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4246 23.78 KB 427
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Author: DangerousAmoeba
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Pastebin URL: zCsDnMMY.html
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Date: Jul 12th, 2016
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>You sit in your office going over the case notes.
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>It’s too late for this shit, but this isn’t gonna let you sleep.
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>The Honeymoon killer, as the newspaper had taken to calling him.
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>Well, you don’t know if it’s a him, or anything about the killer.
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>The way the newspapers write it, you’d think they’ve already figured it out.
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>17 ponies dead.
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>All the information you have matches the culprit being a Changeling.
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>One of the detectives already has a suspect ready to go up in front of a judge.
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>But you can’t shake a gut feeling that it’s just wrong.
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>You look over the notes again.
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>Cause of death: shock, leading to heart failure.
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>Every single one.
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>Something that happens if changeling suck too much love.
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>All the dead are either prostitutes, or patrons.
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>One or the other would make sense, but both is weird.
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>Maybe some kind of moral crusade to clean the streets.
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>Or, a Changeling getting greedy. Sucking patrons dry, and stealing from non-changeling prostitutes.
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>Time of deaths are all after midnight, all in the red-light districts.
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>A Changeling dense area, mostly love collectors. Legal prostitutes.
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>Recovered evidence: A small derringer bore no bigger than 1/16th hoof. Nothing unusual, though very small bore size.
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>Various jewelry, some removed very violently. Evidence suggest post mortem removal.
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>Weird the perp didn’t take the jewelry, probably not interested in money.
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>But then why take the jewelry off?
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>Nothing else of note, various pieces of clothing, hair brushes, lipsticks, etc. All things that seem to have been the victims.
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>Except one, A piece of chitin.
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>For some, this is the end all be all of evidence. You’re not so sure.
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>Every other detective has concluded the perp is a ‘ling.
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>You’d think that too. Except for one thing.
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>One victim to be exact, a Changeling.
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>Aged about 25, mare. From the pictures, clearly a physically blessed individual.
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>Though you like to stay in the bounds of professionalism, you have to say she is kind of...
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>Cute.
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>No Changeling would harm another Changeling. They’re simply too loyal.
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>Though you’re the only one here who thinks that. Everypony else has concluded it’s an isolated case.
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>Perp is a lone wolf of some kind, killed a sister in a bad phase.
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>Maybe. But you’re not convinced.
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>Shock. Still the cause of death doesn’t make sense for a Changeling.
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>A ‘Ling can’t suck all the love from another. They have ways to stop each other from doing it.
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>Simply put, the cause of death just doesn’t add up.
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>You think of anything else, any other pieces of evidence that would point to something.
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>But the trail is cold.
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>You sigh, and pour yourself another scotch, giving up on the case for now.
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>”Detective Heart?”
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>Your secretary calls standing at the door.
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>”A pony is here to see you.”
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>You raise an eyebrow at your secretary. She knows full well, you don’t like weird visitors.
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>You bought her that Chicacolt typewriter for a reason.
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>”She won’t say much, just says that she knows something about the ‘Ling case.”
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>Normally you’d tell anypony to fuck off right now, but this case has frustrated you for the past 2 months.
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>If you had a marriage, this case would be ruining it.
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“Send her in.”
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>You sit properly in your chair, and check your drawer for you gun.
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>In walks a grey mare, with a red mane, with a single silver streak.
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>”Detective?”
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“Please take a seat, Ma’am.”
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>You scan her. She has a look of professionalism and confidence.
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>But you can sense her faltering, she won’t meet eye to eye, and simple missteps give her away.
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>She’s like a filly, who grew up too fast, but at the end of the day is still a filly.
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>You know the kind.
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>”You’re being politer than you want to be detective.”
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“You’re right. Who are you?”
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>She straightens up, as if she wasn’t expecting that but thought she was.
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>”My sister’s been taken.”
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>You raise an eyebrow at her, almost scolding like a parent.
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“Why didn’t you report to the police?”
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>”Because police are loud, messy. You on the other hoof-”
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“Am a detective. I don’t do daring rescues.”
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>”I don’t need a daring rescue, detective. I need somepony who...”
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>She thinks for a minute.
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>”I need somepony, who understands when to use force, and when to use words.”
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>You’re confused by her vague answer.
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>No clue what she’s on about, but she has a point with you being less likely to scare the perp off.
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“But why come to me of all ponies? I’m nowhere near the best detective.”
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>”Because, I know you’ve been working the Honeymoon case.”
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>She holding out something, it’s obvious.
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>You can’t put a hoof on it, but you can see it in her.
