> Trigger Happy Equines
>  by Ficta_Scriptor
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I remember the day so clearly, I think, because for once in a blue moon the maddening monotony of my life was irreparably altered. My life before that was seemingly unremarkable, at least in my eyes. Heck, I thought it was just about normal, that I was one of millions living out each day as if our last was an eternity away, a speck glinting on a hopeless horizon. It seemed, however, that I was more remarkable than I realized, but perhaps not for the right reasons.

For the past six years I’d been working as a janitor for a law firm. Before that I’d finished my time at school with middling grades and a grand total of zero friends. I’d made friends before, of course, but over time we’d simply drifted apart. Or, more accurately, I slowly drifted away from them. They seemed fine about it though. I wasn’t really one to get interested in other ponies’ lives. It was all too much work, and I was never sure if I was saying the right thing or giving the right impression. It’d make sense to assume that I was bullied heavily, but that wasn’t the case. Outside of a few rare occurrences, I was generally left alone.

My parents had died when I was young. First my mother, then my father in the space of about three years. I don’t really remember much about them, and any photographs I’d owned of them must have been slowly misplaced over the years. Or at least, something like that. After my Dad died I went to live with my aunt who adopted a very “hooves off” approach to parenting. I was just another mouth to feed, someone to take care of just enough so as not to be harassed by foal protection services or the police. She was single with no children of her own, so I grew up without siblings. I consider that maybe this was what made me into who I would eventually become, but when I think about it, I was probably just made this way. I was, in effect, a lead weight. An animal that breathed oxygen, ate food, and did normal pony things just enough to be quantified as equine.

Once I finished school and received my mediocre exam results my aunt told me I was on my own, and that was that. I’d seen it coming, as she’d mentioned numerous times that her debt to her brother had almost been repaid. Rather than beg or cry to not be thrown out into the harsh wide world as some might do, (I wasn’t all that scared or even fazed by this change) I just did as I was told and ended up in an apartment in lower Canterlot in one of the so-called “shanty towns.” (Though it was never really that bad, but compared with the surrounding monolithic buildings and palaces that peered from over the hills and dotted the skyline, these urban areas were decidedly poorer.)

My apartment was a cramped, zero-bedroom accommodation with a living room slash kitchen that made up almost my entire living space, plus a small bathroom and a built-in double wardrobe. I had a futon and some cushions to relax on and a stash of books from the library that I would cycle through on occasion. Reading was as close as I got to having a real passion for something, partly because I could sample the lives of those infinitely more interesting than my own without any real effort. They went on adventures, they fell in love, they changed the world, they learned life lessons and experienced utopias, dystopias, and everything in between. They had exciting jobs. They were government officials, teachers, soldiers and explorers. They were spies, living on edge and experiencing fantastic things that I could only dream of. What wasn’t to love? 

I’d consider myself reasonably well read, though I had no idea whether the books I was reading were acclaimed masterpieces, best sellers or simply a forgotten book by a forgotten author who’d hashed out a collection of words in a desperate attempt for either money, fame, or soul searching. I wish I could use that as a comment on critical reception and the “brainless masses” who gobbled up cliché, trite, poorly written disasters that appeal to the lowest denominator. At least then I’d have something to talk about, something remotely equine about myself, even if I would appear to be a snob or an elitist. The reality though, was that I just didn’t know, or indeed try to discover these things outside of reading the odd quote from The Canterlot Times printed on the back of a novel. Perhaps if I’d had friends or media exposure beyond the odd newspaper purchase I could’ve learned all this, but it just wasn’t going to happen. 

I worked for six hours a day, seven days a week, from five in the afternoon until eleven. As janitor of Sylvester-Gough Lawyers I was tasked with cleaning a relatively large building complex (Who knew lawyers could take up this much space?) after everyone had gone home. Occasionally there would be the odd employee staying on late to type up an important document or sigh heavily into their stack of photocopied wills, bills, spreadsheets and court rulings, but never anyone to actually talk to. Any attempt I’d made in the past was ended with a quip of “Mm-hmm? Oh, sorry, I really just need to get this done.” As such, most evenings were a case of plodding through dimly lit corridors with either a vacuum or a mop, scrubbing coffee stains from desks and pouring bleach into toilets. In many ways my time at work felt like a little bit of freedom from myself. Look at me now, Ma and Pa! I’m a grown up with a real job making real money and living all by myself! Aren’t you proud of your little colt? At least then I could pretend the memories of them meant that much to me, or that I could truly remember what each of them looked like. Plus, the occasional blocked toilet meant I could test my skills against a challenge of some sort. A job was a job.

But then it happened. I was discreetly informed through a letter that my position was no longer required. More accurately, though the letter failed to point this out, my post was instead being taken by a unicorn who had demonstrated their ability to complete the work in half the time I was able to, which fit in well with their other job at a local launderette. This was someone who, to most, would be considered to have “not made it” and “be in a rut,” taking away the crutch that kept me from starvation, while also having another job. I had trouble believing it.

My boss, Mr. Truncheon, had been somewhat sympathetic during our meeting, and promised me a worthy recommendation for my next job, as well as two weeks’ pay. Sounds nice, but he also dropped the ball about my replacement, rendering me speechless. Then something about proving myself, that I was capable of more, that he believed in me, blah blah. I’d only spoken to him five times in the entire time I’d worked there. 

I tried getting a new job and failed. At around the same time my water system had issues, and suddenly I had limited water flow and had to make do with a paltry dribble for a shower. I couldn’t afford the plumbing parts or the service, and I was already living almost entirely on kilo bags of brown rice and pasta. I could just about afford another month’s rent, but after that, I was living on borrowed time. And because of my personal situation, there was only so much money I could earn from the state. Then the next month came and I missed my payment. The letter I received seemed to assume that I’d just forgotten, or just needed a little while longer to pay in full. That made me chuckle a bit. I re-read it so many times I could chant it like a mantra.

I spent some days walking through the streets of Canterlot, wondering who I could possibly turn to. Unless I wanted to declare myself homeless and drop by a shelter (which for a while seemed like a good choice; free food and others who cared might be a welcome change) there was no-one, no family, no friends, not even ex-colleagues who I could turn to. As for the ponies I’d known at school, I doubted that any of them would suddenly take me in out of the kindness of their hearts. All in all, I wasn’t as worried as I should have been. I considered someone normal might contemplate suicide, but that seemed like too big a decision for me to handle. I needed a miracle. 

And then it happened. I’d been for a walk in the local park around midday, part of my meaningless attempt to attain a structured routine for what felt like my last dwindling days on Equus. I clambered up to the third floor of the apartment block and opened my door. Immediately, something felt amiss. Nothing had changed since I’d left, at least nothing obvious, but I could feel some kind of presence in the room. The bathroom door was shut, but I couldn’t remember if I’d shut it or not. I usually didn’t. I thought perhaps the apartment had been broken into, and the burglar had regrettably discovered that I owned nothing of value and had fled the scene. But that didn’t explain how my door had then been locked behind them. I looked again at the bathroom door. I could feel my heartrate accelerate and my nerves twitch as I considered something far more troubling. What if someone had broken in and locked themselves in the bathroom? What if they were to force me out of my own home? What if they were some crazed junkie who was liable to stab me as soon as I let my guard down? Alternatively, maybe it was a scared foal who had fled their terrible life and found my apartment door unlocked? Not likely, I thought. But the truth, as I would eventually learn, was more far-fetched than I could possibly imagine.

I grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and steeled myself. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but I also didn’t want to risk death from an intruder. This is ridiculous, I told myself as I slowly crept towards the door. You’re getting scared over nothing. This is all in your head because things haven’t been going well. You’re losing it. All valid points, but I had to know for sure. I took a deep breath, raised my knife-wielding hoof over the handle, pushed down and threw open the door in one swift movement. In the dim light from the living room ceiling-lamp I could see my bath towel, the shower, the sink, everything in its place. Letting out a sigh of relief I dropped the knife to the floor and chuckled to myself. I flicked on the bathroom light and stepped inside, ensuring that there was indeed no intruder tucked away somewhere. Of course, nothing. Then I was grabbed from behind.

I tried to scream, but before I could react some plastic breathing apparatus was forced onto my snout as my forelegs were wrenched behind me with unprecedented strength. I tried to wriggle free but only felt my attacker’s force upon me grow stronger. Or was it two of them? Three? I couldn’t make sense of it. Then suddenly I was pinned to the floor, my jaw throbbing with pain as it made impact with the ceramic tiles. Tears began streaming down my eyes as I considered that this was it, this was how I was going to die. I’d accomplished nothing in life, and now my chances were well and truly lost, and I wouldn’t even know who did it, or why. I’d be resorted to a brief paragraph in some no-name tabloid with fifty pages to fill and nothing to report. ‘Stallion found dead in apartment block, but don’t worry, none of you knew him and he wasn’t important. No big loss.’

My vision was fading. My limbs went numb. I could just barely move my eyeballs, not that it mattered. Whatever was being pumped through the plastic face mask was extraordinarily effective. Then I felt something drop down to my left ear and heard a long, deep inhalation. Then, a whisper: “You’ve been chosen.” The voice seemed oddly familiar, but my mind wasn’t clear enough to place it. As blackness took over and I lost consciousness, I heard what I thought was my apartment door being opened and a set of heavy hoof-steps. For some reason I knew, whoever it was, they weren’t here to save me. I had one last thought as I waited for death: They hid in my wardrobe. I should’ve realis-

Then my brain switched off.
> - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mother

 

 

Says 

 

 

It’s


 



 



Okay



 



 



To



 



Kill



 



Wolves

> Introductions
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

At first there was unending nothingness. Then, my consciousness abruptly began to exist. Next came the noise.

“Who is… The meaning of…”

“Where am… I shouldn’t…”

“Aaaagh! Get… Why are…”

“Settle down! We should… Think about…”

I heard a cacophony of voices as I slowly awoke. The first thing I felt was an immense cold, like a blanket of ice that enveloped my body and tingled my skin. For a moment I couldn’t even remember the terrifying experience in my apartment. It was like waking up from a heavy night’s drinking, but instead of a headache I was plagued by an incrementally depleting body-wide paralysis. I shivered and clutched at my chest, my mind blank while my muscles ran on automotive instinct. I opened my eyes and shrank back as I saw numerous forms before me. The memory of my attack sprang forth and I bolted upright, then recoiled slightly as my back groaned in pain.

The floor was a coarse, gritty grey metal with small indents. I pushed at the ground with my two fore-hooves and took a series of sharp gasps. I could smell an acrid, coppery odor that burned my throat. I looked up and recoiled from a bright, ceiling-held light that my eyes slowly adjusted to. I was at the rounded edge of a room in the shape of a semicircle, roughly thirty feet in diameter. On the wall in front of me was what appeared to be a mounted television screen, but with an absurdly wide landscape aspect ratio. Surrounding me, along the rest of the rounded edge were several others including earth ponies, unicorns, pegasi and one zebra mare. A stocky pegasus stallion was speaking to the rest of those who were already awake, trying to keep everyone calm, while a few others were only just waking up and coming to their senses. All of them were shackled to the wall from one of their hind legs, and I only then checked my own to find that I was indeed in the same predicament. 

I pulled against my chains, but it was no good. The links were made of thick galvanized steel, and the metal ring it connected to was bolted firmly to the cold, stone wall. I tried fiddling with the lock that was bound to my leg, but it was extremely tight-fitting, and trying to wrench the cuff over my joint only resulted in pain without progress.

At this point I felt something flap down against my chest, and I saw that I had a white plastic name tag (complete with my name and crude, cartoonish drawing of my face) in the shape of a business card draped around my neck by a piece of black rope. One quick glance around confirmed that this was the same for everyone present.

“What are we even doing here?” exclaimed a tan-coated mare wearing a black gown. “I have a busy schedule to attend to!”

“That’s your worry?” scoffed a unicorn stallion who was sat to my left. “Whoever kidnapped us obviously has something sinister planned.”

I thought back to my terrifying encounter before I’d blacked out. “You’ve been chosen.”

“It was those creepy guys in gas masks!” the zebra mare retorted. “Did they say the same to all of you?”

“Something about being chosen,” said a pink earth pony with a bouncy mane. She was somewhat familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why. I considered she might be an acquaintance, though that seemed highly unlikely. “But I don’t like it!” she continued. “It’s rude and mean to kidnap us! A real rotten prank! I say we break out of here, even if it means eating through our own chains!” She pulled up the slack on her own shackle and put it between her teeth, then recoiled as she bit down. “Okay, this is going to take some time.”

“This should be no match for me!” bellowed an enormous earth pony stallion at the edge of the room. His appearance was immediately frightening, being two heads taller than me and with a hulking frame beyond anything I’d ever witnessed. He sported a confident grin as he pulled his trapped leg forward and let out a grunt, the chains being pulled taut. It was important to note, however, that his chains were significantly thicker than anyone else’s. Whoever had trapped him here had understood the risk of someone so gigantic being able to pull themselves free. 

“I wouldn’t break those chains if I were yooooooouuuu…”

Everyone went silent as the high-pitched taunt echoed throughout the room. I looked around to see if I could find the source of the voice and was instead met with the stares of the others as they all did the same thing.

“What was that?” someone whispered. Again, there was only silence in response.

“Show yourself!” the pink mare demanded, jumping into an aggressive stance. “I know you’re around here somewhere!”

“Oh boy,” the creepy voice resumed. “You really think any of you are in the position to make demands?” There was a sigh, a brief pause, and then a sudden bone-chilling cackle that made several others gasp. “I’m the one who gives out the rules here, not any of you! And like I said, I wouldn’t go breaking yourselves out of those chains or I’ll have to punish you. Pu-hu-hu-hu-hu!”

Everyone was too stunned to move. I could feel my heart pounding inside my chest and instinctively drew back against the wall despite having no way of escape. 

“That’s it!” cried a unicorn mare with horn-rimmed glasses. “I say we blast our way out of here with spells if we have to!”

“No,” the stocky pegasus from before said sternly. “Let’s just do what they say for now. We have no idea what they want or what they’re capable of.”

“A very wise choice! I’d hate to have to dispose of any of you before the fun has even begun! Now, I want all of you to pay close attention.” The lights dimmed and the wall-mounted monitor flickered, displaying the number 9 repeated over and over again across the entire screen. Then they changed to 8 with a beep, then a 7. “Since you’re all in this together, I thought it best that you all got to know each other!” The countdown hit 2, 1, then 0, before going black.

Suddenly, the screen burst into color, a cheery fanfare with whoops and hollers playing as a strange, monochrome rabbit-like creature appeared. Its appearance was split squarely down the middle, with its right side being that of a typical white, slightly cartoonish bunny while its other half was black with a monstrous, razor-toothed grin and glowing red eye. 

“Hello and welcome!” the rabbit said in that familiar, unsettling voice, waving one of its paws. “My name is Monobunny, and you are all here for a very special occasion. You have all been chosen to take part in an exciting game of wit, tenacity and perseverance. You have each been chosen specially, for you are all such unique and remarkable equines from all walks of life.” I felt my fur prickle as I heard this comment. “You are the chosen Ultimates! Only one of you can be crowned the victor, but who will that be? Without further ado, let’s meet our contestants!”

The screen wiped to a mishmash of dancing shapes and colors as cheesy pop music played in the background. “Up first we have a medical practitioner who has pulled off incredible feats of scientific brilliance and saved countless lives!” A serious-looking unicorn mare appeared on the screen with a list of information and credentials. “Let’s give it up for surgeon extraordinaire, Doctor Scalpel!”


Doctor Lancet Scalpel



Ultimate Surgeon



Female, 36, Unicorn



Fur: White / Mane & Tail: Yellow/Orange streaks / Eyes: Gold


The video continued to switch between images, displaying a picture and information for each pony in the room in sequence. “Next we have a sensational athlete who has never lost a fight in his entire career! A hulking giant weighing in at over three hundred and fifty kilograms, with an immense appetite for saucy noodles and super-hot chilies. It’s the wrestling legend, Yoko Zuna!”


Yoko Zuna



Ultimate Sumo Wrestler



Male, 28, Earth Pony



Fur: Cream / Mane & Tail: Black / Eyes: Orange


“Next up is a happy-go-lucky mare who just wants to see the rest of the world smile. Always a clown and with nary a frown, here to brighten up your day is the fun-loving party planner, Pinkie Pie!”


Pinkie Pie



Ultimate Party Planner



Female, 26, Earth Pony



Fur: Baby Pink / Mane & Tail: Magenta / Eyes: Blue


“Onto our next contestant, a visionary with an eye for the classics, able to sell out theatres without being a sell-out himself! Time to break a leg, it’s the one and only Sanscript!” 


Sanscript



Ultimate Playwright



Male, 30, Unicorn



Fur: Blue / Mane and Tail: Light Grey / Eyes: Blue


“Away from the stage and into the wide world of food, there is one name that fills chef’s hearts with a dread like no other. A controversial figure with an eye for detail and taste-buds from heaven, it’s the queen of mean, Dish Panner!”


Dish Panner



Ultimate Food Critic



Female, 37, Earth Pony



Fur: Tan / Mane and Tail: Black / Eyes: Hazel


“Next we have a law enforcer that will send criminals packing. Catching his first thief at the age of seven and dismantling some of the most brutal gangs in all of Equestria, this wall of muscle is a finely tuned weapon against crime. Let’s hear it for Shetland Yard!”


Shetland Yard



Ultimate Police Officer



Male, 38, Pegasus



Fur: Light Grey / Mane & Tail: Shaved head & navy-blue tail / Eyes: Brown


“Now for our youngest participant, a teenager with an amazing talent for all kinds of digital entertainment. Whether it’s an epic role-playing game, a racing simulator or medieval strategy, he’s got the knack that so many others lack. Let’s hope it won’t be game over for Button Mash!”


Button Mash



Ultimate Gaming Prodigy



Male, 15, Earth Pony



Fur: Dark Brown / Mane & Tail: Streaky light brown / Eyes: Amber


Next the video cut to grainy static, the faint outline of a silhouette in the center and what sounded like a muffled voice followed by a distorted set of information much like those that had been appearing. The words were illegible and the voice unintelligible, but it had the distinct appearance that the rest of the introductions had. “I’m afraid we ran into a technical problem!” came the voice of Monobunny. “Nothing to worry about!” As quickly as the video had become misshapen and twisted, it sprang back into the usual format with the same jolly music playing. The bizarre shift elicited a few hushed mutterings from those around me.

“Up next is the pony with a thousand voices. Her skills in imitating the speech and mannerisms of others had made her an instant hit with everyone, except sometimes the ones she’s impersonating… But that’s how it goes for our next participant, Dopple!”


