scream pierced the quiet.
Twilight’s pupils shrunk. “Filthy Rich.”
“What does he have to do with anything?”
For the second time in nearly an hour, Twilight raced off without answering Turner, who took a few moments before following her with Cheerilee.
Twilight skid to a stop in front of her bedroom door. Filthy was pounding on it inside the room. “Somepony, help! The shadows are going to get me! THE SHADOWS!”
Almost as if on cue, the lights shut off. A few bulbs popped in the hallway, and when Twilight opened her door, the lamp bulb popped and went out.
Filthy fell face-first. He started to scramble to his hooves when something pulled at his back hoof, toppling him. “THE SHADOW!”
It is the shadows. Twilight stood in shock for only a second before lighting her horn, but she was too slow.
The shadows dragged Filthy to the only other door in her room, which she assumed led to the closet. The shadows didn’t abate and even pulled faster as Filthy tried more and more fervently to grab a hold of something, screaming, “HELP ME!”
And as the clock struck three, Filthy Rich disappeared into the shadows, leaving only his screams of terror behind.
There was nothing they could do for Filthy Rich. They tried to open the door, but it was sealed. Not even Twilight was able to have any effect. It was like some ward was preventing her magic from opening the door or teleporting past it.
After the screams had stopped and their initial panic and horror had abated, Time Turner sat with Cheerilee and Twilight Sparkle in the hallway outside Twilight's room for what could have been a few minutes or half an hour. They could scarcely believe what they'd seen. Time Turner was the first to speak. "I think we should stick together now."
Cheerilee glanced at Twilight. "Is that… do you think that's a good idea? One of us has to be the killer, don't they? I'm not sure I'm comfortable being in the same room with a killer."
Twilight shrugged. "So we should all go to our rooms then, is that agreed?"
Time Turner shook his head. "If one of you is the killer, I'm not sure I want to let you out of my sight."
"But you could be the killer," Twilight pointed out.
"Or none of us is, and there's another pony in this house that none of us has seen yet. Some pony intimately familiar with this house's secrets," Time Turner suggested.
Cheerilee stood up. "Well, you can sit here and debate this all you like. You can't stop me going to my room." She turned and trotted down the hallway. Time Turner and Twilight heard a door slam and a key turn in a lock.
Time Turner sighed and looked at Twilight. It seemed splitting up was the group's decision, but he certainly wasn't going to lock himself into his room and wait for the killer.
Lyra's death, by the account that Rarity and Trenderhoof had given, pointed to the killer having found another route to get into and out of that room undetected. Certain hints in how Rarity and Fluttershy had been killed too indicated that the killer was using ways of getting about that they didn't know of. But what sealed the deal was Filthy Rich's manner of demise.
"Would you like me to stay here with you?" Time Turner asked.
Twilight looked at him sternly. "I think I'd feel more comfortable if you left."
He couldn't understand how she could feel comfortable being left alone in that room — the room that Filthy Rich had been dragged away from — but then again, she was a powerful alicorn and not a simple earth pony like him.
Eager to get out of the room, and to explore his new theory about secret passageways in the house, he nodded and left her. He saw the door close behind him and heard the turn of a key in the lock.
Time Turner hurried to Rarity's room. Although the fires had been put out now, the room had been badly damaged. There seemed to be a slight chance that this might have exposed any hidden doors which the room was concealing. It was a long shot, but it was worth a try. Entering the room, his hoof went to his mouth to block out the still acrid taste of the air. His eyes took in the room, exploring the charred, peeling wallpaper for signs of a secret doorway, but none could be seen. He glanced up at the ceiling. The paint was cracked, blistered, and blackened in places from the heat, but there didn't seem to be any removable panels.
He reluctantly removed his hoof from his lips and used it to tap on the floor, pacing up and down the room systematically, trying to find a trap door, but to no avail.
Time Turner sighed. He'd known that the search would probably prove fruitless, but he was disappointed nevertheless.