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>Like a filly who doesn’t want her crush to know, an apprehension.
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”Sure, so are 20 other detectives. Why come to me?”
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>”Why does that matter? I came to you, now will you help me?”
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“Look, sweetie. In my game, everything matters.”
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>”Look... My sister is in danger right now. I know you don’t care, but she’s the only pony to have seen the killer and is still alive.”
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>She thinks for a second.
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>”I know you care about that.”
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>Sometimes you drink wishing you could help them all, her reminding you can’t doesn’t help.
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>You can see she’s not as stoic as she first was, her confidence is see through as glass.
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>You’re too nice to simply say no, and want to hear what she has to say.
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“Fine. How did you know your sister was taken?”
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>Pulling out a notebook, you begin taking her statement.
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>”She was working, gets a normal looking customer. Colt pays upfront and leads her off.”
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“What’s this colt look like?”
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>”Orange coat, red mane, a rake cutie mark. He leads her to the one night motel. She gets nabbed at the side entrance. You know the one.”
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>One night is a seedy motel, well named for what it’s worth.
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>Their entire business is around prostitution. Rumor says changelings run the place.
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>The famous side entrance is the secret everyone knows about.
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>No one looks there, not even cops.
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“How’s this colt connected to the killer?”
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>”He’s not. He was clearly paid by someone to lead her there.”
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“How do you know?”
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>”The business runs in the family, detective. You learn.”
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>Though you know that wouldn’t stand up in court, street experience is respectable.
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>at least as long as they’re on your side.
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”How did you see all this happen?”
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>“hmm. It’s a long story. I’m just gonna say, I keep an eye on my sister.”
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“Did you see whoever got her?”
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>”Kinda.”
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“Anything strange about it? Weird body structure? Thin wings?
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>”He wasn’t a Changeling, detective.”
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>She looks at you like you opened a can of worms.
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>More importantly, how did she pick that up?
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>Newspapers still haven’t put a race on the perp, even though they’ve given him more background than anypony has.
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“Most detectives pin a ‘Ling as our perp.”
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>”The killer isn’t a Changeling!”
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>You’ve struck a nerve, and though it hurts you to twist a knife, you really can’t let it go.
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“I don’t know how you can say that! The ponies killed! Time of death! Cause! Area!”
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>”The killer is not a Changeling!”
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>She’s fuming at this point.
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“Denying it doesn’t make it not true darling, we already have a line of ‘lings in custody!”
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>”I’M A CHANGELING!”
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>She flashes a brilliant green, and turns to her true form before your eyes.
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>Before you is a smaller than average Changeling.
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>Her pink pupils dilated behind her thick bug eyes. Angrily looking at you.
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>Of all things, this was the last you expected.
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>You know you’re showing shock.
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>”That’s why I came to you! Because you’re the only one who doesn’t blame us!”
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>Her anger’s slowly turning to despair.
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>”I just want somepony who won’t put us behind bars for trying to get help.”
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>She looks away and at the floor.
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>”Help me...”
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>She looks back at you with big moist bug eyes.
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>Celestia knows if she’s controlling your mind right now, but you can’t look away.
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>”...Please?”
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>She sounds unsure of herself.
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>You’re unsure with yourself too.
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>You have firsthoof chance of interviewing a changeling. This could have been exactly what you needed.
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>On the otherhoof, changeling aren’t cute bugs. They once controlled the mind of a prince.
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>You’re entirely unsure of what to do.
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>You stand up, turn around, and close the window. Bringing the curtains together afterwards.
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“OK.”
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-------------------------------------------------------
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>You take what you think is your hundredth drink, and recollect all the facts.
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“The kidnapper grabbed your sister, dragged her all the way across to the edge of the red, and is now keeping her somewhere in an apartment?”
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>”I know it sounds crazy...”
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>She stopped sounding sure of herself after her outburst.
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>You really hope nopony heard that.
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>For her well being if anything.
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“I stopped caring about crazy a while back, sweetie.”
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>Checking over any details you wanted clarification, you found none.
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>You close up and put your notebook away.
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“What I care about is truth.”
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>Eyeing her as you speak, you see she shifts.
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>”You don’t believe me?”
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>She almost sounds heartbroken, like she’s hoping for something.
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>You slide open your drawer.
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>Pull out your new winggun, and release the slide with your strong feathers.
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”I didn’t say that.”
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>The gun makes a satisfying noise, and you check to make sure a round chambered.
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“Let’s find out.”
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>You put your gun into your flank hostler, and slide on your trench coat.
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>Yea you have a hard time flying in it, but it’s warm, concealing, and has a ton of pockets.
