Kanterlot Killers

by Plaidface

First published

Octavia Melody is an accomplished cellist, but an even more talented hitpony.

Though a levelheaded pony, Octavia Melody would have to admit her life is on the up and up. She's moved to her dream city with her college friend Vinyl Scratch, and her ambitions of joining the prestigious Canterlot Philharmonic is finally a reality. But more importantly, Octavia has found an outlet for her darker passion; one that doesn't involve a cello. When not rehearsing, she stalks the streets of Canterlot as a deadly hitpony.

She occasionally wonders who she's working for. Then again, it's best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Chapter 1

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Octavia navigated her way through the busy atrium of Canterlot’s Union Station. Overdressed unicorns rushed past her as they undoubtedly made their way back to their cushy ministry jobs after a lunch outing worth her entire monthly grocery budget.

It didn’t really bother her though. Afterall, she finally landed a coveted place in the Canterlot Philharmonic. Sure she only took part in their rehearsals but she knew it was only a matter of time before First Cellist was hers. Then she could finally buy one of those fancy big hats, and maybe eat something other than hay ramen once in awhile.

In the meantime she had her roommate, Vinyl Scratch, to keep her driving forward. Though their musical tastes were utterly disparate, living with another struggling artist eased the burden. Whatever obstacle or problem, Octavia knew she could confide anything to her friend...well almost anything.

Octavia’s heart danced with anticipation as she climbed down the last few steps to the coin locker. She hadn’t found anything in the locker in nearly two months.

“Was today the day?” she wondered as she inserted her orange key.

The little locker was placed higher than her face, forcing her to stand on tippy toes and fish through the darkness with a hoof. She bit her lip to contain a smile when her hoof found what it was looking for. She pulled out an unmarked white envelope and eagerly shoved it in her satchel. She couldn’t help a skip in her step as she briskly trotted out of the train station.


Octavia sat down with her french pressed coffee at a nearby bistro. Despite her budget, coffee was one thing she couldn’t skimp on. The rich aroma and thick caffeine was the essence of her creative energy, and the panacea to the giddy excitement that came with any new contract.

She took one more sip to calm herself as she pulled out the white envelope. She surreptitiously looked over her shoulders just in case, although hardly anypony occupied the quaint little store. With a deep breath Octavia opened the envelope like a teen would a letter from a prospective university.

As always, it was just a single sheet of paper with two lines printed in the middle.

Highbrow
NE 4th Avenue Harborview Room 361

Octavia frowned, a little disappointed it wasn’t a pony she knew. Still, at least she finally had a contract.

As she made her way to the indicated address, her mind wandered to the same train of thought it usually did during these commutes: who was she working for exactly?

After completing a contract, she once staked out the locker for nearly two days out of curiosity. She found nopony. Instead, her payment had materialized into the locker as if by magic. She had her pet theories of course but whomever it was, she knew intuitively that it had at least the tacit approval of Princess Luna if not Princess Celestia.

Octavia found no records of any murders, let alone violent crimes, anywhere in Equestria in recent memory. This seemed a little odd to her given what she knew about pony nature; given what she knew about herself…

Perhaps the sovereigns of this land execute violent criminals behind closed doors, or dispatch them before they’re able to commit a crime at all using ponies like herself. Afterall, if Princess Luna can see into ponies’ dreams, she theoretically could root out the bad apples this way.

Octavia laughed to herself realizing she sounded like one of those raving conspiracy theorists on the radio. She ran a hoof through her silky black mane as if to compose herself as she went up the gilded staircase of Harborview.

Harborview turned out to be a new apartment complex, complete with immaculate white walls and impressive granite accents. Each room was fitted with a veranda, generously furnished with greenery and hoof crafted chairs.

Octavia wistfully imagined herself living in such a chic place as she reached room 361. She took a deep breath, then gave the polished door a gentle knock.

A lime green unicorn well along into his middle age answered the door with annoyed hesitation. His face quickly beamed however upon seeing the beautiful earth pony on his doorstep.

“Well now, what can I do for you young lady,” he smiled adjusting his spectacles.

“Good afternoon sir, I apologize for intruding but might you be Mr. Highbrow?” Octavia asked with a faux quavering voice.

“In the flesh,” the unicorn responded wryly.

“Well Mr. Highbrow, my name is Octavia Melody, and I’m a cellist with the Canterlot Philharmonic. We’re currently running our bi-annual pledge drive again, and you were kind enough to support us last season,” she continued. “If now’s a good time sir I was hoping I could tell you more about our upcoming concert for the Summer Sun Celebration, and solicit your patronage once more.”

“I don’t recall ever donating to the orchestra,” the unicorn said rubbing his chin.

Any nascent suspicion quickly melted under the innocent purple eyes of the cute mare. It was impossible for him to resist the opportunity for her company, however fleeting.