Just as he was about to turn and leave, he felt a gentle breeze cause his tail hair to sway. He looked around for where this draught could have come from. The windows seemed undamaged by the fire. The breeze seemed to be coming from a large, ornate wardrobe.
Time Turner flung the doors open, expecting to find a false back, but was confronted by an empty wardrobe with a rather standard-looking wooden back. He prodded the back of the wardrobe, finding it to be of fairly solid construction.
Preparing to leave again, he had one last idea. He reared up onto his hind legs and pushed the wardrobe sideways. Though empty, the wardrobe was built of a solid, hard wood, and still weighed a considerable amount. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he stood back and was relieved to see that his effort had paid off: there was a hole in the wall behind the wardrobe — not a big hole, but looked like it would be big enough for a pony to squeeze through.
So Time Turner did. He found himself in a dimly-lit passageway, the walls emitting a strange, perhaps magical, glow that he'd never seen before. Once through the small hole in the wall, the passage was a more comfortable width for trotting along.
He soon found himself at a fork in the passage. Not knowing which way to go, he chose the left branch at random. He hoped that this didn't turn out to be some kind of maze.
After a short distance, the passage began to slope downwards. By the time he'd reached the next corner, he reckoned he'd descended far enough that he might be underground, at some kind of basement level. Peering around the corner, he saw that the passage opened into a small room, lit by a small oil lamp.
He cautiously entered the room. By the light of the lamp, he could see that the ceiling was adorned with electric light bulbs.
He flicked the switch near the entrance, expecting the lights to turn on, but instead a sliding door engaged, cutting the room off from from the corridor. He tried to use a hoof to stop the door from fully closing, but it was too fast. He was trapped.
After flicking the switch the other way had failed, he banged on the stone door with his hoof, but it seemed solid. Time Turner sighed. "Hello?!" he called. "Can anypony hear me?!" The only response he got was the echo of his own voice. Frustrated, he decided that if he couldn't get out for now, he could at least investigate the room.
Picking up the oil lamp in his teeth, he trotted over to a desk in the corner. The desk was covered in pieces of paper. There was a telephone on the edge of the desk, but Time Turner recalled that the phone lines to the house seemed to have been cut.
He flicked through some receipts from an establishment called 'Uncle Curio's House of Magic' in Canterlot, but they only listed prices, not descriptions of the items that had been bought.
Underneath those he found something rather more menacing. It looked like a blue print for the device that had claimed Pinkie Pie's life, detailing the intricate system of wires and pulleys that had been rigged up in Twilight Sparkle's doorway. If he'd previously had any doubt that the killer had been using these tunnels, he had none now.
There were also instructions for making some kind of explosive device, wiring schematics for the house, and a receipt for a shipment of sand. He chuckled to himself — somepony seemed to have paid an unbelievable number of bits to fill their sandpit.
Glancing over the wiring diagram in the hope he'd find some way of opening the door, or at least switching on the ceiling lights, he noticed something else. The basement seemed to have a second telephone line. Time Turner immediately grabbed at the phone with a hoof, putting it to his ear. To his surprise and relief, he heard a dial tone. He quickly called the number for the emergency services.
After a couple of rings a female voice came onto the line. "Equestria Emergencies, how can I help you?"
"There's… there's been a murder! More than one, in fact!"
"So you'll need the royal guard?"
"Yes! Yes! And hurry, please!" he implored.
"And you're down in the basement?" came the voice.
"Yes, I'm—" Time Turner paused. How would they know that? He answered cautiously. "Yes… I'm… down in the basement…?"
"Good."
The phone went dead.
Time Turner tapped the phone and held it to his ear again. Nothing.
He heard a whirring sound from above and looked up. All the light bulbs in the ceiling fell out of their recesses, making a clattering sound on the stone floor, and sand started to pour out of the holes they'd occupied. Time Turner suddenly realized why somebody had bought so much sand.