Dopple Ganger



Ultimate Impersonator



Female, 22, Pegasus



Fur: Lemon yellow / Mane & Tail: White / Eyes: Green


“What’s black and white and read all over? Our next participant! With boundless charisma and a loyalty to truth, even at its harshest. She can get an interview with just about anyone, and always gets the last word. Give it up for Inky!”


Ink “Inky” Slinger



Ultimate Reporter



Female, 25, Zebra



Fur: Black and white / Mane: Black and White / Eyes: Grey


“Meeting our next participant would be something truly magical. She can perform amazing tricks and seemingly impossible feats of magic, and she’s not even a unicorn! With sleight of hoof and a mastery of misdirection, daring escapes from certain doom… We’ll see if she can manage that here, it’s Copper Fields!”


Copper Fields



Ultimate Illusionist



Female, 24, Pegasus



Fur: Copper / Mane & Tail: Dark Green / Eyes: Green


“But she’s not the only pony who can mess with your head. Our next participant can twist your mind in knots with the mere power of suggestion. He has a master’s degree in equine psychology, or maybe he’s just hypnotized us all into thinking that. Welcome, Mesmer!”


Mesmer



Ultimate Hypnotist



Male, 42, Unicorn



Fur: Maroon / Mane & Tail: Black / Eyes: Red


As the introductions came, I trailed my eyes around the room, mentally checking off each pony that was mentioned. Sure enough, each of them was present, and looked exactly as they did in the video. My brain was whirring, trying to make sense of this whole insane scenario. And while I should have probably been terrified by my predicament, of the implications of my kidnapping, instead my biggest worry was what could possibly be said about me when the time came. Everyone else here had impressive talent, or some trait that made them unique. Or at least, that’s what the video had told me. Was it lying about them? If so, would it lie about me? The video continued.

“Next up, which profession do you think gets death threats for even the tiniest error in judgement, and ostracized by the community for one little mistake? If you guessed government official, you’re wrong! It’s actually the humble referee! Our next participant, however, is near infallible, a titan in the sports community. It can only be the affectionately named, Reph!”


Antonio “Reph” Rephael



Ultimate Sports Referee



Male, 35, Pegasus



Fur: Light blue / Mane & Tail: Brown / Eyes: Brown


“They say home is where the heart is, and few homes can stand up to our next guest’s. With an eye for décor and all things sleek, chic and absolutely at their peak, she can whip up a wicked color scheme. It’s Elsie De Pone!”


Elsie De Pone



Ultimate Interior Designer



Female, 32, Unicorn



Fur: Reddish orange / Mane & Tail: Dark brown / Eyes: Blue


“If you’re ever in need of a maid and a foal-sitter, kill two birds with one stone with our next participant! Hailing from the Chevalian city of Ponis, she’s been all over the country helping some of the most elite families around. Break out your dictionary and don’t call her Mary Cloppins, it’s the lovely Maribelle!”


Maribelle Cheval-Gelding



Ultimate Au Pair



Female, 28, Earth Pony



Fur: Light jade / Mane & Tail: Blond / Eyes: White


I took another look around the room. Everyone had already been accounted for. Everyone except for me. I shivered involuntarily, unsure what to expect next. I thought back to my humdrum life before all this, to the wasted years and self-imposed solitude. “You’ve been chosen.” That’s what I’d been told, that’s what had led me to this point. But why? I was the odd one out here. Unless this was a setup, unless everyone else was in on it… 

I felt the eyes of the others fall on me. The visuals on screen had paused momentarily, as if the mastermind behind all this was taunting me and me alone. 

“Pu-hu-hu-hu-hu!”

An icy chill ran down my back. An indescribable, intangible fear took over. 

“Last, and in many ways least, we have someone I’m super proud to present!”

I held my breath and tensed up, as if awaiting a physical blow to my stomach.

“Everyone else was so easy to discover and track down, but our last participant was a real diamond in the rough! Please give a warm welcome to the most pathetic, paltry excuse for an equine. So utterly forgettable with no accomplishments, no family, no friends, no fond memories, no life. No running water!” 

I fell limply to the floor, terror and helplessness overcoming me. I wanted to believe that this was all just a dream.

“Let’s give it up for this forgotten dreg of pony society, Greyscale!”


Greyscale



Ultimate Nobody



Male, 23, Earth Pony



Fur: Light Grey / Mane & Tail: Dark Grey / Eyes: Grey

> Laying Down The Rules
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Now that the introductions are out of the way, I’d like to lay down some important ground rules before we start the game.”

Monobunny appeared on screen once more, this time dressed in a teacher’s cap and holding a stick against a blackboard with a numbered list of rules. It read:


1. Access to the swimming pool is only allowed between 07:00 and 18:00.


2. Access to the MonoMonoMart is only allowed between 07:00 and 20:00.


3. No breaking any of the security cameras.


4. No breaking any of the magnetic locks on any of the doors or lockers.


5. No attempting to harm Monobunny.


6. Unicorns may only use basic levitation spells, but not on Monobunny or any other living participants.


7. New rules may be added in the future should the need arise.



Breaking any of the rules will result in extreme punishment!


Monobunny read through each of the rules in turn, emphasizing the threat of punishment. I skimmed through the list, not feeling the need to listen as each line was repeated in that sinister tone. Knowing that everyone around me, everyone I was presumably stuck with for the time being knew exactly how much of a (as my introduction had worded it) nobody I was, and amongst such exemplary ponies had sunk my heart. I could handle how much of a failure I was in solitude, in secret, in a contained world of my own making. I didn’t like the fact, but it could be dealt with. In the presence of so many, though, I could feel the immense weight of judgement pull me further into the abyss. I sat in silence as the rest of the group discussed the rules.

“Wait,” Elsie said, adjusting her glasses. “Unicorns aren’t allowed to use spells? What kind of racist, anti-horn nonsense is that?”

“I see your point,” Mesmer began, “but still, our biggest issue remains being here in the first place against our will.”

“Well it’s still racist,” Elsie huffed. “Why are we being singled out? Where’s the rule that says pegasi can’t fly? And what does it mean by ‘punishment’?” 

“Didn’t that rabbit thing say it was a game?” Copper piped up. “Whatever it is, maybe being able to cast whatever spells you want gives you an unfair advantage? Most sports have rules of that kind, right Antonio?”

“Ah! P-please, call me Reph,” Reph replied shakily. “A-and you’re right. The majority of professional sports d-disallow magic except under specific circumstances, as well as flight. P-plus, some have different divisions b-between the races p-purely in the name of fairness and equality, so I wouldn’t immediately assume the rules are racist.”

Elsie snorted and turned up her nose. “Well whatever. But what’s this game about anyway?”

“I’m glad you asked!” 

A circular hole opened up in the middle of the room and out leapt a two-foot tall rabbit that we all immediately recognized. He struck a triumphant pose as the hole closed back up with a metallic clang. I could hardly believe my eyes. I had assumed that the Monobunny from the video was merely an animated cartoon character, but here he was, walking and talking in front of me, retaining the exact appearance from before. 

“He’s real!” Pinkie cried, rubbing her eyes and staring in shock. “But how’s it even possible? I’ve seen tons of bunnies but no bunny that ever looked like this bunny!”

“This is too freaky!” Button exclaimed, pushing his back against the wall. “I wanna go home!”

“Some sort of trick?” Shetland mused, stroking his chin. “Like a puppet or a hologram?”

“It’s no trick!” Monobunny snarled, raising a fist. “I’m as real as real can be! I am Monobunny the game-master, and you are all my chosen contestants!”

“And what if we refuse to play?” Doctor Scalpel asked.

“You don’t have a choice in the matter!” came the response. “And anyway, I have a feeling you’ll all want to take part. For you see, the grand prize, only attainable by one lucky contender, is your freedom!”

Everyone was stunned. “F-freedom?” stuttered Inky, shaking her head in disbelief. “We have to win this game of yours, or we’re stuck here?”

“I knew it!” screamed Button. “We’re gonna die here, chained up in this room! The only way out is to eat through our own legs!”

“Oh, no, no, no,” said Monobunny, shaking his head. “I’ll let you out of those things in a minute. What I mean is, freedom to the outside world! You see, this here is just the initialization room, but soon you’ll have access to the dome. It has a hotel, personal rooms for each of you, swimming pool, dining area, plus there’s the handy dandy convenience store, the MonoMonoMart! You’ll have access to as much food, drink and other various items absolutely for free! No money required!”

“Ooh, sounds fancy,” said Pinkie, who now seemed in unusually high spirits. The informational video was certainly right about her in that regard. 

“It sure is! But on the off chance you want to leave here to see your loved ones again, there’s one thing you need to do.”

“What’s that?” Dopple asked.

“Murder someone.”

Silence fell in an instant. I involuntarily held my breath, the severity of the situation finally dawning on me. This is what we’d been chosen for, what Monobunny (or whoever had set this up) had planned.

Inky chortled nervously. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m deadly serious.” He crossed his arms and pulled a malicious grin. “You have to murder someone here without being found out as the culprit. If you can manage that, hey presto! You get to leave here and go back into the outside world. Unfortunately for everyone else, however, as soon as someone wins, that’s it! The game is over, and anyone who’s left will die, choked to death by poisonous gas, drifting slowly to an eternal sleep... However, if you murder someone but are found guilty by the rest of the group, you get to experience an agonizing death! Then the game will continue with the remaining participants. Over and over again until the game comes to a close.”

“This can’t be happening,” Dish Panner mumbled, slowly rocking back and forth and hyperventilating. “This is just… twisted!”

“Oh, quit your whining!” Monobunny snapped, leaping in front of Dish Panner and scaring the life out of the hysterical mare. “There are more rules to go through and you all need to pay attention! 

“First of all, a murderer can only kill a maximum of two participants. Otherwise you could go around stabbing ponies left and right and not give anyone a chance to investigate the crime! 

“Secondly, as soon as a dead body is discovered by three participants, including the murderer, a body discovery announcement will be broadcast throughout the entire dome and let everyone know where it is. You’ll then have a set amount of time to look for clues before the murder trial begins! Also, no murder is allowed to take place once the body discovery announcement has been broadcast.

“Thirdly, if the number of remaining participants ever drops to five or less, the game is over. But as a little consolation, the remaining participants won’t have to suffer immediate death. Instead, I’ll just stop restocking the MonoMonoMart with food and beverages, and you’ll all stay trapped in the dome and eventually starve. I’d put your time at around five months or so. That is, unless you don’t go insane and start killing each other! However, at this point, you won’t be able to escape even if you do get away with murder.

“Finally, this game has something I like to call the ‘Accountability Clause.’ It states that in order to distinguish between a murder and accidental suicide as per the rules of the game, a death is ruled as a suicide if the victim could have only died by performing an avoidable and grossly risky action. For example, if you trap someone in a room with a knife and they stab themselves to death, that’s suicide! But if you trap someone in a room and a wall of spikes that you’ve rigged slams into them, that’s murder! Similarly, if someone’s about to eat some soup and you poison it while their back is turned, or you swap out someone’s bottle of water for a bottle of poison and they drink it, that’s murder! But if you just leave a random bottle of poison hanging around in a room somewhere and some idiot decides to drink it, that’s suicide! And you’re not allowed to poison anything contained within the MonoMonoMart or you’ll be punished! All produce there must be safe for consumption! These rules are there to prevent any cheap, cheesy, risk-free, and above all, boring murders from taking place. That’s the last thing anyone wants!”

It was all so much to take in. I’d have to kill to have any chance of escape? Any one of us could be out to commit murder? We’d have to figure out who was guilty or we’d all die? And the game would keep going and going until a winner was found? I felt sick to my stomach. 

“I get it now,” Mesmer said, retaining his ever-present, stern gaze. “This is why unicorns aren’t allowed to use advanced spells or they’d have an unfair advantage.”

“That’s your thought!?” Elsie screamed, shooting Mesmer an enraged look. “That’s all you can say!? We’re stuck in this deranged, sick fantasy being held captive by a creepy rabbit, and you’re pondering the rules!? What is wrong with you!?”

“I’m just looking at this logically,” Mesmer said calmly. “If we are indeed stuck playing this ‘game,’ we mustn’t panic. We need to clear our heads and act accordingly.” He turned to address Monobunny. “I’m assuming any of these ‘punishments’ you hand out for breaking the rules means death, correct?”

“Oh, no, no, no. Breaking any of the rules will just result in you having one of your limbs sliced clean off! I’m not so harsh as to kill one of you for a tiny slip up.”

“Oh, well isn’t that nice!?” Elsie spat.

“Hey, I’m not all that bad. In fact, there’s one rule you’ll all be pleased to hear. Provided you adhere to all of the previous rules, you’re allowed to try and escape to your heart’s content! No exceptions. Try digging a hole through the wall if you must. It’s one hundred percent A-okay!”

“And why should we listen to you?” Yoko Zuna snarled, stepping forward and towering over Monobunny. “What’s to stop us from just beating you into submission?”

“Careful!” Shetland warned. “Don’t forget he managed to capture us all and bring us here. Him and whoever’s on his side, they managed to overpower all of us, even you.”

“They got me when my guard was down.” Yoko cocked his head arrogantly and smiled. “I won’t let that happen again.”

“Go ahead!” Monobunny taunted. “If you feel like staying here while everyone else goes to the dome.”

Just as he said this a series of shrill beeps rang out, followed by the latches on our shackles springing open and clattering against the metal floor. I instinctively reached down to my hind leg and rubbed at the previously clamped area. It had chafed painfully against my knee joint. I looked up and saw that the same was true for everyone else except Yoko, whose confident demeanor had subtly dropped. 

“Well? What’ll it be? You promise to play nice? Or I can leave you chained up in here to rot!”

“Fine,” Yoko said with a smirk. “I’ll be good.”

“Excellent!” Monobunny cheered. Yoko’s shackle beeped and unlocked itself. It was scary to consider how much power the villainous rabbit had over us. “Now I think we’ve all been in this stuffy little room for quite long enough.” 

Suddenly, there was a tremendous rumbling sound. The far wall that held the monitor began to judder violently and a beam of blinding white light appeared along the ceiling edge. Squinting, I could make out a hazy blue sky before us as the wall slid into the ground. There was a mechanical clunk as the top section of the wall locked into place at ground level, the outside world in full view, beckoning us forward. It took a few seconds for my eyes to fully adjust until I could make out the scene clearly. 

“Welcome to the dome!” Monobunny said as he walked out in front of us. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to give you the grand tour. Follow me!”

The rest of the group began to shuffle out, muttering between themselves. I tentatively followed, keeping several feet behind everyone else. I didn’t want to be left alone but I was too nervous to embed myself into the crowd. It had been a long time since I’d interacted with strangers, and even longer since I’d been expected to hold a conversation. Even considering the terrifying circumstances I was in, and the bigger problems I was now faced with, I still couldn’t break free of my social anxiety. It just so happened, though, that I noticed something strange. I did a quick count and, sure enough, I realized that the room we’d been held in had sixteen shackles bolted to the wall. Yet there were only fifteen of us, including myself. Given the elaborate nature of our capture, the sheer effort involved and Monobunny’s dramatic speech about the rules, it seemed strange that an extra shackle would’ve been installed purely by mistake. Someone was missing. 

“You okay over there?” I looked up to see a white-maned pegasus mare with light yellow fur. “It’s Greyscale, right?”

“Y-yeah…” I stammered, speaking for the first time since my arrival. I could feel heat running to my face and tried to shake it off. “A-and you’re Dopple Ganger?”

The mare smiled. “Please, Dopple will do just fine. I think we need to go.”

“Oh, yeah, right. Sorry, I was just checking in here because, erm…”

“You realized too, huh?” Dopple grew serious and stepped within whispering distance. “The extra shackle?” 

I nodded. “Yeah.”

Dopple sighed before smiling once more. “Let’s not think about it. Come on, we’d better get moving.”

The two of us left the room and joined the rest of the group. The lowered wall juddered into life once more, rising into place and closing over the hole. There was no going back.
> The Grand Tour
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

What had initially appeared to be the clear blue sky of the outside world was just an illusion. True to its name, the dome was exactly that, an enormous hemisphere of metal and concrete, its outer walls painted sky blue with the occasional cloud formed from brush strokes and the ground painted in a soft, pastel green. The ‘sun’ was just an artificial light that protruded from the dome’s apex, basking the area in a warm glow.

To my right was a rectangular, three-story brick and mortar building lined with square windows. It had just one visible entrance, a set of ornate, mahogany double doors flanked either side by two white stone pillars. The words ‘DOME HOTEL’ were etched into the wood above a carved portrait of Monobunny, his face split down the middle where the two doors met. Leading up to it was a small set of pristine, white marble steps. The building looked decidedly modern and well kept, with a flat concrete roof lined with security cameras and bright, polished window frames. 

Stood around fifty feet opposite was a similarly built, but slightly smaller single-story building, its entrance directly facing the hotel. The roof was pyramid-shaped and covered in greyish tiles. Metal struts propped up a large sign that read ‘MonoMonoMart’ in bold red letters. In the corner was a picture of Monobunny giving a thumbs-up with the words ‘Quality products guaranteed! Certified by MonoMono industries!’ coming from a speech bubble. As with the hotel, there were numerous security cameras protruding from the outer walls. Who could possibly be watching? I wondered. 

Between the two buildings were two plastic picnic tables, each surrounded by four garden chairs and with a bright red and yellow parasol protruding from the middle. Off at the far edge of the dome was an odd-looking bronze statue of a saluting earth pony stallion atop a marble plinth. Hovering directly above it was a single cloud – the only real one that I could see. 

There didn’t appear to be any kind of flora or fauna in the area, no trees, no bushes, no animal life, and (what scared me the most by far) no openings or windows on the walls of the dome itself. What lay outside was a complete mystery. I shuddered at the implications. 

However, one item in the dome stood out: a massive iron door bordered with black and yellow hazard tape to the left of the MonoMonoMart, the word ‘EXIT’ displayed clearly on a digital display hanging above it. Rather than feel hopeful at the sight of this, I only felt more despair. I knew there was no way it could be that easy. Monobunny wouldn’t just trap us here so we could waltz right out, and the fact he’d made an emphasized point about us having free reign to try and escape without threat of punishment solidified my fear. He had to be taunting us. This, however, seemed to go over the heads of Yoko, Inky and Button, who had rushed over to the door in an excited frenzy.

“Woohoo!” cheered Inky, throwing up a hoof triumphantly. “Screw you, rabbit, and your stupid game. We’re getting out of here!” 

Button tried in vain to push the door open before standing back, looking over it pensively. “There has to be some kind of trick! What if there’s a magic key somewhere, or a passcode?” He stood on his hind legs and raised his hooves to the sky in a form of mock ritual. “Open… sesame!” The door responded in kind by not budging an inch.