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>Eying the changeling, you see she has new hope.
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>She’s relived, almost looks like excitement.
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>Have to keep an eye on her, or maybe her ‘sister’.
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>You’ve seen stronger set up games.
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>Walk out of your office, the mare follows you.
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>Putting on your hat, you feel for your hostler one last time.
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>It’s the last thing you’re forgetting going to the red.
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“Keep an eye on anypony who comes through. Keep yours ready.”
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>You whisper to your secretary, and she nods.
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>”Happy hunting, detective.”
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>Make sure the Changeling is behind you, you walk down the hallway and down a flight of stairs.
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>You notice she’s wearing her disguise again, the redhead mare with grey coat.
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>Stepping out into the early night, you check your watch.
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>It’s only 8 but Celestia puts the sun down faster on these rainy seasons.
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>Canterlot will have it’s share, hopefully not tonight, though the Pegasus in you feels the humidity in the air.
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“Say, I didn’t get your name.”
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>You begin walking towards your car; the black hardtop is parked on the road.
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>”Call me whatever you want, detective.”
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“Not even a last name?”
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>”We don’t have a last name.”
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>You didn’t know that.
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>Though that raises questions about some of your acquaintances through the years.
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>”I won’t tell you a first name, unless you tell me yours.”
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>You open the passenger door on your car, and hold it open for her to enter.
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>”Thank you detective...”
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“What if I said that Heart is my name?”
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>”I’d know you’re lying.”
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>You walk around and sit in the driver’s seat.
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“If you can figure that out. I’m sure you can find my name.”
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>Your engine rumbles to a start.
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>This car costs you a chunk of bits, but it was worth it.
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>You pull out of the parking, and drive down the road.
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>The redlight area isn’t too far from your office.
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>You look in the rear view mirror.
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>A two tone Royale is behind you. You make note of it’s hood ornament.
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>You turn at a place, going towards the freeway.
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>”Where are you going? Red light is that away.”
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“We’re being followed.”
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>Sure enough, in the rear view mirror you can see the Royale behind you.
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>You make sure to drive calmly, make sure he thinks you don’t know he’s there.
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>But even then, you go in circles, take weird routs down unknown roads and so on.
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>Just to be sure he’s following you, and learn how he drives.
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>He’s a charger, knows how to speed for sure, but can’t handle his way around obstructions.
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>You can tell by his wide slow turns, but him quickly catching up with you.
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>Finally you board the freeway; I’ll drop you off at the northern side of the redlight.
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>That colt sticks on you, you eye the traffic pattern, looking for gaps.
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“Hold on, darling.”
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>You shift down and floor it. Your engine roars and rumbles.
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>This is why you got this car.
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>Quickly weaving into the 1st, then 2nd lane, then 3rd, 2nd and 3rd again.
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>Staying in the 3rd, you see the Royale stuck behind many cars, struggling to gain.
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>You change to the second clear lane far ahead.
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>Flooring it, you upshift to keep your engine quiet.
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>”You spend a good bit on the car, cheeped out on the auto?”
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“Auto may be nice sweetheart, but manual is where the speed is.”
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>Soon you’re off the freeway at the edge of the red light.
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>You make sure the Royal isn’t following you.
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>It’s almost 9:30, by the time you make it to the apartment where the sisters held.
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“You didn’t tell me it was abandoned.”
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>”There was a fire a couple years back. Place wasn’t really built to code, a ton of walls collapsed.”
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“And now it makes the perfect hideout.”
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>”You’d think. Place has always been calm, nothing but kids and the odd junkie.”
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>You study the place a bit, and turn your car off.
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>There’s somepony inside, counting up it’s the 12th floor.
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>They’re shadow is clearly visible, and you can see he’s got a gat.
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“Stay here. I’ll be back with your sister.”
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>You know she’s not gonna stay, but she knows you won’t let her come with you.
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>You give her a look to make sure she understands.
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>”Fine. These stairs are collapsed halfway.”
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>She points to the left side of the building.
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“Thanks.”
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>Walking into the building, you notice the whole place dimly lit.
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>Looks like it’s drawing from the main grid, so it never lost power.
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>The whole place is covered in rubble and garbage.
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>You’re surprised it managed to stay standing while looking like this.
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>Exposed rebar, and collapsed structure is everywhere.
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>It almost looks like a demolition job in progress.
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>You walk to the stairwell she said not to use.
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>The stairs go up a good way; before you see the collapsed part, she was mentioned.
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>You climb up as far as the stairs go.
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>At each floor is a window, you watch the mare in your car.