“But the Summer Sun Celebration you say? Please, do come in and tell me more,” the unicorn all but blabbered.

“Thank you sir,” Octavia obliged with a graceful bow.

“Well, make yourself comfortable young lady,” he said motioning at a dining table. “Let me put on a spot of tea.”

“I’d like that very much sir,” Octavia responded meekly as she sat down.

When Highbrow disappeared into the kitchen she perked up her ears, listening for any other pony in the opulent premises. He was alone. She fought down the urge to laugh at how perfectly everything was proceeding as she stealthily slipped out of her seat.

She took a peek into the kitchen and found him busily boiling water with his back turned. She undid her bow tie and noiselessly moved in behind him.

“Very impressive to make the Canterlot Philharmonic at such a young age. You must be a very gifted po-”

Highbrow’s attempt at small talk was snuffed out in a gurgle as Octavia choked him with her bow tie.

“Whats, what’s the meaning of this!” he gasped as he thrashed madly.

He was only wasting his oxygen as his lime green face took on a distinctly sanguine shade. In a last ditch effort, a green magical aura reached out at the tea kettle atop the stove. Octavia effortlessly jerked the aging pony around out of sight of the kettle as she applied more pressure. The stallion’s eyes rolled back into his skull.

This was her favorite moment; the threshold of life and death. Embracing a dieing pony tightly as they slowly fade to black was simply intoxicating. The erratic beating of the heart, the rising of the chest getting shallower and more infrequent. The divine symphony of the body electric inexorably passing into a decrescendo. And yet here was her healthy body rubbing up against doom itself. She was sharing herself with oblivion in this intimate cosmic blip of life...if only she could share this experience with a friend entangled between her bow tie. The thought sent shivers down her spine.

“Shhhhhh,” Octavia whispered into the unicorn’s ear. “Go to sleep now. Luna awaits.”

She briefly wondered why she always said that. It reflexively rolled off her tongue every time as though it were the most natural thing.

Regardless, Highbrow went limp in her forelegs with a final twitch. She continued to choke him for a minute or two just to make sure before letting the body fall with a dull thud.

She let out a deep and satisfied sigh as if she just orgasmed. With a soft chuckle she helped herself to the washroom where she fixed her mane and retied her bow tie.

She smirked at her reflection in the mirror.


By the time she got home it was already sundown.

The metallic clanking of her hoofsteps on the catwalk-esque staircase was all the reminder she needed that the fruits of her labor laid yet out of reach. Her demeanor remained upbeat however despite the dilapidated brick construction of her apartment compared to Harborview.

She unlocked her door and flipped the lights on.

“Surprise!” cried out a female voice.

Octavia fixed her eyes on a white unicorn with a unruly blue mane. The unicorn was smiling from ear to ear with her forelegs outstretched.

“Uhh Vinyl?” she asked making her way inside.

Though permanently stained with age, the carpet seemed freshly vacuumed with not a single pizza box smashed on the floor. Magazines and flyers, usually strewn everywhere like a bombed stock exchange, were in neat little piles on a freshly wiped table. Even the kitchen sink was in a usable state, no longer inundated with empty beer cans and dirty dishes.

“You did this?” Octavia asked incredulously.

“Yeah, you know you’re always on my ass about destroying the place so I figured I’ll do some sprucing up,” said Vinyl.

“What’s the occasion?”

“You serious?” Vinyl countered with a raised eyebrow. “It’s your freakin birthday! I even got you cake!”

Between rehearsals and her extra curricular activities she’d completely forgotten.

“Oh Vinyl you shouldn’t have,” Octavia gushed embracing her friend.

“Hey hey come on, I don’t swing that way,” Vinyl blushed breaking free. “Now let’s eat! I got you your favorite,” she said shoving her a slice of strawberry shortcake.

Octavia took a bite, flashing Vinyl another grateful smile as she chewed. The succulent fruit juice mixed with the rich cream, whisking her mouth away to heaven. She finally swallowed, sending the ambrosia down her throat where it promptly burnt her esophagus.
A violent coughing fit overtook her as the cake went tumbling to the floor. Her lungs felt as though they were being pierced by thousands of glass shards, every cough sending shrapnel all throughout her organs. Octavia doubled over, puking up a putrid brew of blood and cake.

“Vinyle help,” she gasped.

Vinyl Scratch continued to eat her cake casually. “Mmmm this is some good stuff right here,” she said pointing at her cake with a fork.

Vinyl finally put down the cake nonchalantly and walked over to the earth pony. Out of her watering eyes, Octavia saw the unicorn bend over and gently stroke her black mane.

“Shhhh,” Vinyl whispered in her ear. “Go to sleep now. Luna awaits.”

Octavia’s blood froze, then her heart.