“Stand back, little one!” Yoko cried, motioning for Button to clear the way. “I’ll break this thing down!” He trotted backwards to give himself some space, the pawed at the ground like an angry bull. He tensed his body and sprang into action, sprinting full-pelt at the door with a speed that betrayed his immense size. Despite charging with the force of a locomotive he crashed spectacularly against the door with a metallic clang echoing throughout the dome. Not even a dent. 

“You idiot,” Shetland chided, shaking his head. “Of course you can’t just force it open! That’s a cast-iron, industrial barricade!”

“And it’s fifteen inches thick, too!” Monobunny added. “Not much short of a nuclear blast could break this baby open! But you’re welcome to keep trying. Like I said before, I have no objections to escape attempts!”

Because there is no escape, I thought somberly. I’d secretly hoped this was all just an elaborate prank, but every passing moment hammered an extra nail into the coffin. 

“Pah.” Yoko sprang back to his hooves and spit to one side. “You call me an idiot, Shitland, but I don’t see you coming up with any bright ideas. In fact, you seem all too co-operative.” Yoko grinned mischievously. “Seems kinda suspicious if you ask me.”

Shetland’s face flared with anger, a vein popping out above his eyeline and his neck muscles pulsing violently. “You watch what you say.”

“Oho… Is that some kind of threat?” Yoko chuckled. “What are you gonna do, officer? Arrest me for pointing out the truth?”

“You think I’m scared of you, wrestler?”

“Come on,” Mesmer said, stepping between the two stallions. “Both of you, just stop it.” He glared back and forth between Yoko and Shetland. “Let’s just take a look around and find out what we’re dealing with. Then we’ll work together to escape.”

“Fine,” Shetland said, backing away. Despite his tone becoming calmer his face was still flush with anger. “Let’s get this over with.”

“No problem,” Yoko said with a shrug. 

“First stop, the hotel!” Monobunny cried, hopping joyfully up the steps and opening the door. As everyone filed through – Yoko and Shetland staying at opposite ends of the group – I heard Inky whisper under her breath, “Shitland,” to which both she and Pinkie had to hold their sides to suppress an attack of the giggles. 

“But what if it’s like, a haunted hotel!?” Button exclaimed. “I’ve played Jockey Tower; I know where this is going!”

“Oh, don’t worry my little colt,” Maribelle said soothingly, her thick Chevalian accent becoming immediately apparent. She wrapped her forehooves around Button’s midsection and pulled him into a tight hug. Since she was wearing a frilly black dress, similar to that of a traditional maid outfit, albeit one that draped over her legs, the scene was oddly suggestive. “I shall be there to protect you, little Button. Don’t you worry at all.”

Button’s body went completely limp, his eyes glazed over and his cheeks reddening to near bursting point. “Thank you,” he said dreamily, a dopey grin plastered on his face. He was released from the hug and excitedly followed Maribelle inside. Admittedly, I could imagine my own response to such treatment would’ve been similar, in part due to – I must admit this fact – Maribelle’s positively astonishing beauty. While I could somewhat discern her physical attributes despite her clothing, it did leave plenty to the imagination. 

I was pulled from my reverie by Dopple’s hoof waving in front of my eyes. “You coming?”

My heart skipped a beat at that question. I saw that everyone else had already gone inside. “Y-yeah, sorry.” 

We filed into the hotel foyer, Monobunny leading the way. The floor was a cold, reflective marble with a black and white checkerboard pattern and the walls were painted a soft magnolia. From the ceiling hung a gold-coated fan light, spinning lazily with a low hum. True to the appearance of the exterior of the building there were two ceiling-mounted security cameras in each of the far corners, giving a clear view of the entrance. To the right was a small wooden helpdesk on which stood nothing but a brass reception bell and a small sign which read ‘Ring for assistance.’ 

“If anyone ever needs to get a hold of me, just ring this bell!”

“Well that’s a relief,” Sanscript muttered under his breath. “That means we won’t always have to put up with you.”

“I can’t hang around with you guys and gals all the time, you know?” Monobunny said, eliciting a nervous flinch from Sanscript who didn’t think he’d been heard. “I have to leave you to your own devices so the killings can start!”

On the wall opposite the entrance was a series of framed maps, one for each of the three floors of the hotel. 


Hotel Floor 1

Hotel Floor 2

Hotel Floor 3


Most of the rooms were designated to a specific pony, which I quickly assumed was what the individual keycards hung around our necks were for, a similar setup to an actual hotel. Given the danger of our current situation I concluded that having a safe place to sleep that nobody else had access to was of utmost importance. 

The first floor listed eight participant rooms as well as a janitor’s room, laundry room and dining room/ kitchen. My room was on the second floor with six others, plus a recreation room and library. Curiously, there was a single room without a description, and I considered it might be a control room for the security camera feeds. If that was the case, there had to be someone watching. I made a mental note of its location and checked the other maps.

One showed the entirety of the dome, albeit with little detail outside of what we’d seen thus far when we’d stepped out of the holding chamber. The hotel, the shop, the statue, the exit. There was nothing new or interesting to garner from it. However, the map for the third floor had me immediately befuddled, as perfectly encapsulated by Elsie’s well-timed outburst.

“What is this!?” Elsie blasted, pointing angrily at the map. “The humdrum décor and paltry color choices I could just about stomach, b-b-but...!” She took a deep breath. “A swimming pool? On the top floor? Do you know how many issues that raises!?”

“It does seem a bizarre choice,” Sanscript added, peering closer at the map. “However, I can’t say I was expecting this place to make complete sense, considering where we all started.”

“That’s not the point!” Elsie blared. “We’re talking structural integrity, the possibility of water leakage, unnecessary upkeep, plus the absolutely disastrous overall layout of this place. It’s a complete and utter mess!”

Mesmer rolled his eyes. “Come on. We’re wasting time talking nonsense.” He pressed on through the right-hand door with Monobunny racing after him.

“Hey! I’m the one leading the tour!”

The rest of us followed after them, I myself getting dragged along into the center of the group as we walked along the corridor. The walls were covered in a lime-green wallpaper with vertical stripes while the carpet was a thin and fibrous sky blue. “Just horrid!” came Elsie’s comment from towards the front of the pack. As expected, a number of security cameras hung from the ceiling. It would soon turn out that this was true of every area of the dome.

“Hey,” Yoko said, pointing to a door along the right-hand side. “This is me!” A stylized, pixelated version of Yoko was ingrained into the wooden door panel, depicting him from a profile perspective. Instead of a doorknob or handle there was a grey, metallic pad with a plastic black strip embedded into the door. Yoko swiped his neck-bound keycard onto the pad and a there was a small blip followed by the door’s lock disengaging. Yoko smiled to himself and began to step inside.

“You back there!” Monobunny fumed. He bounded towards Yoko and pulled the door shut in one swift motion. The door collided with Yoko’s head and the stallion recoiled with a grunt. “You can go back to your room after I’ve given you the tour! Just settle down and be…” Monobunny trailed off as he noticed Pinkie Pie wandering up ahead into her room, a spring in her step. “Get back here!” he bellowed, and before anyone could realize what he was doing, had zigzagged through the tangle of ponies and into Pinkie’s room. A second later he emerged, pulling Pinkie by the tail as the mare’s four hooves screeched across the floor. Finally, he tossed her outside and slammed the door shut. “Can’t you all just wait until the tour is over!? There’s no escape pod in your rooms, believe me! Just be patient and you can do whatever you want!”

As Monobunny forged ahead, followed by Mesmer, Shetland and the rest of us, Pinkie frowned worriedly. “There are cameras in my room, too.”

“Same here,” Yoko added. “I could see it above the bed.”

“That’s sick,” Elsie muttered. “Watching us while we sleep? Just sick.”

The rest of the tour of the first two floors happened without much incident, nobody else attempting to gain access to their personal rooms given Yoko and Pinkie’s treatment. As expected, each personal room had a similar pixelated image of the relevant participant in the exact same place designated by the maps in the entrance lobby. Monobunny instead made sure to point out the location of other important areas such as the dining room, with built in tables, stools and leather seating jutting from the wall. The aesthetic was very diner-like, with a small kitchen situated at its corner. Our visit was fleeting, however, as Monobunny seemed to be in a hurry to cover the rest of the hotel.

Looking to everyone else, it seemed liked the majority were following orders out of convenience, like penguins leaping after their flock for fear of being left behind. Mesmer and Shetland, however, stood at the forefront, the former taking stern aspect of his surroundings with a concerned glance before receding, while the latter barreled feverishly around, appearing more and more agitated with each passing moment. My two guesses were that they were either determined to find some kind of escape route, (which I found difficult to believe in in the first place) or they had other, more sinister motives to consider. 

The first floor also housed a laundry room full of boxy, old-style washing machines and dryers. The floor was made up of small white tiles, and there were two central pillars from floor to ceiling between which a flat bench sat. The room was needlessly large from my perspective, as few of us were wearing clothing. Maribelle had her (presumably) maid outfit, Shetland wore a small police polo shirt and Dish Panner wore a smart black gown, but that was it. There may have been towels or possibly pajamas to worry about, but the sheer number of washers and dryers was excessive to say the least. I wondered if that meant something important.

There was also a small utility room with cleaning supplies and some cupboards for storage. The size of our group made it difficult to all shuffle in to each space, and I mostly just peered into each room to orient myself with the placings shown on the maps. With the layout checking out as expected, I knew my next goal: the unmarked room on the second floor. 

At Monobunny’s request (any apparent rebellion against his directive had simmered down due to his unnatural ability to maneuver Yoko and Pinkie, a feat which made me once again question exactly what Monobunny really was and what he was capable of) we plodded up the stairs in twos (except for Yoko who couldn’t fit in the walkway beside another pony) the sound of our hooves against the paneled hardwood resembling a military march. I was near the front of the group with only Shetland, Mesmer, Copper and Dr. Scalpel before me and Dopple at my left side. My plan was to immediately break from the crowd and head to the mystery room, ready to bust open an important clue. If anything, it would show that I was someone to be relied on.

My heart sank as I was beaten to the punch. Shetland, Mesmer, Dopple and Dr. Scalpel had headed straight there the moment they’d reached the second floor while Copper looked on warily, keeping close to Monobunny. The rabbit looked as if he had anticipated this and stood with his paws crossed, facing the landing.

The door was just the same as every other guest room but with one key difference – there was no pixelated image of the supposed occupant. Instead, the door was plain mahogany without an image or unique pattern of any kind.

Shetland pressed his keycard up against the grey pad first. No sound or light was emitted, and upon trying to push open the door it wouldn’t budge. He motioned for Mesmer to attempt it but the result was the same. Dr. Scalpel tried next and again, nothing. Already I could feel that my spark of genius, my almighty deduction was just a moment of naïve excitement. I backed away as more from the group began to crowd around.

“It’s that room!” Sanscript noted. “The one that was left blank on the map.”

“W-well, what’s he hiding in there?” Reph added. 

“Whatever it is,” Yoko said, “We could always break the door down!”

“I think the rules state,” Mesmer said, “that breaking any of the locks would result in punishment, so I would advise against it.” He turned towards Monobunny. “Who has access to this room?”

“Why, nobody!” the rabbit said gleefully. 

“Is that a codeword?” Button Mash asked, tearing himself away from Maribelle’s side for the first time since they’d entered the hotel. “When he says ‘nobody,’ does that mean it’s your room?” He walked up and pointed directly at me. I felt my cheeks flush at the mention of that word. Ultimate Nobody. So of course, even the teenager of the group had remembered that. They all knew now, of course. There was no getting around the fact I was the most pathetic and worthless one here. I only wish Monobunny could’ve lied to them. 

“I’ve had it on certain games,” Button continued, staring off into space. “You come to a new area, there’s a puzzle to solve, and you’ve got a scroll with a riddle on it, and sometimes there’s a codeword that you might miss.” He nodded, assuring himself of his logic. “So if nobody can get in, maybe you can?”

The way he had so innocently uttered that word unsettled me. I could feel everyone else’s eyes on me, waiting for me to make a move. I was now the center of attention and it made me weak at the knees. My plan had been to get to this room, and now I didn’t want to go near it, just in case Button was right. 

I felt a hoof on my left shoulder and flinched instinctively. “Go on,” Dopple said, flashing a quick smile. “We’ll all try it, just to be sure.”

I took a deep breath and smiled back, thankful for the support but still on edge. I walked up to the door and pressed my keycard to the reader. Nothing. I sighed and stepped aside, feeling a slight relief. Everyone else lined up to try as I leaned against the wall.

“I already told you, nobody can get in!” Monobunny growled. “But I guess I’ll allow this since technically you’re all doing this to find an escape route, and that’s encouraged, so I’ll let it slide. But once you’ve all wasted your time it’s back to the tour!” He shook his head. “There’s nothing in there of use, anyway.”

“Why should we trust what you say?” Elsie asked haughtily. “You could be lying about this whole thing!”

“I’ll have you know I never lie! Lying is completely against my nature. The most crippling despair of all is that which comes from the truth! If I just lied all the time this game would be no fun.”

“So if we ask you a question,” Yoko said, “you have to tell us the truth?”

“No way!” Monobunny blared, shaking his head. “Telling a lie and concealing the truth are two very different things! I can’t go telling you everything or it’ll ruin the game! A nice, healthy balance between knowledge and wonder is the best way. Because with wonder comes hope! And when hope fails as the truth is revealed, that’s the recipe for ultimate despair!” He began to stroll down the hallway. “Now, now, you’ve all had your turn with that door. It’s time to move! Follow me to the gym!”

As we followed Monobunny along the corridor – a near identical replica of the first floor in terms of décor and color scheme, each and every aspect in an utmost prime and perfect condition – I couldn’t help but feel there was sense in believing what he had said. In his position as game master of something so heinous and terrible, it would only serve to his advantage that we would learn to trust his word over the words of each other. Trust had to be earned and being fed lies was the easiest way to lose that trust. By trusting him and distrusting each other, we would begin to view him as an unopposable constant rather than a common enemy. The only way to prevent this was for everyone to trust in each other, but this was nigh impossible. And that was what gave Monobunny power beyond anything else. For a moment I desperately hoped he was lying, but then I considered that thought fell perfectly in line with his so-called recipe for ultimate despair. I didn’t know what to think, and that frightened me more than anything.

The gym looked more like something you’d expect in a school than in a hotel, with squeaky-clean laminated wood-paneled flooring and three tin lampshades lined along its middle, lighting the room. The ceiling was a few feet higher than any previous rooms with high archways of metal beams placed at either side. The walls were bare brick, a stark contrast from the decorative wallpaper and white plaster anywhere else. 

At the right-hand wall were two treadmills and two pedal machines while at the left-hand wall was a collection of barbell weights propped up on a metal rack and a lifting bench. Beside those were two MDF pillars, between which was a metal bar a little above head height, presumably for pullups. Also present was a balance beam and vaulting horse, plus a stack of a dozen or so blue safety mats. All in all, it made me wonder just how much money had been put into this “game.” Everything looked brand new, and there had to be an ambitious level of planning, construction and furnishing involved. Even if this was already an ordinary hotel before Monobunny (or whoever) had commandeered it, and even if the MonoMart was already part of a pre-existing tourist complex, the dome itself would still have needed to be built to house it all. This wasn’t the same as throwing us into an abandoned building and boxing us in; this had needed the influence of someone rich enough, powerful enough, influential enough and crazy enough to pull off. 

“Now this is what I’m talking about!” Yoko said cheerily, taking a deep breath and looking around the room. “I was starting to get worried I’d have to skimp on my training regiment. Can’t let this godly body turn to mush!” He picked up one of the dumbbells from the weight rack and began pumping it in quick succession with his right foreleg. 

The tour continued to the library which looked as expected: three aisles of wooden bookshelves packed with various hardbacks, paperbacks, leather tomes and boxed sets of all sizes. This time it was Sanscript’s turn to get excited as he paced along the closest row, running his hoof along the spines and mouthing to himself. Button was meanwhile marveling over a collection of graphic novels on a smaller bookstand, showing them off to Maribelle as the mare looked on with a believable level of feigned interest.

I browsed the nearby shelves, noticing a novel or two that I’d already read. It didn’t excite me all that much to have such a breadth of reading material at my disposal, even if I’d been a somewhat avid reader. It might’ve been as close to a passion as I’d managed in my humdrum life, but being stuck in this abnormal scenario had lessened the appeal for fictional escapism. We left quickly.

The recreation room was our last stop on the second floor, a cozy space with two faux leather sofas facing each other and an oblong-shaped table between them taking up the right-hand side of the room. To the left-hand side was an old-school pinball machine (themed after the popular movie Barn Wars) and a contemporary cabinet topped with playing cards and board games like Monopony, Galaxy Wagon and Memoir ’69. 

Just to the left, on the wall opposite the door was a fireplace protected by a large, bronze-coated guard. Metal cages of tinder, logs and coal sat beside it with gold-plated pokers and tongs hung up on hooks. The surrounding cladding was traditional speckled white stone that stretched up to the ceiling (the map had indicated that there was space above this spot for the chimney) and the mantlepiece held three ceramic ornaments, all variations of Monobunny striking a different pose. The right-hand wall had a long, head-high window that looked out on the fake, painted sky of the dome’s inside. Elsie was visibly unimpressed, as per usual. 

Next we were led up to the third and final floor, Monobunny stopping at the crossroads and facing the landing. “I hope you’re all listening carefully as this floor has a particular rule that I’ve not mentioned yet.” The group arranged themselves in a semicircle around him. “It is vital that upon reaching this floor, all the males head to the left and all the females head to the right. That should lead you to your respective locker rooms for the swimming area.”

“E-excuse me,” Reph said, raising a hoof. “What should that matter? As far as changing into bathing suits and the like, it’s not like we can’t already see each other as Celestia intended.” The last comment had me immediately curious, but I didn’t speak up. It wasn’t beyond comprehension to assume I was ill-informed of the sayings of certain provinces or cultures. 

“For one, not everyone holds the same viewpoints as you do! It’s traditional here in the dome for separate changing areas to exist, and more than that, if you enter the wrong area, you die.”

A lump formed in my throat. Dopple spoke up. “How? How would we die?”

“Why, by machine gun of course!” Monobunny replied gleefully. The crowd looked amongst each other. “If all the stallions would like to follow me to the left while the mares wait here for a moment, I’d be glad to explain!” He began hopping off down the left-hand corridor.

“Guess we’d better do what he says,” Shetland sighed, walking after him. The rest of the stallions followed reluctantly, Maribelle giving a quick goodbye to Button to assure him that they’d be reunited shortly. I instinctively looked towards Dopple and quickly turned back as our eyes met. The locker room was ahead. 

As soon as we all saw it, we knew. Monobunny wasn’t bluffing. A door stood before us, much like any other door with a keycard reader. The difference was, beside it, connected by a black metal supporting arm and pointing directly at the door, hung a security camera. Attached to its side was something unmistakable: a chain-gun with a long coil of ammunition. 