He did a quick mental calculation based on the flow rate of the sand and the approximate size of the room. He estimated that it would be five minutes before the room was full. Practically speaking, he had about three minutes to escape before the sand would be so high it would make movement, and thus escape, impractical.
"Help!" he yelled, barging against the door as hard as he could. In his heart, he knew it was futile: Cheerilee and Twilight's rooms were at the other end of the house, and the basement walls seemed like solid stone.
In under a minute the sand was up to his fetlocks, making run-ups to the door slow, so he resorted to pounding on the door with his front hooves, climbing up the growing pile of sand, trying to avoid sinking into it.
After a further two minutes, the desk, telephone, and most of the door were buried. Time Turner gave up trying to force the door, and resorted to climbing up the ever rising sand, yelling for help through the crack at the top of the door.
Soon his head was against the ceiling and he could climb no more. As the sand covered his cutie mark, he found himself almost laughing at the irony. The room was like the lower chamber of a giant hourglass.
He felt the sand inching up his neck, creeping around his jaw. He closed his mouth and breathed through his nose for as long at it was possible. As the sand neared his eyes, he shut them and released his last breath. Before the sand covered his ears, he heard the sound of a distant clock chiming.
Many emotions were running through her now, and by all accounts, they should have overtaken her. Anger, confusion, suspicion, and sadness were among the most easily spotted; yet, another could be felt creeping coldly from her hooves to her heart. And perhaps this was for the better.
Twilight was beginning to feel overwhelmingly numb. She hadn’t experienced death beforehand, and so much of it at once should’ve shattered her immediately. But it didn’t.
Mother of the Sun, how can this be happening… it was a question punctuated by many different phrases which reappeared in her mind, but nonetheless, it was all cut down to one simple bunch of words: why, how, and who.
Her hooves had begun to dig an upturned rutt of thin carpet in a trail, one she was treading steadily and robotically. The sound of the wind and creaky, simmering wood being shifted from the charred pit of the library disinterred her from this small track, however.
Her ears pricked, and she leaned toward the source of the sound. Hoofsteps, quiet and sneaky, echoed away in sharp little waves of sound. Curiosity fizzled within her mind, mixed equally with suspicion. Time Turner was the one walking about… what in the name of Celestia was he doing?
Twilight, her coat prickling with distrust, began a stern trek through the hallways to look for the earth pony. Darkness enveloped her, and through the black sheet, she could make out the faint outlines on a rather large painting. One she was unsure had been there before; she supposed it had, though. Getting caught up in an ordeal like this was quite the excuse for not being quite as observant… or was it?
Her horn lit in a faint magenta glow, the very center a pale white, and she again took down the empty chamber; as it turns out, the painting was of an animal, one she didn’t know of. One with a mournful expression, its eyes wispy and white, thin black fur spiking in patches across its dissipated body as its fangs shone in a deep howl. Unsettled, she ruffled her wings. Maybe I should have asked somepony to stay with me… but then again, who could I trust?
She shook her head, the trim bangs of indigo and raspberry pink layering in front of her eyes before settling back. Ignoring her nagging inner voice, Twilight reached a turn. She attempted to remember where she was, and oriented herself toward the library.
Urges to call out battled with urges to remain as quiet as possible. The scent of acrid, withering smoke brushed into her nose, and she extended a wing to cover it. Her primaries lessened the strong smell, but didn’t do away with it completely.
Jagged edges littered the floor and ceiling, and the alicorn peered inside. She ceased her internal fighting and whispered out, “Time? Time, where are you?”
Only the occasional creak and the smell of charred wood dignified her with a response. Scanning the remains of the room briefly, the alicorn observed only expected things to be found inside: burnt books, burnt flooring, burnt ceiling, burnt everything. A chill ran up her spine, perhaps the feeling of just being alone at the time, and she withdrew quickly from the library.
