The Hardest Goodbye ([Bump] Story) AKAME FEB 11TH, 2014


                                            “I don’t like it, Twilight.”

                                            >”What do you mean, Detective?”

                                            >You ponder the crime scene in front of you.

                                            ”Some poor stallion gets whammed in the head, right in front headquarters. Then I find out he was an undercover cop, one of the best ever to enter the 01st precinct. Makes me think someone was trying to bump him off...”

                                            >Your assistant gasps.

                                            >Uptight broad like her isn’t suited for crimes like this.

                                            >Equicide.

                                            >Attempted at least.

                                            >You trace the area around the accordion next to where you found the victim.

                                            >Not many p0nies have an accordion like this.

                                            >Could be a coincidence though.

                                            >Maybe someone just heard one key too many, threw it away.

                                            >Maybe it just happened to hit a young undercover stallion on his way to report a big break in his case.

                                            >Could be.

                                            Sigh…

                                            “We’re not going to find anything around here, this crime scene is colder than my wife’s pie when I come home after a long night on the job.”


                                            >The night is cold and wet.

                                            >P0nies bump into you as they try to escape the torrential downpour coming from the sky like Celestia herself had been drinking all night and finally decided to break the seal.

                                            >But you storm on, unfettered by the celestial micturate splashing down your coat.

                                            >A good stallion is laying in a hospital bed tonight.

                                            >His son sitting next to him, clutching a figure of some super hero, wondering if his dad would be alright.

                                            >You couldn’t give him an answer, but that doesn’t mean you won't get yours.

                                            >Doesn’t mean the sick son of a bitch who did this won’t get theirs.

                                            >”Anon! The rain is picking up!”

                                            >Your assistant shouts over the squall around you.

                                            >”Can’t we search tomorrow?”

                                            “The culprit could be gone by then.”

                                            >Water drips from your brow as you pick up the pace.

                                            “Few people are capable of wielding instruments as complex as an accordion, Twilight.”

                                            >Your boot stomps into a puddle as you stare straight at your destination.

                                            >Sugarcube Corner.

                                            >Time to bump into your first suspect.


                                            >The sound of your footsteps on the floor of Sugarcube Corner causes a hush to fall over the patrons.

                                            >Iron Boot Anonymous.

                                            >That’s what the people called you.

                                            >Brought in when a case was beyond normal comprehension, your thundering footsteps commanded the respect someone of your stature deserved.

                                            >Your first suspect is here in this den of confectionary vice, this saccharine pit, this house of cane.

                                            >Sugar cane.

                                            >Bump.

                                            >You look down to see a pink earthp0ny smiling up at you.

                                            “Pinkie Pie.”

                                            >”Helloooo! Deeee-tective Anon!”

                                            >The mare salutes you in jest.

                                            >You flip a table over in anger.

                                            “A stallion’s in the hospital right now, Pinkie. The only clue we have is an accordion found next to him.”

                                            >She blinks at you, either in fear, or in shock as you growl at her.

                                            “Where’s your accordion?”


                                            >Pinkie wasn’t hard to break.

                                            >Tied her up, forced her to give you what you wanted.

                                            >For each joke instead of an answer, you’d drop a cupcake onto the floor.

                                            >Icing down.

                                            >By the third one, she was practically begging to tell you everything.

                                            >She told you someone had borrowed her instrument.

                                            >Another cupcake got you a name.

                                            >Your blood froze when you heard it.

                                            >Fluttershy.

                                            >Closet pervert, the kind of sicko who gets off on stalking someone until they go mad.

                                            >The last three stallions she showed an interest in ended up committing suicide.

                                            >Poor bastards couldn’t take her so-called ‘love’.

                                            >Clever girl has used her connections to all but get off scott free.

                                            >Unfortunately for her, a boot’s about to come down hard on her whole operation.

                                            >An iron boot.


                                            >Thunder roars in the distance as you near her house.

                                            >Each step is lost in the relentless pounding rain until finally, you see the entrance to hell in front of you.

                                            >Standing before the wooden door, you turn to the young mare next to you.

                                            “Twilight, you don’t have to go in with me. Probably better if you didn’t.”

                                            >”I was with you when you started this case, Detective, I intend to be there when you finish it.”

                                            >Sweet girl.

                                            >Stupid girl.

                                            >Doesn’t know the horrors that await anyone who dares enter the lair of a rapist.

                                            >A swift kick from you blows it off its hinges.

                                            >No turning back now.

                                            >A good stallion is laying in a hospital bed tonight.

                                            >No turning back from any of this.


                                            >A flash of lightning punctuates your entrance.

                                            >You see the countless pictures liner Fluttershy’s home.

                                            >Their cheerful imagery nothing more than a cover for the sociopathic lust felt by their subject.