“The locks to each locker room will only allow specific participants to enter, which means only stallions on this side and only mares on the other side. And as an added security precaution, if the camera should ever see anyone trying to get into the incorrect locker room, this machine gun will mow then down, no compromises!” He then pointed to a digital display above the door, showing the time to be 16:23. Next to it was a sign that read ‘Swimming pool opening times: 07:00 – 18:00’ “The same is also true if you try getting in while the pool is not officially open, so make sure you follow the rules or you’ll be cut to ribbons!”

I stared directly down the barrel of the gun, an intense fear that it would spring to life at any moment washing over me. Button, Sanscript and Reph shrank back.

“And just in case you’re wondering, it’s positively impossible to move fast enough to avoid being shot. Go ahead and try it if you like but you’ll never move faster than my cameras can see.” He looked back and forth to each of us. “Well, come on! You’re all stallions here, so you can get inside no problem! You have my word.” With that, he gestured towards the door.

Nobody moved for several seconds until Mesmer finally stepped forward. “It’s not like we have much choice,” he said as he stepped in front of the line of fire. I saw him subtly flinch as he neared the machine gun, his air of coolness faltering for just a moment. We all grew tense as he pressed his keycard into place and the door allowed entry. He walked on through and the rest of us tentatively followed, keeping our eyes on the death machine that was primed and ready to go. We all walked inside without incident and breathed a collective sigh of relief. 

The locker room itself contained two rows of tall, thin, metallic green lockers that stood opposite each other. Each had a small keycard reader and a name plaque in the center, one for each stallion present. Common sense dictated that each lock required its own unique card, which appeared to be the case as Reph and Button opened up their own but were unable to open any others. Shetland followed suit and confirmed the fact. 

“Right,” Shetland said, moving to the corner of the room and directing his attention to everyone else. “Let’s all open up our lockers. We need to be sure of what we’re dealing with here.” We all followed suit, revealing nothing but empty lockers in the process. “Now I need to check something. Monobunny?”

“Right here!”

“You said before that breaking or tampering with locks was prohibited, but does that also include things connected to them?”

Monobunny scratched his head dramatically. “Well I guess not technically but, what are you getting at?”

“The hinges on these lockers,” Shetland said. “Provided the locks themselves remain functional, wouldn’t it be possible to tear the doors off by their hinges without disobeying the rules?”

“Well that’s…” Monobunny tensed up his paws and stomped angrily at the ground. “Okay, yes! Fine! I concede! You’ve got me! Tearing the doors off by their hinges won’t incur punishment, but I still don’t like it!”

“What is the point of this?” Sanscript asked. “What difference does it make?”

“I understand,” Mesmer said. “These lockers could be used to conceal weapons and other dangerous items. It’s a communal area too, so it’s rife for a potential murder to occur. By removing them, that can’t happen. Isn’t that right?”

“Precisely,” Shetland affirmed. “So if you’ll all keep your lockers open, we’ll get to it.”

Yoko let out a snide chuckle. “You really think you’re the boss around here? Telling us what to do like you’re protecting us when really you just like controlling others.”

Shetland frowned and squared up to Yoko. Next to just about anyone else, the pegasus would’ve been a towering, burly chunk of toned muscle with an immense power of intimidation. He was one of the largest and most well-built ponies I’d ever met, but he was still a few inches shorter and significantly slimmer than Yoko’s hulking frame of fat and muscle. 

“Listen here!” Shetland bellowed. “You might be too stupid to see it, but I’m keeping order and calm here in a time of great need! We all need to be on the same team if we’re to get out of here!”

“Nice speech,” Yoko said, rolling his eyes, “but I’m not convinced. Who put you in charge, anyway?”

“You think you could do a better job, wrestler? Do you know who I am? Do you know what I’ve had to deal with in the past!?” Shetland raised his right foreleg and for a split second, I thought we were about to witness a brawl break out. Instead, he swiftly and angrily reached into the pocket on his polo shirt and removed a leather pouch. He opened it up to reveal a gleaming golden badge. Yoko looked at it, unimpressed.

“This!” Shetland said, holding the badge to Yoko’s face, “is the sign that I have what it takes to be in charge! Over a decade of sweat, blood and tears protecting Equestria’s citizens from degenerate scum. Do you know how many officers and citizens I’ve saved from gun-toting maniacs? How many operations I carried out to bring down drug rings? Then there’s the foal trafficking. Terrorist groups. Ponies at the end of their rope who grab any weapon they can find and go on a rampage. I’ve seen things that’d turn your insides out and plague you with nightmares for the rest of your days. I raised through the ranks of the force and brought a reign of terror for would-be criminals and I saved more citizens than you’ll probably ever meet. Though I had my team behind me, it was my leadership that brought out the best in them.”

Yoko’s bravado fell for a moment. He seemed genuinely affected by Shetland’s speech. However, his trademark smirk quickly returned and he sighed. “Well okay,” he said, shrugging. “We’ll see how well you do.”

Shetland nodded. “You don’t have to like me, wrestler. The feeling is mutual there. But regardless of what we think of each other, I’m committed to saving as many as I can, no matter what. That is my mission in life, even if it means saving someone with an attitude like yours.” He turned to the rest of us. “We remove the locker doors without damaging the magnetic locks. That way, none of us have the potential to hide weapons in here. Are we all clear?”

The rest of us nodded. Button raised his hoof. “Um, how are we meant to do that? I don’t think I can even bend them.” He prodded at his open door unsurely.

“It’s fine,” Shetland replied. “I’ll do it.” With that, he grasped Button’s door between his hooves and bent its top half. Then he applied force next to the hinges, the metal bowing out of shape. With another quick yank, the door was pried away from its hinges and ripped away completely. Shetland tossed it into the corner and started again on the next one.

“You look like you struggled with that one,” Yoko chided. “This is how it should be.” He took his own door, put a hoof at its back, clamped his teeth down at its top and wrenched the door off in one quick, animalistic action. He yawned theatrically and threw the door into the same corner. 

Shetland’s face tensed up and his wing feathers ruffled with rage. “This isn’t a competition!” he roared. “I was trying to be careful, but whatever! You want proof I’m stronger than that!?” He took the next door and pulled at it ferociously, breaking it free within a matter of seconds. Yoko was busy tearing the rest away, counting audibly with each one.

“J-just calm down, you two!” Reph cried. “We need to k-keep a cool head and not get messed up in foalish nonsense!”

Reph’s protests fell on deaf ears. By the end of it, with all seven doors piled up, Yoko pushed out his chest triumphantly. “Four over three, but I must admit, you did your best, leader.”

Shetland snorted. “Keep talking it up, wrestler. You’re only making yourself look more suspicious by the second.”

Monobunny stepped back from the wall he was leaning on and sighed. “Now are you all quite finished desecrating my wonderful hotel? Come on! The tour isn’t finished!”

“Oh yeah,” Button said, smiling. “I almost forgot we were going to the pool. Normally I don’t worry myself with physical exercise, but pools are different! I wonder if Maribelle will swim with me, that way she’d finally take that outfit off.” The doors to the pool resembled classic saloon doors, two wooden panels forming an arched shape that could be pushed open from either side. Button leaped through, only to glance to his left and scream. He immediately jumped back inside the locker room, hyperventilating. 

“What is it?” Sanscript asked.

“It’s another machine gun! We’re trapped like rats!”

Shetland peeked outside and instantly recoiled, ducking his head back behind the doorframe. 

“Just go out the door already!” Monobunny ordered. “Of course there’s another machine gun out there. Otherwise you stallions and mares could get into each other’s locker rooms from the inside. Oh, and just like the one you saw before, these work on the same principle. If they see anyone entering the wrong locker room, ratta-tat-tat! You’re swiss cheese! Of course, all of you here are safe, so make a move!”

Shetland begrudgingly followed as Monobunny leaped into the pool area and the rest of us followed suit. Sure enough, in the corner sat a large camcorder on a tripod, next to which sat a monstrous machine gun, ammunition coiled around its base. I looked to the right and saw that another one was in the opposite corner aiming at the doorway to the female locker room. 

I took a look around the room, gazing at the clear, rippling water reflecting and refracting the pristine blue tiles that surrounded it. The smell of chlorine was oddly pleasant. I could recall only a few times when I’d gone swimming in my life, and those were limited to school trips. I was just barely able to swim. After all, there was no reason for me to be any good. I could never afford to visit a beach or swimming pool, not that I felt particularly inclined. 

In that moment I felt a strange turmoil build up inside me. As contradictory as it was, I began to feel an air of luxury and reward for simply being here. I reminded myself that we were all prisoners, all slaves to a terrible game of life and death where murder was the only chance of escape. I told myself this over and over again, leering at the other stallions and considering that any one of them could potentially end my life. At the same time, however, I was now in a place that I could never have dreamed of visiting. A gym? A pool? A dining area? A store that gave away food for free? What would I have done if I hadn’t been captured? Probably left out on the streets to freeze in the winter or hurled into a jail cell and left to rot. Either that or I’d have leapt from my apartment window and made modern art on the pavement, desperate to avoid some terrible fate. Everyone else here had fallen from grace, but I was already in the gutter beforehand, just barely able to survive. I had no-one to interact with, no-one to follow or form a bond. But now there was no getting around it; I couldn’t possibly be lonely with the fourteen others around me. I pondered if being dragged into this mess was a blessing or a curse. Whatever it was, I didn’t miss home. 

The mares came in next led by Pinkie Pie, who excitedly gasped upon entry and began clambering up the ladder to a diving board on the side next to the female locker room. She arrived at the top and began bouncing up and down gleefully. Then she let out an excited cheer, jumped, tucked into a ball and hit the water with an almighty splash. When she surfaced she spurt water into the air like a fountain, backstroking to the other end.

“Pinkie!” Inky cried. “I told you the water might be acid but you just jumped in without checking!”

“Nuh-uh!” Pinkie retorted. “If there was this much acid it would sting my eyes just by being near it. Also, wouldn’t it be super expensive to fill an entire pool with acid? Where would you even get all that from? And it’d eat through the grout in between the tiles so unless someone dumped it all in here just a second ago, which by the looks of things they couldn’t have done, it just wouldn’t be the case.”

Inky raised an eyebrow, looking befuddled. “But how do you know that?”

“The windows,” Pinkie said, pointing upwards. Above the wall opposite the locker rooms was a series of windows to the outside, positioned a few meters out of reach near the area’s high ceiling. “There are handles on the inside, but not the outside. They’re closed now, which means nopony on the outside could have snuck in with buckets or troughs or whatever and then locked the windows behind themselves.” She smiled contentedly. “And anyway, a pool’s a pool! We can’t go getting paranoid about every little thing now, can’t we?”

I was surprised at Pinkie’s display of logic but even more surprised by a particular word she’d used. It was Dish Panner who confronted her, however. “Pinkie, I’d mind if you didn’t use such language.”

Pinkie looked genuinely perplexed. “I… have no idea what you mean.”

Dish Panner sighed. It appeared several others had also been caught off-guard by Pinkie’s slip up, especially Inky for reasons that I thought obvious. “I’m afraid,” Dish Panner began, “that despite what you may be accustomed to, it is extremely rude to use words like ‘nopony’ and ‘somepony’ in this day and age. You’re cutting zebras, griffons and other species out of the equation by saying that. Instead say ‘nobody’ and ‘somebody.’ It’s more inclusive.” 

Pinkie stopped swimming for a moment and merely floated, taken aback. “Wait, don’t tell me I was being…” She gulped. “Racist?”

“You may not have meant it,” Dish Panner continued, “but many would consider that to be the case. None of us here shall reprimand you as your upbringing is none of our business, but in future could you please use the more accepted terms?”

Pinkie clambered out of the water, her usually joyful demeanor drained completely. “I… I had no idea,” she muttered. Then, tears forming at her eyes, she leapt towards Inky and gave the mare an intense hug. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be insensitive! I’ve always said ‘nopony’ and nopon… I mean, nobody said I was wrong! Please, please accept my apology! I promise to do better! I don’t think less of zebras, honest!”

“It’s f-fine,” Inky croaked, her neck almost crushed by Pinkie’s embrace. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

Pinkie let go and began sobbing, Inky consoling her. I had to wonder where Pinkie came from that those particular words were still in use. In my entire life I’d only ever heard the word ‘somepony’ used in a derogatory manner. It was common knowledge, I thought, that such language was considered inappropriate. I chalked it up to either a secluded upbringing or a fringe culture that hadn’t adopted non-pony-specific words, neither of which were Pinkie’s fault. 

Within a minute or so Monobunny insisted on us leaving, so we obliged, heading through the gender-specific locker rooms and once again past the terrifying machine guns. Our last stop was the MonoMonoMart opposite the hotel, an all-purpose store where everything was free. It sounded too good to be true.

We walked back outside the hotel, past the picnic tables and arrived at our destination. Much like the swimming area, a sign with the words ‘Opening times: 07:00 – 20:00’ was next to the entrance along with a digital clock above the doorway, now reading 16:57. The doors were automatic and slid open as we approached the welcome mat, a short jingle playing over the store’s speaker system followed by the words “Welcome to MonoMonoMart” in a posh mare’s voice.

“Like I told you earlier,” Monobunny said, “everything here is completely free! That’s the MonoMonoMart’s price promise!”

I stepped inside and froze in awe. It was even better than I could have imagined. Rows and rows of aisles were lined up along each side packed to the brim with all kinds of food, drink and various knick-knacks of all kinds. Directly in front were rows of wicker baskets filled with fruit and vegetables. I stepped up to a pile of apples for inspection. Each and every one I picked up was plump and appetizing, not a single rotten specimen among them. The same was true for everything else from potatoes to parsnips to bananas and more. In my old life I could have only dreamed of such things and now I had it all for the taking?

And that wasn’t all. Stacked on aisles were boxes of cakes, potato chips, rice crackers, biscuits, loaves of bread and all kinds of confectionary. Along the wall was a line of refrigerators filled with fruit juice, milk, fizzy drinks, wine, beer and cider. On the shelves next to it were bottles of whiskey, rum and other spirits. An important thing to note, however, was that everything in the store bore unique packaging with pictures of Monobunny and names such as ‘MonoVodka’ and ‘MonoBread.’ A nearby box of cereal had Monobunny delving into a bowl of corn flakes with a black and white spoon, milk spilling over the sides of the bowl. My immense shock and elation quickly turned sour as I considered the ramifications. To simply stock this volume of items would require immense wealth and power. To stock an entire store with uniquely branded items would require something more, something unprecedented. It was absolutely unbelievable and yet here I was, standing in the middle of it. I looked up at the security cameras placed along the ceiling. Who the hell is watching and what do you want? I wondered. But I feared I already knew the answer.

Everyone had entered the store now, a bevvy of gasps and mutterings emanating throughout the group. Sanscript and Reph were too stunned to move, merely gawping at the sight before them. Pinkie Pie grabbed Inky by the hoof and ran around in a frenzy, squealing with delight at each new discovery. Maribelle was prying Button away from the alcohol section while the colt whined about how this was his “one and only chance.” 

I began milling about, venturing further towards the rear of the store. There were scented candles, toiletries and even cologne amongst other things. But it was what was waiting for me at the far end that stopped me dead in my tracks. Shetland, Dr. Scalpel, Elsie and Mesmer were there too, looking on worriedly. This was the hardware section. Hanging along the wall were lump hammers, crowbars, wrenches, hacksaws, giant screwdrivers, coils of rope and – most unsettling of all – large kitchen knives, serrated blades and pairs of shears hanging from a rack. It was a veritable treasure trove of diabolical murder weapons ready and waiting. Everything here is completely free! I felt sick to my stomach.

“I knew we’d find something like this,” Shetland said gravely. “The question is how we stop anyone from getting ahold of it.”

“Unless we set up constant patrols,” Scalpel said, “we couldn’t possibly.”

“It might be something to consider,” Shetland said. “I’m thinking of holding a meeting tomorrow morning so we can discuss things like this. We should also make sure nobody takes anything while we’re here now.”

“It's sickening,” Elsie commented, turning away. “The way they’re all so shiny and giant and grotesque, propped up like vile monoliths.”

“Oh?” Mesmer said. “Are you saying you’d rather an easy to conceal pocket knife was available?” He bore his gaze into Elsie’s skull.

“O-of course not!” Elsie stammered, her cheeks glowing. “I meant nothing of the sort! It’s just the mere sight of these things is horrific!”

“Awww…” Monobunny had popped seemingly from nowhere and given the unicorn mare a deadly fright. “Are you saying you don’t like my special little collection? They’re all top quality stainless steel! Only the biggest and best, most terrifying, most monstrous, sharpest, stabbiest, slashiest, skull-shattering, bone-crunching weapons are good enough for my lovely participants! Pocket knives?” Monobunny mimicked a disgusted spit at the ground. “Are for pathetic cowards! Murder should be spectacular and cinematic, not sneaky and boring! As a side note, stashing away murder tools or hiding things by swallowing them is also disallowed! Otherwise we’d need to slice you open to find the clues and that just creates problems! Trust me, it’s happened.”

“You little freak!” Elsie screeched, storming towards him. “I don’t see why we don’t just–”

Shetland held her back forcibly. “Calm yourself,” he said. “Attacking him isn’t a good idea. We don’t know what could happen. Right now our goal is to survive and escape from this place, together.”

It might have been my imagination but I sensed a slight quiver in Shetland’s voice as he spoke. It was as if he didn’t truly believe what he’d said. Escaping together. I wondered if such a thing was even possible. It seemed much more likely that Monobunny was entirely correct. The only way out of here was to kill and leave everyone else to die. And anyone here could be desperate enough to do just that.

I backed away from the scene, trying to get my thoughts in order. I walked past tins of paint, paint rollers, packets of nails, screws, tubes of glue and other DIY equipment. It was all so much, too much, as if offering us all the means to live in this cursed place forever. That didn’t seem so bad, but there was no way everyone else felt the same way. Anyone could snap. I turned a corner and immediately eyed a plastic tray containing something familiar. I froze, a recent memory flashing through my mind.

“Yes indeed!” Monobunny cried. I turned around to see him addressing me specifically. Everyone else was busy elsewhere.

“What do you want?” I asked, not hoping for an answer but having nothing else to say. 

“I was just wondering how long it’d be before you found these. After all, you had plenty in your apartment!”

I flinched. It was easy to forget that every ounce of my privacy had been breached. He knew everything there was to know. In the medicine cabinet in my bathroom was a number of razor blades.

“I like to keep some of these around just in case any participants want to ‘check out’ of the game. Just remember, across the street keeps you alive but down the road you’ll surely die! Perhaps you’ll finally go through with it this time, eh? You wouldn’t be the first and I’m sure you won’t be the last! Pu-hu-hu-hu-hu!”