“What now…” she murmured, returning to the hallway. Her violet eyes dissected the area around her, and Twilight moved along the long, thin chamber.
Her hooves gave way to rhythmic tapping, something she could almost consider relaxing. But it also dredged up the awful screaming and the clatter of Filthy Rich’s own hooves against the floor as the shadows engulfed him like a python.
Twilight’s memory failed to pinpoint a shape, a sound, or even a smell that could possibly give her a clue. Just deep black, swift and efficient at its one purpose in life.
A loud clatter echoed in a cacophony of vicious knocking and startled her, and the light spell vanished as her wings forced her body into the air. A chandelier chinked indignantly as it was forced aside by one of her flanks, only adding to the noise. The alicorn hovered, eyes darting back and forth as she turned and attempted to find the source of the original clatter.
“Time? Cheerilee?”
No answer, and she cautiously lowered herself to the floor. Nervously, her light spell reiterated and her head down, Twilight tread further past windows, rooms, and the occasional table. Rounding another corner, she couldn’t help but yell in surprise as one of her front hooves was struck across by a hard bump. Tumbling forward, her teeth knocked painfully together as her chin was forced closed by a wooden platform. Her body sprawled awkwardly, and her strained joints yelped in pain.
Quickly, the alicorn shot back up, scrambling against the thin carpet and onto wood. Her spell relit, and she discovered that a fold-down staircase had sinisterly tripped her up. It led to a dark mouth in the roof of the house, smelling of dust and sounding empty.
What in the name of- Twilight restrained herself to internal yelping. She loomed at the base, wondering whether or not to follow it up. Eventually, she did.
Not using the stairs themselves, Twilight clumsily hovered upward, sneaking weary glances about the attic she was entering. Nothing was to the immediate right or left of her as she entered, but she could see faint outlines of the floorboards, and perhaps some insulation.
Landing as softly as equine-ly possible, the princess swept her head around, listening for anypony other than hear. A slight click, almost like a very young foal stepping across cobblestones could be heard, but she wrote that hurriedly off as the gigantic house settling.
Stay calm… be ready to fight… you’re an idiot for even considering coming up those stairs.
Passing by unpopulated feet of flooring, she soon came upon boxes labeled with the standard ‘this end up’ or ‘antique’. What appeared to be a large mirror was covered by a dusty, moth-hole riddled sheet.
Her hoof struck a slab of thick metal, and she jumped back. Her heart raced, and Twilight shone her spell to find that it was a hatch. She cautiously lifted it, and found herself to be looking down at a large crate. Red liquid still seeped from underneath, and small pink curls obstructed them.
Almost letting out a cry, she let it clap closed. All was silent, but now tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. Please… please, Celestia, not now.
Steadying her nerves, which were again beginning to scream at all of the emotions swirling in the back of her mind. Twilight forced herself to keep moving, her wings tucked tightly at her side.
They didn’t remain there; a brash thud could be heard, similar to the noise that her own closing hatch had just made. Confusion washed over her again, then it was frozen by a scream of horror and pain. Another thud, more meaty this time.
Her brain seemed to work faster than she thought it did, because Twilight found herself charging haphazardly down the dark, dusty tunnel of the attic. It was choking her, and she had to help whoever just screamed. Perhaps she’d be able to catch the killer.
Twilight’s hoof clanged against another hatch, and she skidded to a halt. She listened; from beneath it she heard wet, sticky choking sounds, and the weakening flailing of somepony. Her magic clutched at the door, much heavier this time. Was it locked?
Once lifted a small increment, the alicorn found that it was long locked, it was attached to a brass ceiling lamp. Her muscles, though seemingly not doing any work of their own, began to ache. “I’m coming!” She managed to choke out. Just a little father and the hatch would be lifted, and perhaps the killer would still be there.