                                            >Bump-bump

                                            >Your heart is beating like crazy.

                                            >Need to be on edge, can’t let her get the drop on you.

                                            >You look over your shoulder to the purple p0ny riffling through a cupboard.

                                            >Can’t let her get the drop on Twilight either.

                                            >You head upstairs, treading carefully to avoid being caught off guard.

                                            >There was a rookie you had to train once, nice guy.

                                            >Got too eager to prove himself.

                                            >Ran in without checking his surroundings.

                                            >Lost a leg for it.

                                            >Lost his job for it.

                                            >Took his life for it.

                                            >Can’t make mistakes like that here.


                                            >Your stomach growls as you open the door to Fluttershy’s room.

                                            >Could really use a nice hot meal right now.

                                            >A heaping bowl of your your wife’s famous stew would be great.

                                            >But now isn’t the time for food.

                                            >You still haven’t seen any sign of your target.

                                            >In a storm like this, any sane person would be at home.

                                            >Guess that explains why hers is empty.

                                            >As you search the room, a thin ray of light catches your eye.

                                            >It’s coming from the closet.

                                            >Bump-bump.

                                            >Your heart’s pounding like two teenagers on prom night as you open the closet door.

                                            >The light blinds you for a moment before your eyes adjust.

                                            >It’s like some kind of shrine, probably to Fluttershy’s new ‘lover.’

                                            “Wait…”

                                            >You look at a picture in the center of the monument.

                                            >It’s you.

                                            “What in the-”

                                            >BUMP.

                                            >Damn it, how could you be so careless?

                                            >Before you pass out, you manage to see the hoof of your assailant.

                                            >It’s purple.


                                            >You come to in a basement.

                                            >Your limbs are tied down, keeping you from getting out of here and putting your iron boot up somep0ny’s ass.

                                            >The rain is still going on outside.

                                            >Inside here is where the real storm is brewing.

                                            >Out of the shadows flutters a yellow pegasus.

                                            >You narrow your eyes at her with a killing intent so fierce she momentarily backs off.

                                            >But she’s persistent.

                                            >She knows you can’t touch her.

                                            >Even if you were free, her connections would make her impossible to take down.

                                            “Who did this to me?”

                                            >A laugh fills the dank room in response to your gruff question.

                                            >Another figure steps out of the shadows, one that causes your heart to sink.

                                            >Betrayed.

                                            >By your own partner.

                                            “Twilight...”


                                            “Why would you do this?”

                                            >Your former partner trots up to the side of the table.

                                            >A small plastic bag of white liquid is thrown onto your chest.

                                            >You’ve seen this stuff before.

                                            >New drug sweeping across Equestria.

                                            >Makes p0nies see more than just colors.

                                            >”Remember this? I’m the one who’s been controlling all distribution this side of Canterlot.”

                                            >A purple aura surrounds the bag and float it to Fluttershy.

                                            >She quickly tears it open and drinks the thick liquid, letting out a contented sigh before moaning like a horny parakeet.

                                            >”That stallion was close to uncovering my whole operation here in Ponyville. I couldn’t just let him tell the police.”

                                            >Twilight looks down at you, sneering at her victory.

                                            >”After all, it would be cruel to deny p0nies their coom…”


                                            >You spit in the purple bitch’s face.

                                            “You’re a disgrace.”

                                            >She laughs and wipes your contempt off.

                                            >Then she starts beating you.

                                            >Her hoof smashes your face, breaking your nose.

                                            >”You know, I was going to ask you to join me.”

                                            >A blow to your gut knocks the wind out of you.

                                            >Kind of regret teaching her to fight.

                                            >”But you’d never go for that.”

                                            >She smashes an iron bar on your chest.

                                            >Broke a few ribs from the feel.

                                            >”Mr. Goodie-Fucking-Two Shoes.”

                                            >She must have gone on for a while.

                                            >After it all, you’re covered in blood and barely conscious.

                                            >Twilight looks down on you, panting from exhaustion.

                                            >”What... about now… What do... you have... to say now?”

                                            >You spit blood into her face this time.

                                            “Fuck you.”


                                            >Twilight’s eyes burn hotter than the hellish pit she crawled out of.

                                            >She wants to kill you.

                                            >No…

                                            >She wants to break you.

                                            >Ten years on the force, been with her for the past two of ‘em.

                                            >Never saw you break.

                                            >Been stabbed.

                                            >Burned.

                                            >Poisoned.

                                            >Buried.

                                            >Drowned.

                                            >You’ve lived through it all.

                                            >Unbroken, unyielding.

                                            >Taken down thieves, aristocrats, corrupted people- they’re all the same when you look close enough.

                                            >Twilight smiles.

                                            >They all get trampled under your boots.