I stormed away, too emotional to even react. It was true. I’d contemplated suicide numerous times only to back out at the last moment. It was only through sheer laziness and cowardice that I’d kept on living, a hunk of meat breathing oxygen and digesting food, a waste of space. I truly was the Ultimate Nobody. I hadn’t realized I was hyperventilating until I began coughing loudly. Feeling faint, I took a breather beside a frozen food cabinet. I wanted rest.

“Greyscale?” came a voice. I looked up. It was Dopple. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” I answered. “This is all a bit much.” I thought for a moment, not wanting to reveal what Monobunny had said to me. “Did you see all that stuff by the rear wall?”

Dopple nodded. “Yes. Knives, hammers and other weapons.” She sat next to me. I felt my heart leap for a moment as one of her wings brushed against me, then she sat upright and that was no more. She sighed deeply, looking to the floor. “We have to be cautious. By the way, can I ask you something?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

“When you went into the locker room on your side, was Monobunny with you?”

I thought back. “Yeah, he was there the whole time, I think. He was angry because Shetland wanted to remove all the locker doors. I remember it clearly.”

“That’s interesting,” Dopple replied, frowning. “He was with us as well.”

I turned to her in shock. “But that’s impossible! He was with us and…” Then it dawned on me.

“Right. There’s more than one.” Dopple checked around us to see if anyone else was eavesdropping. “There could be any number of them, as many as they need.”

I gulped. “They?”

“The ones in control. The ones watching us over the cameras. I don’t know what Monobunny is, maybe some kind of magical construct or a shapeshifter of some kind, but I don’t think he’s in charge. Or perhaps Monobunny is in charge, the real one, and his lackeys take care of things in here. Otherwise, wouldn’t it be a huge risk for him?”

It all made sense. The logic was sound. Monobunny, whatever he was, had help from another source. Not only that, but there were multiples of him. Was it two? Four? Twenty? A thousand? It would be impossible to know. Just then, a thought flashed across my mind, something beyond terrifying. I shook as I turned to Dopple. “Monobunny said something to me.”

“What was it?”

“He said something about…” I trailed off, not wanting to allude to his comments about suicide. “He said it wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last. I don’t think this is the first time this has happened.” Dopple’s face grew serious as I continued. “I think this whole scenario – this killing game – has happened before. And if he has his way, it’ll happen again.”
> First Night
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The group left the store soon after, some carrying various items out. Pinkie Pie had grabbed a rubber ring with a pink graffiti pattern and was already in the process of blowing it up as she walked towards the hotel. Inky was carrying a crate of beer on her back and a bottle of rum in her mouth, which had her struggling until Dr. Scalpel offered to help out, levitating the crate with ease. Dish Panner and Maribelle each held large straw bags filled with fruit and vegetables, Yoko behind them carrying a massive bag of rice and several packets of frozen dumplings. Elsie and Mesmer each took large bottles of water and Copper took some bags of pretzels and savory snacks. Button had tried to sneak out with a jug of cider but was quickly caught by Maribelle and ordered to put it back. Nobody else took anything. Dopple and I decided it would be best not to speak of our discussion for fear of sending everyone else into a panic. Spirits seemed to be generally quite high given the circumstances, and we didn’t want that to fall apart. I suspected for most of us here, the true ramifications of our situation had yet to truly dawn on them.

Monobunny declared that the tour was finally over, and that he’d only show up when necessary. In a flash he scurried away out of sight, leaving us to our own devices. Shetland decided that we should all meet up in the dining room on the first floor, to which everyone agreed. Now that we understood our situation it was time to discuss our options and fill our stomachs. Upon entering the dining hall there was a hurried discussion between certain members, with the fear of murder in the air. The food was the main cause for concern.

“Poison the food?” Dish Panner scoffed, looking offended. “I would never do such a thing!”

“All things considered,” Shetland said, hoofing through the various bags, “we can’t be too careful. You can take offense to it if you want but I say we shouldn’t allow just one of us go in the kitchen alone, especially if you’re cooking for a group of us.”

“Maribelle was going to help,” Dish Panner said.

“That’s still a bit of a risk,” Shetland replied. “We need at least three.”

“I’ll stand watch,” Dr. Scalpel offered.

“And I’ll help!” Yoko beamed, motioning to his own food stash. “I’m actually a pretty decent cook, I’ll have you know. I’ll whip up something special in no time!”

“Okay,” Shetland said. “Four of you can keep an eye on each other. That way there’s no chance of… anything untoward happening.”

Dish Panner tutted. “I still don’t know what you’re fretting for. It’s not like we’re going to find rat poison lying about in a kitchen. But fine, four of us working will get things done quicker.”

The four self-appointed cooks went through into the kitchen area while the rest of us took our seats on one of the cherry-red leather seating and similarly colored stools. Added to the checker-tiled floor and rounded tables it looked very much like a classic diner. Even the entrance doors were made of glass with bronze-coated handles across their entire width. I sat in the corner nearest the kitchen and was quickly surrounded, Dopple taking the space to my right, Copper to my left and Button one space further, with Pinkie and Inky taking the nearby stools. I had to contain my anxiety at being in close proximity to so many mares. Copper in particular was rather close, and now that I was sat next to her I could appreciate just how lithe and curvy she was. Not that Dopple was all that bad either, especially with her silky white mane. Steady on, I told myself, feeling my heart race faster.

“Who wants beer?” Inky declared, holding up a can bearing Monobunny’s eerie resemblance. “Catch ‘em before they get cold!”

“Oh, me! Me!” Button cried, holding up his forelegs.

Inky looked around her and turned back to Button. “No, Button!” she said loudly, shaking her head while smiling mischievously. “You absolutely cannot have any alcohol, and that is final!” She winked at Button and handed him a beer can, holding a hoof to her lips to call for his silence. Pinkie was struggling not to burst into giggles.

“Oh thank– I mean, oh, what a shame,” Button said, winking back. “It’s fine. I won’t drink any beer then.” He pulled the tab – the can emitting a faint hiss – and took a large gulp. He smiled for a moment, then scrunched his face up in disgust and swallowed. “That was horrible!” he said, sticking out his tongue. “That’s what adults like? Ugh… I’m never drinking beer ever again!”

“Eh, you’ll grow to like it,” Inky said, chugging from a can of her own. “Any of you want one? Copper? Dopple? Greyscale, was it?”

“Um, yes,” I answered.

“Good going!” Inky said, pushing a beer can towards me. “At least someone’s up for letting their mane down.”

“Oh, um, thank you,” I muttered, deciding not to mention that I’d only answered ‘yes’ to say that she’d got my name right, not that I wanted anything to drink. Feeling Inky’s eyes on me I opened the can and took a sip. It was surprisingly decent.

“All this talk of murders and whatnot,” Inky began, sliding a can to Pinkie, “is going to get us nowhere. We should all relax, make the most of what this place has to offer then all band together and high-tail it out of here!”

“Agreed!” Pinkie said cheerfully, the two mares pushing their cans together as a toast.

“Isn’t that overly optimistic?” Copper said. “Putting your trust in complete strangers?”

“Maybe,” Pinkie replied. She tapped her chin thoughtfully and smiled. “But I have a secret weapon that I can rely on at such a time: my Pinkie sense.”

“Pinkie sense?” Copper repeated back, confused. “If you mean your own intuition then you’re being delusional. Gut feelings and instincts can be wrong all the time, and you’re more likely to remember the times you just so happened to be right and forget all those times you were wrong. It’s equine nature.”

“I understand,” Pinkie said, shrugging. “You’re not convinced. Nobody is at first, but they learn soon enough.”

Our conversation was brought to a brief halt as Dish Panner came out of the kitchen looking distressed. “There’s no cutlery in there!” she cried. “I can’t even chop an onion if I don’t have a knife!”

“Uh, th-there were some at the MonoMart,” Reph stuttered. 

Shetland walked to the center of the room, shaking his head. “No. Nobody is going back to the MonoMart, especially not for a knife. We’re all sticking together until at least eight o’ clock, past the store’s opening hours. Are you absolutely certain there isn’t one in the kitchen?”

“Not even a potato peeler,” Dish Panner replied. “You’re welcome to look.”

Shetland followed Dish Panner into the kitchen and exited soon after, confirming that there were indeed no dangerous utensils to be found. “Once we’ve had something to eat,” he said, addressing everyone, “we’ll discuss our plans.”

“What plans?” I heard Copper whisper. “We can’t even get through the exit door.”

“That may be so,” Pinkie said, “but I’m confident we’ll be out of here in a jiffy. I have friends in pretty high places, and once they realize I’m gone they’ll all coming running. That creepy little bunny rabbit won’t know what hit him!”

“Right,” Copper said, rolling her eyes. “The cavalry will be here any minute.” 

I sipped casually on my beer, unsure what to say. Between Pinkie’s optimism and Copper’s pessimism, I felt more inclined to believe in the latter. But at the same time, it didn’t hurt to have a little hope. I was already enjoying myself more than I had the past month. Even with my social anxiety and the burden of my pitiful life being known to everyone, there was something nice about being sat in a dining hall, surrounded by others who were in the same boat. It felt comforting to know that I wasn’t alone anymore.

Yoko soon emerged from the kitchen carrying a massive serving bowl of rice topped with peppers, dumplings, and red sauce. He sat down at one of the other tables, nudging Reph and Sanscript out of place with his girth. He rubbed his hooves together and began to dig in, loudly scarfing down the meal.

“Excuse me!” Elsie chided. “I thought you were making food for everyone? You even said you were a good cook!”

“I was bluffing,” Yoko said, his cheeks puffed with rice. “Sorting out meals for a group this size would take too long and I’m starving!” He tore through another mouthful. “Maribelle said they’d be finished soon.”

Within a few minutes Dr. Scalpel began levitating an assortment of bowls from the kitchen and placing them on each of the three tables. There was a selection of rice, vegetable medley, fruit salad and boiled roast potato wedges coated in pepper. Next, we all received a plate each with which to dish out our meal. With the delicious offerings in front of me I only just came to realize how hungry I’d been all this time. I dished myself up some potatoes and assorted veg and bit precariously into a roasted carrot. It was delicious. As if zapped by electricity I delved into my food without abandon, my adoration of the flavor expressed in short, approving hums. I couldn’t have even dreamed of eating such exquisite food in my old life. This was a blessing! My senses were singing! I was alive!

I reached for the bowl of fruit salad and finally awoke to my surroundings. Pinkie was engrossed in her own meal but Inky, Button, Copper and Dopple were staring at me with mixed expressions. Button seemed wary, Inky looked amused, but in Copper and Dopple I saw a hint of… pity? I blushed, suddenly overwhelmed by the attention. “W-what? Do I have something on my face?”

Inky shook her head, grinning. “No, nothing like that.”

I still didn’t understand. I looked at Dopple. She’d turned by this point and was eating silently. 

“I sincerely apologize,” I heard Dish Panner say from the adjacent table. “I could’ve made a far superior meal for us all, but without any proper utensils and meagre variety we were tremendously limited.”

“It’s fine,” Sanscript replied, levitating an apple chunk into his mouth. 

“No, no it’s not fine,” Dish Panner said defiantly. “I’ve torn apart dishes that were light-years ahead of this tripe! I should have realized, should have planned ahead, but no, all we have is this bland, pathetic excuse for food. Ah… no offense, Maribelle. Your help was still greatly appreciated.”

“We shall do much better next time,” Maribelle said cheerfully. “I just hope Officer Shetland allows us the proper equipment. Excuse me for one moment.”

Maribelle came over to our table and set next to Button, giving the colt a welcoming hug and reminding him to eat up so he could be big and strong. I didn’t listen to anything else. The realization had struck another blow to my soul. The food I was eating wasn’t anything special at all. That was okay; I was elated to eat something I found so unbearably tasty, even if by normal standards it wasn’t much. The difference was that everyone knew. They could tell just by watching me. They already knew I was the Ultimate Nobody with no redeeming features, but now they could piece the rest of the puzzle together, what little there was. They pitied me. They found me amusing. They looked down on me. And there was nothing I could do to push back the tide. Surrounded by fourteen in a busy dining hall, I was ever so alone. I felt like crying. 

“Okay, everyone,” Shetland said, standing in front of the entrance doors and gesturing with his hoof for quiet. “As you’re all aware we’ve been dropped into a very precarious situation.”

“No shit,” Copper whispered. 

“I expect many of you are tremendously afraid. After all – and I won’t beat around the bush – Monobunny wants us to commit murder.” The low mumblings from others fell eerily silent. “He wants us to kill each other, offering the supposed prize of freedom to anyone who can complete his task without being found out.” Shetland stamped one hoof angrily. “We cannot let him get away with it.”

“S-so we all gang up on him?” Reph asked.

Elsie sighed annoyedly. “That’s what I’ve been wanting to do this whole time but I keep getting told it’s dangerous. We should strike!”

“No,” Shetland said. “Even with all of us combined it could be too risky. Something tells me he’s even more deadly than he lets on. And what’s to say he’s even alone? With all these cameras around there could be someone waiting in the wings to take us down, even if we did subdue him.”

Dopple and I exchanged worried glances. We’d already deduced the existence of multiple Monobunnies.  

“We need a different approach,” Shetland continued. “Starting tomorrow morning we work together to find an escape route. I know we tried that exit door earlier with no success, but it doesn’t mean there isn’t a secret way out!”

“Can you be sure?” Reph asked hopefully. “I mean, w-we’re in a dome made of stone! What way out is there?” 

“I don’t know. But if we want any degree of success we must work together.” Shetland closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath through his nostrils. “I have dedicated my life to saving others and this situation is no different. More than anything, no matter what, I want to save as many innocent lives as I possibly can. It is my life’s work, my sworn duty. I guess it is what earned me the supposed title of Ultimate Police Officer.” He grew deadly serious as he spoke. “I’m not asking you all to believe in one another completely; that would be an impossible ask for a bunch of strangers. You’re all thinking it: ‘I can trust no-one.’ ‘Anyone could be a killer.’ And you’re not wrong in thinking those things, but even so we must work as a team and end this twisted game. 

“From now on we function as a unit. We take every precaution necessary to prevent any potential murder, regardless of the inconvenience. We develop a regime that allows us the utmost level of safety and in doing so, work towards finding a way out. We keep track of each other. We look out for each other. We find the flaw in Monobunny’s plan. And most importantly of all…” He paused for a moment looking to each of us. “We keep calm. We don’t panic. We tell each other about any suspicious activity, however trivial it may seem. Dish Panner?”

The earth pony mare was startled to attention. “Yes?”

“I know you spoke about bringing cooking utensils into the kitchen, but for now we’ll have to make do without. Not until we have a system in place that we can all agree on.”

“I understand,” Dish Panner said, nodding.

“Tomorrow morning,” Shetland continued, “we’ll all meet here at eight o’ clock so we can discuss this further. I have ideas, but I’m looking for all your input as well. For now we should avoid being alone as much as possible.”

Button timidly raised a hoof. “Um, I have a question. Where can I go to the bathroom? I haven’t seen one since we’ve been here!”

“Not to worry,” Pinkie said. “When I peeked into my room earlier, I’m pretty sure there was a bathroom. I assume it’s the same for everyone.”

“My room is just opposite this dining hall,” Shetland said. “I’ll let you use mine. I’m not comfortable letting you wander off. The same goes for everyone else. At least for the moment, we shouldn’t split up.”

Shetland escorted Button to the bathroom, leaving his room door wide open and standing where he could be seen through the glass dining room doors.

“Shetland makes me hopeful,” Pinkie said cheerfully as she sipped beer. 

“Oh I see,” Inky said, grinning mischievously. “You’ve got the hots for the muscle-bound officer! I knew he was your type!”

Pinkie shook her head. “No, that’s not it. I really think he’s a great leader for us. We need someone like him.”

“I know he talks the talk,” Copper said worriedly, “but can we really trust him?”

“I do,” Pinkie said matter-of-factly. “That speech he made about wanting to save others more than anything? He meant every word of it. I can tell whenever someone’s lying and he definitely wasn’t.”

Copper sighed. “You can just tell, huh? Talk about being naïve.”

“It’s Pinkie sense,” Pinkie retorted. “Ever since I was young I had these odd sensations and premonitions. I could sense if something was about to fall out of the sky and various other things. As I’ve gotten older I’ve honed my senses and… voila! I can always tell if someone is lying. Also, I can usually detect what someone’s deepest, most heartfelt intentions are, and so I can tell for sure that Shetland is true to his word. Protecting the innocent means everything to him. So long as he’s around this should be plain sailing!”

“I don’t believe you,” Copper said, standing up. “I can’t tell if you’re messing with us or you’re just crazy. Whichever one it is, I’m not interested in continuing this conversation. Excuse me.” Copper walked away from the table and sat beside Dish Panner, her back facing us.

“How rude!” Inky said. “Just what is her problem?”

“She was lying,” Pinkie said, smiling. “She doesn’t believe me one hundred percent, but she’s still worried that I can read her mind and learn all her secrets. But I can’t read minds at all, I just know when someone’s being dishonest.”

“That’s amazing!” Inky exclaimed. “Oh, oh, do me! Try and guess if I tell the truth! Um,” Inky rubbed at her temples. “Maribelle! Ask me who I like!”

The earth pony mare looked confused for a moment. “Oh, um… Who is it that you like?”

“Well.” Inky began to blush, her lips pulled into a tight grin and her forelegs curled up around her. “There’s this really gorgeous mare with a bouncy pink mane who I can’t get out of my head. I brought a bunch of beer from the MonoMart so we could get drunk together and maybe, I don’t know…”

“Nope,” Pinkie said, smiling. “You like Sanscript. You don’t even like mares.”

Inky’s jaw dropped and her two hooves began to tremble in place. “But how did you…?” 

“I don’t think I even needed Pinkie sense for that one,” Pinkie chuckled. “I saw you checking him out earlier. Also, you’re a lousy liar.”

Inky shook some more and then hung her head in defeat. “Okay, you’re right.” She quickly looked over her shoulder in Sanscript’s direction. He was sat in the corner talking to Mesmer and Elsie. “Do you, you know, think he likes me?” 

“I don’t know,” Pinkie answered. “I could ask him if you like.”

“No! No, you can’t do that!” Inky protested. She rubbed her hooves together nervously. “I don’t get it. I normally go for the punk rocker, living-on-the-edge kind of guy. But Sanscript has this kind of smug, scholarly vibe that just gets me. I feel like he’d give me a lecture on classic literature and then throw chalk at me when I can’t answer his question, and then he’d book me in for detention and I’d be all like ‘what am I supposed to do, sir?’ and he’d be all like ‘you need to learn your lesson!’ and then he’d push me over the desk and take a wooden ruler and say ‘this is what stupid, dirty mares like you deserve!’ and then he’d spank my flank over and over and I’d…” Inky quickly jolted back to reality as an awkward silence set in. I looked away, too embarrassed to meet her gaze. She gulped. “Oh, sorry. Guess I got carried away.”