With a loud moan, the hinges stretched backwards, and the ceiling hatch was open. Beneath her, a hoof pressed to a grisly wound and choking in her own blood, laid Cheerilee. Raw panic struck her heart and the alicorn dove down.
Cheerilee’s eyes widened in surprise, and glanced between Twilight and the far wall. Her fur was sticky with her own fresh blood, still warm and gushing from her wound. It was ragged and sloppy looking, as if the one who inflicted it had heard Twilight coming and had missed and jerked away. Her purple hoof was trying to press down on the wound for her.
“H-hold on, Miss Cheerilee, I can fix you just relax.”
Tears burned her eyelids and she forced them back, still trying to remember a healing spell. Even then, most healing spells require ingredients and not just the magic to bibbidi-bobbidi-boo up the cure, and for a gash, no less.
Cheerilee, looking paler by the second, managed to choke out a sloppy, half-hearted scream. “B-b-b…”
“Cheerilee, please!” Twilight screamed, her mind going blank as she resorted to applying as much pressure as she could.
“B-behind you-ouh.” the school teacher spat, her breathing slowing and her eyes wet with agony.
Soft hoofsteps crept along, and Twilight, blood drying on her hooves, felt a cold snort of judgement on her wings.
Twilight snapped around, blasting a series of powerful bolts into the darkness. They tore through the wall, revealing the torrential downpour outside. Lighting up the hallway, she saw crumbling plaster and smoldering wallpaper, but no sign of life.
“Darling, that simply won’t do any good. Perhaps next time you should aim before you shoot?” She turned to the source of the voice and fired another volley. Cheerilee winced as more plaster fell from the ceiling onto her.
A cold rush of wind went past her back. Instead of firing this time, she turned around and scanned the area around her. A strong trace of magic emanated from the attic above her. There was a certain level of familiarity to it…
She walked over to Cheerilee and kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t worry. We’re both going to get through this. Just hang on for a few more minutes. It’s time for me to end this once and for all.” With a look of grim determination, she lit up her horn and climbed the attic stairs into the inky darkness.
The attic door snapped shut behind her. A massive rush a magic blew through her head, extinguishing her horn and plunging the room into oblivion. The blast had the same trace as before, all but confirming that she was up here with the killer. She reignited her horn and illuminated the room.
The place had changed significantly in the few minutes she had been downstairs. Instead of crates and boxes, mannequins decorated the floor. She went up to the nearest one and gasped. Bits of bone protruded from pink fur, with blood and sprinkles dotting the coat.
Startled, she backed into another mannequin. This one was completely singed, with a barely recognizable white mohawk on top of its head. Two painfully bent wings rested at its sides, covering up a lightning bolt cutie mark. Twilight scurried away from it only to run into another terribly familiar face.
No matter where she ran, she kept running into the mannequins, each shaped like one of the victims. Lyra, Granny Smith, Trenderhoof, they were all there. Eleven grotesque forms, trapping her in a horrific version of a wax museum.
Slowing down her breathing, she quickly recounted the bodies. Cherry Jubilee? Present, with a coat of yellow dust covering her swollen face. She continued around the room, taking in each grisly reminder of the night.
She reached the last few ponies, the memories of their deaths particularly fresh in her memory. The crispy remains of Fluttershy and Rarity, the swollen mass of Bulk Biceps, the surprisingly intact body of a fear-frozen Filthy Rich.
The last one was somewhat of a surprise to her. Time Turner’s frame was covered from head to hoof in sand. If this meant what she thought it did, then she and Cheerilee were the only ones left beside the murderer. She could almost hear him whisper in her ear, “You could have stopped this, Twilight. You could have saved them all.”
She tilted her head. That wasn’t just her imagination, it had actually whispered in her ear. She backed away from it, panicking as Time Turner dismounted his stand started walking towards her in a zombie-like fashion. All around her, the others were acting similarly. Twilight noted that this was unusually surreal, even after what had happened tonight.