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>You spy on her for a good 5 minutes, you can see the child like impatient in her.
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>She steps out onto the pavement and eyes around the building for you.
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>You’re not worried about being seen, changeling night vision isn’t too great.
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>More importantly, you knew she wasn’t gonna stay.
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>She walks around to the stairwell that isn’t damaged, taking the predictable path.
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>You knew she was gonna do this.
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>You enter the floor numbered with a faded 7.
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>Walking around the back, you’re startled by a rat scurrying away.
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>Knowing how these old buildings where built, you know of a secret passage.
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>There should be a maintenance tunnel that runs around the building.
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>It should also have a ladder that can reach every floor.
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>Search around the walls for it, you see a collapsed section of wall with a hole.
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>Judging by the pipes and wires, this is it.
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>The hole is just big enough for you to slip in; you make sure you have everything.
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>Now track down that ladder, you climb straight up to the 12th floor.
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>You get off and hear a confrontation of sorts has already begun.
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>Hearing a few gunshots, you poke your head out of the door.
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>Drawing your piece, you sneak around the place.
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>Eyeing every corner.
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>Up until yo-*BANG*
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>---
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>”I know yer there can’t hide from me, bug.”
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>The orange stallion sweeps the room, trying to find the mare.
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>”Comeout, wherever you are!”
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>He shoots a few rounds into the next room.
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>”Don’t worry; we’ll put you with your friend.”
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>He continues checking every room, stepping over rubble walls that once separated rooms.
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>Then he stops when he hears something rustling behind one of the closed doors.
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>He aims his gun, and ready to pull the trigger.
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>Bursts out from behind is a masked pony, his partner.
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>He nearly shoots, before he sees he’s holding a mare with his wings.
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>”Holy shit!”
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>”You jump like a little filly, coal.”
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>”Shut up, almost lit you up, featherbrain.”
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>He puts his gat down, and eyes the grey mare in his partners grip.
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>”What do we have here?”
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>He reaches a hoof to touch her, but his partner moves away.
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>”Buck off, coal. I get first.”
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>’Coal’ laughs.
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>”Broads always take away your generous side, plank.”
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>”Finder keeper, coal.”
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>’Plank’ walks out the room into the open hallways.
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>”C’mon, let’s put her with the other. I’ll let you have first on her. Jus’ don’t tell the boss.”
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>”There’s the generous plank, I know.”
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>Plank fights to keep the mare in line, while Coal leads on.
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>”You oughta calm it sweetie, that detective friend of yours isn’t coming.”
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>”What did you do to him?!”
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>”Just tagged him a few, y’know, the usual.”
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>The stallion answers with little guilt or feeling.
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>His partner laughs, and the mare seems to accept her fate.
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>They walk through the rubble-covered halls, taking short cuts through rooms.
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>Coal leads them up the stairs, to a locked room.
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>Opening up, and inside is a Changeling, tied up and gagged.
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>”Hmmmf!”
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>”Nophy!”
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>The grey mare struggles against the larger stallion.
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>Coal laughs at her struggle.
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>”Don’t worry, you’ll be spending a lot of time with her soon eno-...”
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>*BANG*
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>---
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>The stallion falls to the floor, with a loud thud.
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>You were considering keeping him alive, but decided against it thinking over what you read.
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>You let go of the mare in your wing, and she looks at you in shock and confusion.
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>Using your wing and a hoof, you remove the mask on your face, and reveal yourself.
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“Sorry. Are you ok?”
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>You really had no choice; you wouldn’t have done so well against his typewriter.
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>The mare looks at you, on the verge of tears.
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>You feel bad for her, didn’t mean to scare her like that.
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>She’s just a filly pro-
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>*SMACK*
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>-You probably deserved that.
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>She runs off to untie her sister.
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>You rub your cheek and eye the dead stallion in the corner.
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>Welking over to him, you start searching through him.
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>Bag of bits, multiple weapons, and a few other things.
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>You find his wallet, and open it.
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>’Coal Cart, aged 31’
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>He used to work at the coal farm out of Appleloosa judging by the memorabilia.
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>”Why did you kill him?”
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>It’s not your mare, it’s another one.
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“I found a couple notes his partner wrote. He’s not the kind of guy I trusted alive.”
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>You put his wallet on his body, and stand up.
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“Detective Heart. Do you need an ambulance miss..?”
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>”Nopha. No. No I’ll be fine.”
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>You can see she’s a little shaken up, but not nearly enough.
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“Are you sure?”
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>”I appreciate you worrying, detective.”
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>She gives you a smile, and you study her.