Button returned from his bathroom visit, resting against Maribelle because he was ‘too tired’ despite looking awakened and fresh. As Maribelle consoled him my thoughts turned to what Pinkie had said. I wasn’t at all convinced in this mystical ‘Pinkie sense’, but it was apparent that the mare had an intellect and awareness that belied her foalish nature. On Shetland, I could understand her reasoning and belief in him, and it made complete sense if he was truly the Ultimate Police Officer. The only thing I couldn’t understand was her optimism. Even with the guidance of a great leader, could we really find an escape route? Assuming Monobunny – or whoever had masterminded this ordeal – knew what they were doing, there would be no way out whatsoever. As for Copper, I felt Pinkie might have been bluffing. Copper had every reason to be skeptical and it was merely Pinkie’s word against hers. 

I considered the unicorn-specific rule pertaining to the banning of spells beyond simple levitation. For starters, I’d read about all manner of special horn clasps that prevented the user from casting spells. Given the scope of the dome and everything inside, plus our capture, it should be easy for someone so rich and powerful to obtain a few horn clasps to prevent potentially powerful magic users from breaking out. Instead, as Monobunny had put it, he was relying on the feeds from the security cameras to detect if someone was using an illegal spell and punish them by severing a limb. It was a far, far riskier alternative than simply preventing the act in the first place. It almost seemed like he wanted someone to try breaking the rule, offering that little glimmer of hope and freedom, a chance to strike back, a terrible oversight by the mastermind that would be their downfall… Only to then be cut down. The only way to know for sure was for one of the present unicorns – Mesmer, Elsie, Sanscript or Scalpel – to test that theory. It would be a huge risk.

I looked around the room. Everyone was either in high spirits or seemed relatively calm. Was it because reality hadn’t sunk in yet, or were they truly hopeful that this was all just a minor setback? We’d only been stuck here a few hours; would we still be this way if we were stuck here for days? Weeks? Months? How long before someone snapped? Everyone had their limit. Not to mention, I was at the bottom of the barrel. Who could feel all that guilty about slaying the Ultimate Nobody? I took another beer from the table. If the dome was to be my tomb then I might as well enjoy myself while I had the chance. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, Maribelle,” Inky began, “what the deal is with your getup? You one of those gothic lolita types or does your hubby have a huge maid fetish?”

“I don’t know what you mean by that,” Maribelle said calmly. “This is traditional clothing in my country. Do you not like it?”

“Of course I like it!” Inky exclaimed. “It looks great on you! Plus, you’re positively stunning. You must get a lot of attention, huh?”

“I guess so,” Maribelle said. “I get lots of requests.” 

“What!?” Button cried, looking horrified.

“Oh-ho! I knew it!” Inky said, winking. “You really get around?”

Maribelle nodded. “I get requests from all over Equestria. Lots of families want me to take care of their homes and look after the little ones. It’s hard work – a lot of cooking, cleaning, washing, preparing – but I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. Playing with the foals, reading them bedtime stories, going for walks with the dogs and travelling across the country…” She sighed contentedly and smiled. “It’s just wonderful.”

Pinkie snorted with laughter, spluttering her mouthful of beer. Button wiped at his forehead and fell back into his seat with relief. 

“N-no,” Inky stammered. “I meant you must get a lot of attention from stallions. I mean, you surely have a boyfriend, right?”

Maribelle’s face turned a stark shade of beetroot and she began toying with her mane. “No,” she said meekly. “Of course not. I would never have time for that.”

My heart quivered as I watched the slender, beautiful mare instantly turn into an adorable, innocent creature. I felt a sudden impulse to throw my forelegs around her and hold her tight, to feel her warmth and run my hoof down her back caringly. Thankfully, or not so thankfully, I didn’t have the guts to move even an inch closer. It was an aggravating sensation.

“You can’t be serious,” Inky said, her mouth agape. “A mare like you is single?” She sighed and put a hoof under her chin. “But you’re so sexy!”

Maribelle burned an even brighter red and hid her face behind her hooves. It was so cute it made my chest ache. “Th-thank you,” she stammered. 

“Or… Do you have someone back home waiting for you?” It was clear Inky wasn’t letting this go despite Maribelle’s obvious embarrassment. “Come on, you must have had some kind of romantic experience?”

“W-well…” Maribelle’s lip quivered. “It’s not something I ever talk about, but there was one special pony whom I loved very much.” She straightened herself up. “I haven’t seen him since that night. I still think about it to this day.”

“Okay!” Inky exclaimed. “Now you’ve got to spill the beans. What happened on this special night? It’s best we all get to know each other, right?”

“Inky,” Dopple said, stepping in. “I don’t think you should be pressuring Maribelle like this.”

“No, it’s okay,” Maribelle said, lightly shaking her head. She had stopped trembling. “It’s something I’ve kept to myself for some time, and it’s such a fond memory, perhaps I may overcome my fear if I relive it once again. Inky is right, we should get to know each other.” She exhaled deeply. “His name was Lance Good-Thrust.”

The group froze. “Um…” Inky smiled awkwardly. “Is that a joke, or–” 

“I had watched him from afar for many moons,” Maribelle continued. “I first met him when he moved to the area, only a few doors down from my house. I liked him straight away. He was so kind and confident that I got flustered whenever I was around him and didn’t know what to say. I wanted to spend more time with him but was too nervous to ask for his company. When I look back, I think he was just as nervous as I was but did his best to hide it.

“Once, I was at my local market buying some fresh bread when he called my name. He was with his family and wanted to introduce me. He said I was his ‘friend,’ and suggested we see each other again. I was overwhelmed. He invited me to an upcoming festival, one in which everyone takes part in a dance. I was so excited and spent the next two weeks looking for something to wear, and eventually I settled on a pink silk dress.”

Maribelle’s face grew sullen. “I never went to the festival. The night before I came down with a terrible fever. My mother took care of me, and while I begged her and begged her to let me go she forbid me from it. I was in a dreadful state, so it was for the best. Still, I had waited for what seemed like forever and now my chance was gone. I was so disappointed that I cried myself to sleep that night. It was the worst feeling in the world. 

“I didn’t see him again for a while after that. I began to think that he was avoiding me, that he thought I had rejected him. I would walk past his house and think of knocking but I was too scared. I tried to forget all about him, but it did not work. I would lie awake at night whispering his name to myself, hoping that somehow he could hear me.

“About a month later I was invited to a friend’s birthday party. She was quite rich, and her family had a big farmhouse that they used for gatherings. I went along and discovered that many from the town had been invited. It was all too much for me and I found myself drowned in a sea of ponies. I milled around the buffet tables and accidentally knocked into someone and spilled her drink. She and her friends got angry with me, started calling me names pushing me around. One of them threw her drink in my face and ruined my dress. They all laughed at me, so I ran away. I ended up in a barn, hid myself behind a stack of hay and cried my eyes out. More than ever I wanted Lance by my side.

“Then, something amazing happened. I heard someone come inside, I opened my eyes and there was Lance, standing in front of me! He had been at the party the whole time! ‘Maribelle!’ he said. ‘I saw what they did to you.’ I couldn’t control myself. I ran towards him and threw my legs around his neck. We fell into the hay and he ran his hoof through my mane, telling me everything was going to be okay. I kept apologizing to him for missing the festival, telling him how much I had wanted to see him. ‘It makes me so happy for you to say that,’ he said. ‘But I have some bad news.’ It turned out he was due to move to another city far away the very next day. I cursed myself for having wasted so many chances. Now he was moving away and I might never see him again.”

Maribelle sighed deeply, enraptured in her memory. I had only just noticed that the room had gotten remarkably quieter. At some point, many from the other tables had begun listening in on Maribelle’s story.

“After all the time we spent wanting to be with one another, this would be the last time we were together. I guess it was a gift from the heavens. If he hadn’t seen me at the party we might never have met again, so I am eternally grateful for that. Against all odds we were finally completely alone, and our feelings spilled out of us. We lay down in the hay and spoke of all the things we had wanted to do together, the places we wanted to go, the things we wanted to see. We constructed imaginary dates and trips around the world together. But the night was drawing near and our time together was about to end. We had to make the most of it.”

Inky whistled approvingly. “I’m guessing I know what happened next.” 

A tear formed in Maribelle’s eye. “We spread out some hay to make it more comfortable and threw ourselves onto it. He was ever so gentle. And then we… We…” Maribelle closed her eyes and smiled. “We held hooves and watched the sun set.”

Nobody spoke for several seconds. Finally, Inky said, “And then?”

“Well, we each had to go home after that. It was getting late.”

More awkward silence. “That’s it?” Inky asked. “No smooching? No hanky-flanky?”

“Well of course not,” Maribelle said. “We were only nine years old at the time.”

Pinkie erupted into giggles while Inky stared blankly into space. I couldn’t help but do the same. A smattering of chortles could be heard throughout the room. Dopple instead applauded softly. “That was a wonderful story, Maribelle,” she said. “Very heartwarming.”

Pinkie contained her giggles and coughed to hide them. “Yes, I agree. It couldn’t help but, erm, laugh with joy for you!”

“Thank you,” Maribelle replied. “But it also pains me. I never saw him since that day.”

Button’s face was contorted into a monstrous scowl. He slammed a hoof down on the table ragefully. “He… held her hoof! If I ever find him, I’ll… do something!”

“I think he’d like you very much,” Maribelle said, ruffling Button’s mane. “You remind me of him a little.”

“I do!?” Button perked up instantaneously. “Wow. That’s the best news I’ve had all day!”

“Ugh,” Inky groaned, leaning her head back dramatically. “I was getting so into it, too! What a disappointment.” She turned to Pinkie. “What about you, Pinkie? Surely you’ve got some juicy stories of your own? You strike me as a real dark horse!”

“Nope,” Pinkie said cheerfully. “No stories of any kind.”

“Oh, come on! You’re totally bluffing right now; my Inky sense is telling me!”

“My lips are sealed,” Pinkie said, drawing a hoof over her mouth like a zip. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“But that’s…” Inky trailed off, thinking for a moment. “That’s not fair on Maribelle, right? She told us all a personal story of her own and gets nothing in return! Tell you what, I’ll tell you a story of mine so we’re even.”

Pinkie shrugged. “I’m not interested.”

“Oh, come on, you so are.”

“I tell you what,” Pinkie said. “To make it up to Maribelle for listening to her story, I get to tell her and only her. It’ll be our little secret, so you can’t tell anyone, especially Inky.”

“But that’s no fair!” Inky cried.

“Too bad, that’s my deal.” Pinkie crossed her forelegs. 

“Well I’d love to hear your story,” Maribelle said, pressing her hooves together eagerly, seemingly oblivious to the tone of the conversation. “Is it a lovely story? A touching story? I will honor your wish to keep it a secret, you have my word.” 

“Good.” Pinkie hopped down from her stool and slid under the table like a serpent, slipping into place at Maribelle’s left side. She put her mouth to Maribelle’s ear, covered it with a hoof, whispered something inaudible and the leapt over the table to her original seat, grabbing another beer can in one swift motion. I was taken aback by her impressive athleticism, but my attention quickly moved to Maribelle who was blushing more than she had the entire evening. 

“Pinkie,” Maribelle began, sweat dripping from her forehead. The sight began to make me hot and bothered too. “That is quite a story but… I had no idea you would do such a thing! I understand now why you would wish to keep it a secret. Just as Inky said, you are truly a dark horse! I will try not to judge your actions for I am an open-minded mare, but Pinkie, in the name of Sol, did you not go to confession after such things?!”

“What?” Inky blurted. “What did she say?”

“I could never repeat such words!” Maribelle exclaimed. “I think I would faint if I even tried. I feel as if my innocence has been washed away in a tidal wave!”

“Darn it,” Inky said, planting her head on the table in frustration. “Now I really want to know.”

“Well too bad,” Pinkie said jovially. “A secret is a secret.”

“Well if you really want to know!”

Everyone turned in the direction of the voice and saw Monobunny standing in the doorway, his sadistic grin just as disturbing as it had been before. When had he come in? I said inwardly. There was only one entrance to the dining hall, so the only possibility I could see is that he’d been waiting in the corridor this whole time, ready to pounce. 

“What is it, you freak!?” Elsie blared, holding up her dinner plate like a shield. “I thought you said you were leaving us alone!”

“I never said I wouldn’t pop in and say hi! I want to leave you alone as much as possible but sometimes I have no choice but to intervene!” He hopped towards our table, everyone’s eyes still warily trailing him. “Ink Slinger, didn’t you just say you wanted to know Pinkie’s secret?”

“Uh, yeah,” Inky said nervously.

Monobunny clapped his paws together gleefully. “Well today is your lucky day! I mean, aside from being kidnapped and thrown into a killing game, of course.” He somersaulted onto the table effortlessly and pointed a paw in Pinkie’s face. “I heard what you whispered to Maribelle! Your deepest, darkest secret is exposed!”

“No! No!” Pinkie cried, exasperated. “That’s not true! You couldn’t have! Nobody else at this table even heard me!”

“So what? That doesn’t mean I didn’t hear you. I hear everything in this place!” Monobunny turned to everyone. “So does everyone wat to hear Pinkie’s big secret? Well here we go!”

For a moment nothing happened, until suddenly everyone recoiled as a screeching sound blared in our ears. I tried holding my hooves over them in an attempt to silence it but to no avail. I couldn’t even place where the sound was coming from. Quickly the screech turned to static, and I heard a familiar voice.

“Well I’d love to hear your story.” 

It was unmistakably Maribelle, though her voice was distorted somewhat, as if it were coming from a speaker. Despite this, I could see no such device anywhere in the room.

“Is it a lovely story? A touching story? I will honor your wish to keep it a secret, you have my word.” 

Her words followed what she’d said barely a minute ago, not skipping a beat. Looking to Pinkie, it seemed she had figured out what was to follow and was shaking like a leaf.

“Good.” That was Pinkie’s voice.

“No! Don’t do it!” Pinkie cried. “Please!”

But there was nothing she could do. I braced myself, waiting for an earth-shattering revelation. There was another noise, this one presumably Pinkie moving beside Maribelle. And then her voice, just a little quieter than before.

“I had sex with my friend’s brother and never told her.”

The static receded. My head stopped ringing. Everyone looked at each other, then to Pinkie, who was now sobbing into the table with her hooves pulling at her mane, gasping erratically. 

“That’s what you said, is it not? Pu-hu-hu-hu-hu! You can’t keep these things from me!”

“You there, Greyscale,” Mesmer called. I turned to attention. “You were sat right next to her when she spoke, weren’t you? Did you hear what she’d said?”

I shook my head. “No. She was too quiet. I couldn’t make it out.”

“So that settles it,” Mesmer said, his brow furrowed. “Even the quietest whisper isn’t safe. I don’t know how it’s possible, but whatever the case, it means we can’t formulate a plan in secret. Whoever is behind this can watch and listen to everything we do. This poses a real problem. It means they can anticipate anything we come up with.”

“Now hold on!” Shetland interjected. “We don’t know that for certain!”

“Come off it,” Mesmer said sternly. “I know you’re trying to remain hopeful and keep us all together but that doesn’t mean shutting out the facts just because you don’t want to believe it. That sort of thinking will only hurt our chances of escape.”

Shetland went to speak but froze, the words catching in his throat. He snorted in frustration. “Fine,” he said. “We take this new information into account.” He returned to his seat, visibly disgruntled. 

Pinkie was still sobbing wildly. I could hardly believe that someone so upbeat and cheerful could devolve into a quivering mess in mere seconds. “I had sex with my friend’s brother and never told her.” It was quite a secret, no doubt, but I couldn’t understand her reaction.

“Pinkie,” Dopple said, her voice low and soothing. “Why are you so upset? You already told Maribelle. What difference does it make if everyone else knows?”

“It’s not that,” Pinkie croaked, rubbing at her eyes. “I mean, it’s really embarrassing for you all to know that I’d do such a thing, but that’s not the problem.” She looked towards one of the security cameras positioned just above the kitchen door. “It’s because I know my friends are either watching this, or are going to watch this, and I feel terrible! Maribelle was the first pony I ever told. I thought of it as a way of getting it off my chest, but I didn’t want my friends to know!” She banged her hooves against her head angrily. “I’m a bad pony! Such a bad pony! And a bad friend!”

“Pinkie, calm down!” Inky cried, grabbing onto Pinkie’s hooves to stop her. “Whatever the situation, I’m sure your friend will forgive you.”

Pinkie’s head sprang up. “You’re right. I need to apologize!” She leapt down from the stool and in front of the kitchen, locking eyes with the security camera. “Applejack! Applejack! I know you can hear me! I’m so, so sorry!”

“Applejack?” Copper muttered. “Who’s that?” She shook her head. “Whatever. I knew this mare was crazy anyway.”

“It was a moment of weakness!” Pinkie cried. “I said, ‘good morning,’ he said, ‘eeyup,’ and one thing just led to another. I couldn’t control myself! I fell madly in love! Oh Applejack, I should have told you! We had a secret meet-up spot in a shed near the edge of the farm! Remember that time we were baking pies together, and I had to leave to run a last-minute errand? That’s where I went! And the other time Big Mac went missing for two hours at the family gathering? That’s where he went! And when we told you we were both going off to prepare something special, and you assumed it was for your upcoming birthday? That’s where we went! And that time you thought you’d misplaced that can of whipped cream? That’s where it went! Oh, the things we did! Remember when Applebloom couldn’t speak for a whole week? She’d snuck into the shed while playing hide ‘n’ seek with Sweetie Belle, and Mac and I had no idea! We were at it for nearly three hours! We went through all the positions! He pinned me up against the hay bales and ate me like a tub of ice-cream! Applejack, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

“That is amazing,” Inky said with the utmost seriousness.

“Wait a second,” Scalpel said. “What makes you think this friend of yours is listening?”

“Oh, I’m sure all my friends will see this,” Pinkie replied sullenly. “They’ll know what a terrible pony I am.”

“But how?” Scalpel asked. “Pinkie, if you know more than you’re letting on you need to answer us.”

“Well let’s just say I have friends in pretty high places,” Pinkie said, slowly calming down. “If anyone can save us from this place, it’s them. I bet they’re already looking for me, or they’ve already found where I am and are planning to bust me out! Which means this footage will be used for evidence, and there’ll be no hiding from the truth. Applejack is bound to find out.”

“You really think your friends will save you?” Monobunny let out an ear-piercing laugh. “I have nothing against you living in hope, of course. In fact, I relish it! It makes the eventual despair that much more delectable.”

“You!” Pinkie stormed over and squared up to Monobunny, staring daggers into his eyes. “You’re just messing with us!”

“Of course I’m going to mess with you, but I’m so much more than that! I’m your guide! Your host! The master of this game!”

