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