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>She’s a changeling, different from your changeling.
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>For one, her coloration is darker, almost black chitin. Her eyes are red along with her wings, with light grey iris.
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“We should head out of here; I’ll get some uniforms to sweep the place. Unless you know anything of interest.”
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>”No. I was cold when they brought me here. I only woke up a few hours ago.”
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>She’s somepony... Somebug?
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>She’s somebug who’s been through a lot, she looks old and weathered.
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>But you can’t close an avenue of investigation based on that alone.
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“You seem pretty calm for somepony who’s just woken up in an abandoned building. Not to mention being tied and gagged.”
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>”Haha. Detective. I guess you could say this isn’t my first time. By choice an otherwise.”
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>You can see, hear and feel the seductress in her. That makes you uneasy.
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>”Changeling have been through a lot, Detective. Being bound and gagged isn’t something new.”
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>She sounds like an old mother now.
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>Though that you can trust.
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>You try not to give her too much to judge you on.
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“Let’s get down to the floor level then.”
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>The walk to the floor level isn’t eventful at all
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>The smaller mare keeps eyeing you, until you eye her back and then she looks away.
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>You can see she’s blushing, but your pony reading skills have limits and it’s really bugging you.
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>The party get back to your car.
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>You open the door for the mares, and hold it open.
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>”Thank you detective.”
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>You head to the driver’s seat, and start the car.
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>Once the car is on, you pick up the radio mic.
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“Heart, badge 1972.”
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>”Go ahead detective.”
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“Requesting uniform officers, at the abandoned apartment, Stable Street, between Colt and bath.”
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>”Please hold detective.”
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>You sit around looking around your car.
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>You see the Royale from earlier parked a few buildings down.
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>Same emblem, same ornament, same two-tone paint.
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>”Detective, the Captain would like to speak to you. Putting him through now.”
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>Why would the captain want a word on you?
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>He doesn’t normally like you, doesn’t like your ways of doing things.
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>Jock it up to his old age.
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>”Heart, What are you doing calling back up for?”
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“I was following the honeymoon case. Ended up at this abandoned building, found a would be victim.”
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>”Was there a confrontation? Casualties?”
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“Yes sir. Two kidnappers.”
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>The captain pauses for a minute.
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>”The kidnapping victims are with you?”
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“Yes sir.”
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>He pauses for a long while.
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>You stare out the windshield at the Royale.
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>The grey mare eyes you with worry in her eyes.
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>You can see her out the corner of your eye, though you’re not sure she knowns that.
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>”I’m sending officers. Continue with your investigation, but come to my office tomorrow.”
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“Yes sir.”
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>You put the hoofset down, and push into first.
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>Making sure to drive away from the Royale, can’t have him seeing your mares.
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>He doesn’t pull out thankfully.
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>But he probably already knows where you’re going.
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>”Bad blood between you two?”
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“Huh?”
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>You snap out of your thought and realize the mare in the back is speaking.
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>You also didn’t realize she has a disguise on.
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>A light blue mare with blonde hair, and light green eyes.
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>”The captain and you.”
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“No, not really.”
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>You try to leave it at that, it wouldn’t be professional to air out dirty laundry.
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>”I thought so.”
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>You’re not sure what she means by that, but you leave it at that.
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>The drive back is uneventful.
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>Occasionally the two mares would come really close and rub muzzles.
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>You think they’re whispering, but all you can’t hear anything.
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>Eventually, you reach your office building.
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>The passengers get out of the car, and stand on the side of the curb.
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>You lock your car, and signal them to follow you.
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>The party reaches the top of the stairs and into your office.
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>Your secretary eyes you over a typewriter.
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>”Hello detective Heart.”
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“Hello, Ribbon.”
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>Walking into your office quickly, you make sure the mares are following.
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“Now. I know you’ve been through a lot.-”
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>”You don’t have to worry about me detective. Really I was kidnapped only a few hours ago.”
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>”Nophy, you-.”
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>”Hush, Nectar. Go outside while the Detective and I speak.”
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>So, Nectar huh.
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>Cute.
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>Fitting.
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>The smaller mare blushes and walks outside your office.
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>The older one takes a seat.
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>”Now detective. I am willing to answer any questions you may have.”
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>And damn you have many.
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>You pull your notebook out, and a pencil.
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>”But first.”
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>You look up to see the mare transform in a cloud of green.
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>Back into the old changeling.
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>”I understand trust is a rare commodity.”
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>She leans forward and offers you a smile.
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>You respond cautiously, this mare is interesting.
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>Not to be taken lightly.
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by rmp
by rmp
by rmp