Pinkie pushed out her chest. “You know what? I bet you’re scared.”

“Scared?”

“Yuh-huh,” Pinkie said, grinning. “I bet this is all an act and really you’re just scared that my friends are going to ruin your plans! Nobody can stop them!”

Rather than retort back in his usual manner, Monobunny hopped from the table and began pacing back and forth in the center of the room, tapping his chin pensively. 

“What’s the matter?” Pinkie taunted. “Cat got your tongue?”

“I’m just thinking,” Monobunny said quietly, averting everyone’s gaze. For some reason it was scarier to see him like this. “I’m wondering whether I should tell you. Oh, what to do, what to do?”

“Tell me what?” Pinkie said. “It’s not like I’ll believe you, anyway. Your lies are getting old.”

“Hey!” Monobunny stormed angrily towards Pinkie and grabbed her keycard, pulling her face close to his. “You can say whatever you like to me but never, ever, call me a liar! I’ve told you once and I’ll tell you again, I refuse to lie! Honesty is everything to me! I vow to only tell the truth no matter what! Only through honesty can absolute despair be reached! A despair based on lies is nothing but a horrible cop-out! I would never stoop to such lamentable tactics! Honesty is the best policy!”

Monobunny released Pinkie from his grasp and stomped back to the center of the room. “You know what? I’ve come to a decision. I’m going to let you in on a very crucial piece of information. I don’t normally do this, so you’d better appreciate it!” He took a deep breath. “Pinkie, I can confirm with absolute certainty that your friend Applejack…”

“Yes!?” Pinkie cried. “Applejack is what?”

Monobunny paused for several seconds, seeming to enjoy how much we were hanging on his every word. “Applejack is indeed watching you at this very moment!” Pinkie gasped loudly. “She heard your confession. Every word. And do you know what her reaction was?”

Pinkie leapt to him, grasping at his paw pleadingly. “What? What did she say!?”

“Pu-hu-hu-hu! I’m afraid that’s all the information I’m willing to give. I’ll tell you what, though, I’ll make you a deal, Pinkie. A special one just for you. If you kill someone here within the next twenty-four hours, I’ll show you her reaction. Oh, if only you knew.” Monobunny burst into a fit of giggles. 

“I would never do such a thing!” Pinkie cried.

“That’s your loss,” Monobunny said with a shrug. “And now I’m done here. Until next time!” In a flash, he scurried out of the dining hall to leave us with our thoughts. 

“Pinkie,” Scalpel began, slowly approaching the mare who was now on the floor, breathing heavily and quivering. “Does this give you a clue as to what’s happened here? If Applejack is watching us, what could that mean?”

“I don’t know,” Pinkie said blankly. “It could mean anything.” She slowly stood up and traipsed gloomily back to her seat, not meeting anyone’s gaze. Her hooves were shaking as she lifted her can. She tipped it back and beer spilled down her neck. 

“I have to ask,” Dopple said, “was Monobunny telling the truth?”

“I don’t know,” Pinkie said. “My Pinkie sense isn’t working on him at all. I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s like he’s not even alive. I can’t pick up on anything. But if he is telling the truth and Applejack is watching us…” She sighed. “I have a bad feeling. A really bad feeling. We need to find a way out of here as soon as we can.”

After some consoling Pinkie had begun to smile again, quipping that ‘Monobunny is just messing with me’ and ‘no point in worrying about it’ and ‘I just need a good night’s sleep and I’ll be right as rain.’ It was an obvious façade. The atmosphere in the room quickly grew thick and icy in the wake of Pinkie’s mood shift. She had been the most expressive, most extroverted and most gleeful pony present, and now she had been shaken to her core. It was enough to disturb anyone. 

Shetland had called for tomorrow’s meeting to take place at 8:00 am in the dining room. Everyone agreed. With not much left to say and the energy of the room drained, we all headed to our rooms and swiped in using our individual keycards. I stepped inside my room and quickly closed the door behind me. 

The room was sizeable, but bare. Along the back wall was a bed, duvet and two pillows. There was a wooden desk and chair with a desk lamp and digital alarm clock plugged into the room’s only two sockets. The curtains were a plain cream color while the walls were a brilliant white. There was also a small bathroom with a shower and a built-in wardrobe with merely an extra pillow, extra duvet and a few grey towels with my name sewn into the fabric. On the wall over the bed was a clock that showed the time to be 9:46 pm, and of course, security cameras that provided a view of every available inch, even the bathroom. I used the toilet, just about able to overcome my fear of being watched during such a private moment. I considered it didn’t mean all that much in the grand scheme of things. 

I turned off the light and flopped into bed, my exhaustion having caught up with me. I tried to make sense of everything I’d learned, everything there was to think about, but my head was spinning. I still felt as if maybe this was all a dream and I was about to wake up in any moment. But it was real. I knew that. In the end I fell asleep quickly, clinging to the duvet as an imaginary voice told me everything was going to be okay. I was blissfully unaware of the horrors that the next day had in store.
> Early Start
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I walked down the colorless streets in the unrelenting downpour, my coat drenched. There were a few lost souls milling about, hurrying to cart-stops and nearby shelters. I wasn’t in a hurry; I had no reason to be. After a short journey I made my way to my apartment block and ascended the rusty metal stairs on its exterior. As I entered, the halls were silent, nothing but the sound of my faint hoof-steps. I walked to my front door and turned the lock. 

As soon as I stepped inside I heard faint sobbing. I couldn’t find the source of it at first; the apartment was just as I had left it. I opened the bathroom door and saw Pinkie Pie curled up in the corner. She saw me and motioned for me to come closer with one hoof. I did as she asked and came to her side. I could see the tears trickling down her face.

“We can’t stay here,” she whispered, burying her face into my shoulder. “It’s too dangerous.” 

The bathroom door was shut now. I couldn’t remember closing it. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll be safe,” I said. “Just stay with me.”

Then the banging came. The bathroom door shook with each knock, woodchips scattering onto the ground. I knew what was coming. They were here to kidnap us. Knock, knock. I tried to open the window but it wouldn’t budge. Knock, knock. I battered it with my hooves, failing to break it open. Knock, knock. 

“Stay away!” Pinkie screamed, just as the door caved in. 







I awoke with a start, the remains of my dream blinking out of existence as I sat up, gasping for air. I had another moment of panic as I looked around the room, my surroundings murky and unfamiliar. I rubbed my eyes and was finally able to focus. My confusion faded as memories of the previous night came back to me. I flopped back onto my pillow. I really was here, in the hotel within the dome. 

Knock, knock.

I flinched reflexively, the immense fear of my dream still lingering. I heard a deep voice from outside. “Hey Greyscale, you up yet?”

I looked at the alarm clock on my desk, the time reading 7:32 am. I hadn’t set an alarm the night before; my brain had been too fried to remember, and I’d had little reason for such things in my uneventful daily life. Then I remembered the 8 o’ clock meeting that Shetland had called for. Was the meeting called forward? Had something happened? 

I staggered out of bed and walked to the door. I just now realized that there was a peephole, and I looked outside. A flood of panic raced through my veins as I saw the towering figure before me. Yoko knocked again, a somewhat annoyed expression on his face. I didn’t know what to do. My mind raced back to everything Monobunny had told us: the rules of the killing game, the goal of committing murder without being found out and the ultimate prize of freedom to anyone who managed it. If Yoko wanted, he could break me in half like a twig or crack open my skull like a ceramic vase. I could be dead within seconds and have no chance of defending myself against the goliath. 

Knock, knock. “Come on, you must be up by now. An early start is a healthy start!”

“Here, let me try.” Another voice this time. I only just now noticed Dopple standing nearby. “Greyscale, sorry if you’re tired,” she called. “We were just wondering if you’d like to go for a quick swim before the meeting? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but we thought it’d be a good way to freshen up.”

I sighed deeply, feeling more at ease. If Yoko was here to kill me, he wouldn’t have brought someone else along as a witness. And what was to say he would even do that anyway? I was merely being paranoid. I reminded myself that in order for us all to escape, we all needed to work together. We couldn’t spend every moment assuming death was around every corner. That would drive us all mad. Plus, it made me feel safe to know that Dopple was with him. She was the only one who’d made an effort to speak to me since we’d got here. In a strange way, I felt like I could trust her. 

“Just a minute,” I called. I needed a moment to steel myself. I was worried about heading to the swimming pool of all places, not just because of its threatening machine guns but also the fact I was a rather poor swimmer. At the same time, I didn’t want to blow them off and remain entirely reclusive. It was true that was what I was used to, but I also felt a need to reciprocate their will to want to spend time with me. Kindness was something I’d experienced in short supply in my life and to throw away a rare chance seemed wrong. 

Despite a heavy dose of anxiety, I grabbed a towel from my wardrobe and creaked the door open, Dopple and Yoko’s smiling faces waiting for me. Now that I could see them more clearly I noticed that each of them had a towel of their own, both with their names embroidered and with a similar shade of their coat, with Dopple having a light yellow one and Yoko having a massive, cream-colored one. 

“Oh I see how it is,” Yoko exclaimed, winking. “You won’t listen to me but when a pretty lady asks, you come running.”

“Th-that’s not…” I stammered. One step outside and already I wanted to crawl back in. I was no good at dealing with taunts or jibes.

“Come on,” Dopple said, thumping Yoko on the shoulder playfully. The earth pony stallion recoiled theatrically. “I told you to be nice. And besides, anyone would be wary of a brute like you.” 

“Ouch, you’re killing me over here!” Yoko said with a chuckle. 

Dopple turned her attention to me. “Sorry about him. Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, okay I guess.” 

“That’s good.” Dopple smiled. “You want to join us at the pool?”

I remained in the doorway. “Sure, but why are we going to the pool?”

“I quite often go swimming to relax,” Dopple explained. “Being here is pretty nerve-wracking, and I want something to clear my head before Shetland starts ordering us around.”

Yoko snorted. “Knowing that old windbag that’s what we’ll get whether we like it or not.”

“I came across this one in the gym,” Dopple continued, pointing to Yoko. “I wondered what was thrashing around like a wild boar. Anyway, he said he’d tag along.”

“I already had a towel handy,” Yoko said. “Working out for three hours in the early morning can really break you out in a sweat! A trip to the pool might be just what I need to cool down.”

I looked out into the hallway, remembering that Dopple’s room was nearby, and that her door was almost opposite the gym, with my room directly on the way to the third floor. Dopple could have easily passed by and thought to invite me on a whim. Their story made logical sense. I didn’t have any reason to be suspicious.

“So, are you coming?” Dopple asked.

“Sure,” I said, leaving the sanctuary of my room and closing the door behind me. Then I had a brief thought. “Hang on, won’t our keycards break if we put them in water?”

“No,” Dopple said. “I’ve already had a shower and the keycard still works. But good thinking.” She started walking towards the stairs. “Come on, you two. We’ve not got much time before the meeting.”

I followed, my tension slowly dripping away. So long as Dopple was around I could feel somewhat comfortable.

We scaled the stairs and split up, Yoko and I heading towards the male locker room. I had to double check the sign as we entered, ensuring that the opening time was indeed 7 o’ clock, otherwise the machine gun would (supposedly) cut us to ribbons. Once again, we came across the stack of torn locker doors piled in the corner, each locker left completely bare. I put my towel in a random locker and was about to head through the swing doors when Yoko put a hoof across, blocking my path. My heart immediately leapt into my throat. 

“Before we go in,” he said quietly, “I’ll give you a little advice. Don’t go getting any ideas just because Dopple wanted you to come. She’s doing this to be friendly, not because she’s into you. Remember that and you won’t go making a fool of yourself.” He tapped me lightly on the back and headed into the pool area. 

I hadn’t even considered that, I said inwardly as I followed. At least not until you said it just now. Yoko dived into the pool and began swimming lengths with tremendous speed, his head bobbing in and out of the water with each movement. I slowly climbed in, the water clear and cool, Dopple doing the same at the other end. Now that I was here, I wasn’t even sure what to do. What would normal ponies who led normal lives do? It was beyond me. I floated there for a while, looking up at the bare ceiling. The windows were open but from what I could tell, no breeze flowed through them. Because there is no outside, I reminded myself. Just the inside of the dome. 

Dopple slowly swam towards me, completing a length. “Sorry,” she said as she passed. “I didn’t think that maybe you weren’t a swimmer.”

“I can swim,” I said, feeling the sudden need to prove myself. I lined myself up and pushed off from the ledge, drifting into a paltry breast stroke. It had been a long, long time but I was at least able to do the bare amount without flailing like wounded animal. It felt surprisingly good.

A few minutes passed until Yoko shot out of the water towards the storage room in the corner. “Better check this place for dangerous weapons since our almighty leader forgot about it completely,” he said, opening the door and peeking inside. “No light in here. Figures.” I could hear him rummaging around.

“Anything interesting?” Dopple called.

Yoko stepped back, holding up a multicolored, foam body-board. “There’s a whole bunch of these floats. Piles of them. Oh, and there’s this.” He put a hoof into the room again and pulled out a tall, wooden ladder. “Wonder what this is here for.”

“Put it up against that wall,” Dopple said. 

Yoko did as he was told and propped the ladder up. “A-ha! I see!” he exclaimed. The ladder reached the point just shy of the window frame. “It’s so earth ponies are able to open and close the windows. Well, except for me, of course. If I tried stepping on this flimsy thing it’d probably break into pieces!” He slid it back into the storage room and shut the door. “Nothing out of place in there from what I can see.”

“Thank goodness,” Dopple said, resting against the pool edge. 

I knew what she meant. I couldn’t shake the worry that we were about to discover a hidden stash of knives, or even worse, a dead body. The thought sent a chill down my spine and I had to stop swimming, coming to a stop near Dopple.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” Dopple said. 

“Oh?” I said weakly, my mind racing to what Yoko had said earlier. Perhaps he had been wrong? 

“Last night,” Dopple continued, “I hope we didn’t upset you.”

“Upset me? How?”

Dopple’s face grew more serious. “When you were eating your meal.” Now I knew what she was getting at. “We weren’t laughing at you, you know. And we certainly weren’t thinking less of you. The food was actually very good, honestly. You must have thought we all pitied you or something, staring at you like that just because you were enjoying it so much.”

I tried to talk back but my voice caught in my throat. You figured all that out by just looking at me?

“That wasn’t the case,” she continued, smiling now. “It was just nice to see you finally enjoying yourself. You seemed in a pretty bad way before that, especially when Button made that comment about you. I already had a word with him last night to watch his mouth.”

I couldn’t help but avert my gaze, embarrassment creeping up on me. In that moment I genuinely wondered if Dopple was a mind reader. “Thanks,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say; she seemed to be putting in a lot of effort just to take care of me and I had nothing to give in return. 

“Don’t mention it,” Dopple replied. 

It wasn’t long before the three of us got out despite Yoko’s wish to “piss off the old windbag” by being late to the meeting. Dopple immediately reprimanded him and said she’d report him for suspicious behavior if he stayed behind. Yoko followed her orders without question, sheepishly walking alongside me to the locker room. I had to admit, there was something strangely enjoyable about watching a titan get bossed around by a little mare with a frown. It also made Dopple seem a little more attractive than before, a thought I tried desperately to banish.

“Sheesh, she is one scary little lady!” Yoko said as we grabbed our towels and began drying ourselves off. “I’d better watch my mouth or she’ll kill me!” The two of us froze and traded glances. “Oh, whoops, I guess I’d better not say stuff like that. Someone could get the wrong idea.” Yoko chuckled nervously. 

I nodded in response. It was easy to forget that such things could really happen. “Are you worried?” I asked. “You seem pretty cheery.”

Yoko dropped the towel to his side and sighed, a small grin on his face. “Of course I’m worried,” he said tonelessly. “I expect all of us are, deep down. And I know what you’re thinking, a big monster like me scared of being attacked? Well that already happened and I ended up here, what’s to say it can’t happen again? I just don’t want to think about it, is all.

“I know you must find me pretty intimidating because of my appearance, and probably most of the others do too. I get that. It’s part of the reason I’ve tried to just be myself in this place. If I got all reclusive and didn’t speak to anyone it’d only make me look suspicious, right? But any one of us has the potential to be dangerous. 

“If I’m honest, I think Shetland, for all his pomposity and sickening self-righteousness, has the right idea. I just like to keep him in check, is all. If we can work together, I’m sure we can get out of this place.” Yoko finished drying his mane and threw his towel into a locker. I did the same and we both left, meeting up with Dopple in the hallway and making our way to the dining room on the first floor. 

“Another minute and you’d have been late,” was Shetland’s comment as we walked through the door. Despite it being the three of us his anger was directed towards Yoko.

“C’mon, chief. We’re still on time, aren’t we?” 

“Fine,” Shetland said, fixing his gaze on the glass door. “We’re still waiting for two more, anyway. We can’t start the meeting otherwise.”

I took a seat in the same corner as last night (Maribelle, Button and Copper already at the table, Dopple and Yoko following) and looked around the room. Everyone was present and accounted for except for two mares: Pinkie Pie and Ink Slinger.

“Figures,” Copper huffed. “They were both getting drunk last night. I’ll bet they’re both in bed with a hangover. Pretty irresponsible if you ask me.”

“That is a possibility,” Maribelle said. “Did anyone check on them when they woke up this morning? I made sure to knock on Button’s door in case he’d forgotten to set his alarm.”

Button looked shattered, his eyelids drooping and his gaze wavering. He was using Maribelle’s shoulder as a makeshift pillow. “I couldn’t sleep last night,” he said wearily. “A gamer’s sleep schedule just isn’t cut out for early morning routines.”

“That’s a good point, Maribelle,” Dopple said. She turned to the rest of the group. “Has anyone seen or heard from either of them this morning?”

Shetland stepped forward. “I asked the question earlier and everybody confirmed that they hadn’t. I’m assuming you three haven’t either then.” 

Dish Panner raised a hoof. “Should I go check on them?”

“No,” Shetland said. “We’ll wait a little longer. Besides, we shouldn’t be splitting up precariously at this point. Who’s to say you don’t go looking for them and they come back, and then someone goes searching for you? It would be a nightmare.”

Minutes passed, the atmosphere growing progressively heavier. At ten past eight, the whispers and shared glances displayed an air of worry. At twenty past eight, it seemed some were about to reach breaking point. In the end it was Yoko who spoke up.

“That’s it!” Yoko cried, slamming a hoof down on the table and frightening the life out of Button who had just drifted off to sleep. “I am sick of waiting. For all we know, something bad could have happened to them! What are we doing still sitting here like lemons?”

“Y-yes, I agree,” Reph said. Dish Panner nodded in agreement with him. “W-we could end up sitting here for hours while they’re in trouble! Or m-maybe they found a way out?”

“Unlikely,” Mesmer said. “If they found an escape route I doubt they’d keep it a secret. They aren’t exactly the quietest pair.”