She fired a bolt of magic in the direction of Cherry Jubilee. It blasted a hole through her torso, igniting the insulation in the ceiling behind her. The mannequin kept on plodding toward her, unfazed by the gap in her body.
She fired another bolt, this time towards Filthy Rich. His head was torn off by the force of the blast, but it simply rolled on the ground behind him while his body ambled along.
Think, Twilight, think! These things obviously aren’t being stopped by my magic. What should I do? The horde of mannequins was slowly closing in on her, whispering barely audible accusations. Meanwhile, the burning insulation had turned into an inferno, and was encroaching upon the limited space available. A few stray flames were licking the tails of the ponies in the back, melting them like wax.
That’s it! These aren’t the real zombies, they’re just mildly disturbing wax copies! That explains why that weren’t affected by my magic. All I need to do is force them into those flames. She gritted her teeth and stared down the approaching horde.
The moment the first one was in range, she whirled around and bucked it into the blaze. Engulfed in flames, Time Turner quickly turned into a mud brown puddle on the floor. Bulk Biceps and Thunderlane grabbed her legs, but were made quick work of when she spun around tossed them into the fire.
They continued to fall to the flames one by one. She bucked, spun and blasted them into the ever-growing inferno behind them. Their numbers slowly dwindled until it was down to just her and the Rarity mannequin. She bucked at her face, only to be met with singed hooves. “Did you really think it would be that easy, darling?”
Caught off guard, she put up a shield spell just as Rarity fired a powerful bolt at her. The shield fell, strained under the intensity of the blast. She ducked behind some crates and fired back. They came within inches of her before being dissipated by a previously unseen shield. Flames licked Rarity’s heels as she marched toward Twilight.
“Give up, Twilight! You don’t stand a chance against me when I have the power of the Inspiration Manifestation! How else do you think that I could have done all this? Never have I felt so powerful in all my life!” Her eyes were glowing green, casting an emerald hue across the room. Twilight noticed that she was carrying a book in her saddlebag, glowing the same hue as her eyes.
Twilight felt time practically stop as she assessed her situation. Come on, nitwit! You’ve stalemated Tirek in a fight before. Granted, it was with the combined power of all the alicorns in Equestria, but you can think you’re way out of this. All we have to do is get rid of her powers and it’ll be over quickly. Just have to get that book...
Twilight lunged at Rarity, knocking her saddlebag into the flames. Rarity let out a cry as the cover slowly eaten away. Trails of magic seeped out from the burning pages, breaking the already burning roofs supports above them. A burning beam collapsed next to them, singing their manes.
Twilight blasted the beam away. “Rarity, we have to get out of here, now!” She had collapsed in tears on the floor, unwilling to budge.
“Just go without me, Twilight! Don’t you know what I’ve done?”
“I could never forgive myself if I let another one of my friends die!” She pushed her toward the attic door, which had fallen open in the chaos. Through the smoke and flames, she could make out the body of Cheerilee. She had forgotten all about her in this mess, and her negligence probably killed her. Just another pony to add to her guilty conscience.
Another beam fell to the floor, knocking them both through the opening in the floor. They landed next to Cheerilee, surrounded by piles of burning rubble. She wasn’t moving, but Twilight put an ear to her muzzle and heard the welcome sound of light breathing. So she wasn’t really dead, but if they didn’t make it out of there soon, they all would be.
Rarity had been knocked unconscious during the fall, and had a large bruise on her forehead. Twilight herself had some nasty burns on her body, so carrying two fully grown mares out wasn’t really an options. The fire had managed to spread to the rest of the house as well, so even getting out herself was unreasonable. They were trapped, destined to join the rest of their comrades in death.
Mustering what little power she had left, she did the only thing that she thought could save them: summon a shield spell. A transparent bubble formed around them, falling with them as the house collapsed around them.
The last thing she saw before blacking out was the sunrise poking in above the smoking horizon.