“So we need to go!” Yoko barked, pointing a hoof in Shetland’s direction. “You can’t keep me here, you know!”

“Okay, alright!” Shetland bellowed, angrily rubbing at his mane-less head. “You can stop saying it now. You’re right. We need to search for them but only if we split into orderly groups and search thoroughly. We can’t all just run off without abandon.” He stood pensively for a moment. “We’ll need to split into groups of three.”

“Why three?” Reph asked.

“If we split into groups of two that’s…” Shetland trailed off, then readied himself. “In groups of two we’d be giving everyone a chance to commit murder. In groups of three, anyone who tries something suspicious will have two witnesses and far less chance of getting away with anything untoward. On the flipside if we make the groups too big we won’t be able to cover as much ground during the search. For all we know, one, or both of them could be up to something, and if that’s the case we’d need to keep an eye over a larger area.”

“That’s bullshit!” Yoko cried. “Those two would never hurt a fly!”

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” Shetland retorted. “We don’t take any chances. It’s likely they’ve just overslept but we shouldn’t risk anything at this point. Now let’s see.” Shetland pointed his hoof. “Yoko, Maribelle and Button, you three can search the MonoMart and surrounding area outside the hotel.”

“What!?” Button cried. “I don’t want to go with him! He could kill us both!”

Shetland sighed. “Is there anyone here who isn’t afraid to team up with Yoko?”

Mesmer raised a hoof. “If it moves things along, I’ll oblige.”

“Me too,” Dopple said, raising a hoof of her own. 

“Hang on,” Yoko said, trembling. “Do I have to go with Dopple? She scares me!”

“Shut it!” Shetland growled. “Let’s focus. Maribelle, Button and Dish Panner, the three of you can search the MonoMart and hotel surroundings. Yoko, Mesmer and Dopple, you three can search the first floor. Don’t forget that both Pinkie and Ink Slinger’s rooms are on this floor, so be sure to check there. Reph, Elsie and Sanscript, you three can check the second floor. Leave no stone unturned and stick together. Absolutely no running off or splitting up amongst yourselves under any circumstances. If any one of your teammates does such a thing you must postpone the search and come straight back to the dining hall. You hear me? If you sabotage the search then you will be reprimanded and lose the trust of everyone else.”

“There’s still the third floor,” Scalpel said. “The swimming area.”

“Hey,” Yoko called. “Me, Dopple and Greyscale went there earlier and neither of them were there.”

“Be that as it may,” Shetland said, “the search must still be as thorough as possible. Now let’s see. The ones left are Doctor Scalpel, Copper, Greyscale and myself.”

“Just a quick thought,” Copper piped up. “I wasn’t sure if you remembered, but from the landing on the stairs to the third floor you can see all the way to the stairs that lead to the first floor. There’s a kind of – how would you put it – tunnel running down the building’s center. Wouldn’t it make sense to keep an eye on whether anyone is seen moving between the second and first floors? Whether it’s Inky, Pinkie or anyone else?”

It took a second for me to realize what Copper was talking about. While walking from the swimming pool earlier this morning I did remember seeing what almost looked like an airway, some kind of gap in the upper part of the wall that connected all the way to the other side, letting you see the top of the opposite stairwell, provided you were standing on the landing leading up to the third floor. 

“Yes!” Shetland affirmed. “A most excellent idea!”

“Then the two of us,” Scalpel said, looking to Shetland, “should search the swimming pool while those two keep an eye on the stairwell?”

“Wait a minute,” Yoko said, looking disgruntled. “What about keeping it to teams of three? With you two alone, anything could happen!”

Shetland rolled his eyes. “We’d be taking every precaution. Once the Doctor and I finish our search, which shouldn’t take too long, we can quickly meet back up with Copper and Greyscale. If anything were to happen or if any of us ran off, it would be immediately obvious who was implicated. We’d be in close proximity and be able to join up as a team of four once it’s done. From there we can sweep through the hotel and check on each team’s progress. It also means we can check both locker rooms. To me that sounds like the safest way of doing things, if that’s alright with you, Doctor?”

Scalpel nodded.

“Then let’s move out!” Shetland ordered. “Be as thorough as possible and don’t stop until you’ve searched everywhere you can. Once you’ve done that, return here to the dining hall and hopefully we can begin our meeting.”

Each group moved out as one, with Dopple, Mesmer and Yoko quickly checking the kitchen before leaving. “Come on,” Copper said, nudging my shoulder. “We’d better get a move on.”

Shetland, Scalpel, Copper and I walked up to the second floor and towards the next set of stairs, Sanscript, Reph and Elsie already moving towards the rec room in their search. Once we reached our destination, Shetland turned to the two of us. “You both stick together and keep a keen eye on the opposite stairwell. If you feel the Doctor and I are taking too long, you are both welcome to check on us. I am not expecting any of us, myself included, to be free of suspicion. If one of you runs off the other is to come straight to me and report the behavior. Understand?” Copper and I both nodded. “Good. Doctor?”

“Yes Officer,” Scalpel replied, and the two made their way to each end of the hallway towards their respective locker rooms. Copper and I started our task as lookouts. 

“I know I said some mean things about Pinkie last night,” Copper said sullenly. “I still hope nothing’s happened to her. Or Inky, for that matter.” She sighed, ruffling her wings. “Greyscale, did I come off as a total bitch last night?”

“Well, no, I don’t think so,” I replied. It felt rude and ingenuous to say such a thing while not looking directly at her, but to do so would compromise our watch. 

“You can tell me if I was. I won’t bite.”

“No, really.”

“You’re too polite.” I could see Copper shake her head out of the corner of my eye. “I think I’ll have to apologize when we find her. I still think she’s naïve to be so optimistic, or maybe I’m just being overly pessimistic. If I’m completely honest, between you and me, I’m absolutely terrified.”

This statement made me glance involuntarily in her direction. “You are?”

“Yeah. I’m just about hanging onto my sanity by a thread. How about you?”

“I… I’m not really sure,” I answered. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“Well you’re handling it better than I am,” Copper said. “Maybe I need to be a little more hopeful, but hearing that two of us are missing already has me on tenterhooks.”

After another few minutes of waiting with no movement at the other stairwell I heard faint hoof-steps coming from the upper floor. It was Scalpel. 

“Did you find either of them?” Copper asked. 

Scalpel shook her head. “No, but we did find something interesting in the store room. I’m not sure what to make of it though.”

A few moments later and Shetland emerged from the locker room holding a bright pink towel. “This was in the store room,” he said gravely. “buried at the back under a pile of floats.” He held it up to us and we confirmed the name embroidered into the fabric. No doubt, this towel belonged to Pinkie Pie. “Yoko said you and Dopple were with him this morning and that you went to the swimming pool. Tell me, do you know anything about this?”

I racked my brains. “Yoko did look in the store room but he didn’t see it.”

“That’s understandable,” Shetland said. “The room doesn’t have a functioning light-switch so it’s a little dark. We only found it because we dug through the entire inventory. Are you sure he didn’t plant it there when he looked in the room?”

“I’m sure,” I replied. “Dopple and I were both with him and he didn’t have a pink towel at any point. We would’ve seen it.”

“Okay,” Shetland said, furrowing his brow. “I just needed to check. This towel’s presence here is worrying at best. The only place this could have come from would be Pinkie’s room, so it means she had to have left her room at some point this morning considering the pool was off limits by the time we left the dining room last night. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.” He looked morosely at the towel and then back to us. “Come on. The search isn’t over. Let’s assist the others.” 

The four of us made our way towards the gym. It was predictably empty, so we walked out into the corridor and were met with Sanscript, Elsie and Reph.

“No luck, I’m afraid,” Sanscript said. “We’ve searched the library, recreation room and gym and found nothing of note.”

Shetland showed them Pinkie’s towel and instructed them to do another sweep of the floor before heading to the dining room. We went downstairs to the first floor and immediately saw Dopple banging on Inky’s door, Mesmer and Yoko at her side. 

“Neither of them are answering when we knock,” Dopple said as we approached. “All we have left to check is the laundry room. Any news on either of them?”

“No,” Shetland said, his demeanor growing more concerned.

“This is total bullshit,” Yoko murmured, looking more forlorn than ever. “I was sure they were just sleeping. Can’t we just break down the doors or something?”

“That would be unwise,” Mesmer said. “We can’t break the locks without incurring punishment and we can’t exactly break them off at the hinges like you did with the locker doors.”

“Damn it.” Yoko thumped the floor angrily.

Shetland relayed the information about the towel and together as a group of seven we searched the laundry room, opening up every washing machine and dryer just in case. We found nothing. By this point I was starting to panic. A vision of the two mares’ bodies lying dead and bloodied flashed before my eyes and I shook it away forcefully. Again, the team for the first floor performed another full search. It seemed futile. I hoped beyond hope that I was overthinking things.

Our team of four headed for the entrance. Upon opening the door to the outside, my heart leapt with glee. “Inky!?” I cried, running out into the courtyard towards her. The zebra mare looked entirely carefree and held up a hoof in greeting.

“Yo Greyscale!” she called. “How’s it going?”

“Have you seen Pinkie?”

“Nah, can’t say I have.” Inky stumbled a bit as she spoke, Dish Panner coming to the rescue and holding her up. 

“We found this one,” Dish Panner said, clearly annoyed, “pigging out on snacks and drinking herself silly in the MonoMart.” Maribelle and Button nodded, affirming this claim.

“It was just a few morning beers,” Inky said, nudging Dish Panner away. “I couldn’t help myself! A whole store with everything for free? It’s like a dream come true! Don’t tell me I was late for the meeting?”

Shetland stormed towards her. “Late? Late!? You’re at least half an hour late! We were worried sick about you! We thought something had happened!”

“Woah, chill, chill,” Inky said, waving a hoof dismissively. “Well I’m here now so no worries, right? Let’s get on with it.”

“Pinkie is still missing,” Shetland replied angrily. “None of the other groups have found her so far and all we’ve been able to find is a towel that belongs to her. I was hoping we’d find her here. Have you searched the hotel perimeter?”

“Yes,” Maribelle said. “We didn’t find anything.”

“Search again,” Shetland ordered. “And double-check the MonoMart. Come back to the dining room once you’re done.”

My brief elation at finding Inky alive and well was cut short by Pinkie’s whereabouts remaining unknown. I remembered her emotional state towards the end of the evening. She was unhinged and hysterical, her cheerful demeanor falling to pieces after hearing that her friend was watching the camera feed. Whatever ramifications that possibility entailed it had spooked Pinkie to the absolute core. I wondered, desperately trying to stop my mind from entertaining such thoughts, whether Pinkie was in such a maligned state that she’d committed suicide. It seemed ridiculous that a peppy mare like her would do such a thing, but the more the idea churned in my head the more likely it seemed. 

“Greyscale?” Copper’s voice was hoarse and distant. “Are you okay?”

“She killed herself,” I blurted out, my mouth running faster than I could control. My restraint crumbled into dust and my thoughts spilled out wildly. The surrounding ponies stared at me in shock as I continued. “She’s dead in her room, I just know it. That explains why she won’t answer the door and why we can’t find her anywhere else. Remember when she was going crazy last night? I think she figured something out, something horrible. Maybe she–”

I felt something strike my left cheek, pain exploding across my face. I looked up to see Copper glaring intensely into my eyes, tears beginning to form. “You shut up,” she croaked, her lip quivering. “Shut the fuck up and help us look for her.”

I stood silently, overwhelmed by emotion. I could barely believe that Copper had slapped me. I could barely believe the situation we were in. I could barely believe anything. I took a deep breath and collected myself. “I’m sorry,” I uttered. “You’re right. I don’t know what came over me.”

Shetland stood between us as a barrier, presumably to stop Copper from attacking me again. “I know how you feel but both of you need to remain calm. I have an idea.” The four of us walked back into the hotel, Shetland calling us to a halt inside the entrance lobby. “If what Monobunny said was true,” he said, reaching for the service bell on the entrance desk, “we might be able to use his help.” 

Mere seconds after the bell rang out Monobunny came charging in through the right-hand door and bounded towards us. “You rang?” he said teasingly. 

“We need access to Pinkie’s room,” Shetland said.

“Oh? Has the pretty pink pony gone missing?” Monobunny let out a cruel chuckle. 

“Bastard!” Copper cried. “Don’t tell me you’re the one responsible!”

“Absolutely not! I only step in when it’s necessary! As for Pinkie’s room, I suppose I could disengage the lock and give you all access, but I don’t want to. As far as I’m concerned there’s no need for me to open it. If only you had Pinkie’s keycard you’d be able to get inside!”

Shetland grumbled. “There has to be another way.”

“Well if there is, I’m not telling! I already told you I’d be leaving you to your own devices, didn’t I? Cheerio, my dear participants!” With that, Monobunny scurried off and disappeared.

“What can we do?” Scalpel asked. “There’s no way for us to check her room.”

Shetland paced back and forth before stopping in front of the framed maps. He stared at them for a moment then turned to us excitedly. “I’ve got it,” he said. “We can’t break her door down but there’s no rule against breaking her window!” He hurried outside, the three of us following eagerly.

Using the map as a guide Pinkie’s window was on the same side as the entrance on the first floor, the curtains drawn. While out of reach for an earth pony or unicorn, it would be easy for a pegasus. Shetland gave Pinkie’s towel to Scalpel and hovered next to the window, ready to shatter the pane. “You three might want to stand back,” he said. He gave the window a kick with his hind leg and a crack appeared. “Looks like it’s pretty tough.” His next kick was more forceful and punched a large hole in the window’s center. Another quick flurry – the almighty sounds of clashing echoing throughout the dome – and a hole just about big enough for a pony was made. He pulled back the curtains and peeked inside. “I can’t see Pinkie. Hang on, I’ll open the door from the inside so you three can get in.”

Copper, Scalpel and I did as we were told and walked back through the hotel as Shetland broke his way through. Anticipation was building. My heart was pounding madly inside my chest. We approached Pinkie’s room, the door wide open. Shetland stood in the doorway looking disappointed. “She’s not here.” I felt a great weight being lifted. “Come inside. The glass shards haven’t been spread around much thanks to the curtains, but even so, watch your step.”

The three of us filed in. No Pinkie, just as Shetland had said. The room was bare. Scalpel opened up the wardrobes and spilled out its contents, finding nothing more than identical pink towels. Shetland overturned the pillows and duvet and pulled up the mattress finding nothing under the bed. Copper and I checked the bathroom and found nothing untoward. Every nook and cranny was overturned but nothing came up. The room was entirely bare.

“I’m glad you were wrong,” Copper said. “But it still means Pinkie is missing.”

“Maybe so,” Shetland said, “but perhaps one of the other groups has found her. Let’s head back to the dining room and wait for them to finish their search.”

Back at the dining room we were met with only disappointment. Each group returned, each group finding nothing regarding Pinkie’s whereabouts. The lone towel found in the swimming pool store room was our only clue thus far. 

“So she’s not in her room?” Inky asked. “You’re sure? Absolutely positive?”

Shetland nodded. “The four of us can vouch for that.”

Yoko growled with annoyance. “Then where the hell can she be!?”

“There’s only one possibility,” Shetland said. “She must be in someone else’s room.” His declaration sent a shockwave throughout the dining hall. I couldn’t fault his logic. But if that was the case, and it appeared to be, then it meant something utterly horrifying had taken place. It meant that in all likelihood, Pinkie had been murdered, her body kept inside the killer’s chamber. I felt sick to my stomach.

“This is the plan,” Shetland said. “We’ll carry out a thorough search of everyone’s rooms. Together. All of us. No splitting off into groups. Agreed?”

Our newfound search was set in motion. Heading up to the second floor we started with Reph’s room and worked our way around clockwise. Each time the room’s owner would open the door but not be allowed access to prevent them from being able to hide anything suspicious. Then a group of us would enter and scour the entire room while the rest would wait in the corridor as it was impractical for thirteen of us to fit into such a small space. Each time a new door was opened there was an air of suspense, the thought that Pinkie’s corpse would be waiting for us a constant terror. 

Button began to act shifty we reached his room, his face turning to panic as Sanscript looked under his pillow. “Get away from there!” he called, trying to get inside but being blocked by Shetland. “That’s private!”

Sanscript pulled out a hardcover book – presumably a graphic novel from its appearance – and flipped through the pages. “What’s this?” he exclaimed. “The Lusty Equestrian Maid? You got this from the library?”

Button’s face turned a bright shade of crimson. “It’s for the story! It’s only for the story! I mean it! Don’t judge me!”

“Well,” Sanscript said, putting the book back in its place. “I must say you have a discerning eye, young one. I’ve been wanting to work on a theatre production of this masterpiece for years! I’ve just never gotten around to it, you see.”

Inky sidled next to him, fluttering her eyelashes. “How’s about you let me take the starring role when you do. I’ll bet I can make a good lusty maid,” she said, winking flirtatiously. 

“My dear,” Sanscript said, looking somewhat rattled. “The maid in question is depicted as a pegasus in the story. In fact, there are certain important scenes that ride on this fact.”

“Aww.” Inky’s head drooped sadly. “But what about a bit of racial diversity, eh? Come on, please!”

Sanscript snorted, his cheeks flushed. “No! I will not sully my creative vision with such trivialities!”

The hunt continued, with Scalpel’s, Dopple’s, Elsie’s and my own room being pried into with nothing to show for it. One room on the floor we couldn’t access was the extra room, the one with no named occupant. The exterior search team mentioned that they would’ve noticed if any of the windows (besides Pinkie’s) had been broken into. Considering everyone had already tested their keycards and that the window would have been the only possible entry point, we decided to leave it be. 

Heading down to the first floor Shetland opened his own room and allowed a group inside. “Feel free to go through everything,” he said. 

“In that case,” Yoko said, beaming, “perhaps you can empty out that pocket of yours! No stone left unturned, remember?”

Rather than hit back at Yoko’s comment Shetland promptly obliged, even taking off his shirt. “Here. I have nothing to hide.” Yoko emptied out the pocket to reveal Shetland’s Officer’s badge, golden and gleaming. Checking it over with much scrutiny, he handed it back.

“Wait a minute,” Dish Panner said worriedly. “Does that mean you want me to take off my clothes?”

Shetland nodded. “It’s for the best that everyone is searched thoroughly. We may be looking for Pinkie, but any suspicious objects should be noted as well.”

“But I can’t!” Dish Panner cried. “You don’t understand! For personal reasons, I simply mustn’t allow it.”

Maribelle came forward. “I must admit it would be rather embarrassing for me to take off my uniform as well. It’s something I’m just not used to.”

Button prodded Maribelle’s shoulder, a fiendish grin on his face. “But what if you went swimming? Huh? You’d have to take your clothes off!”

“I suppose,” Maribelle muttered. “But to strip in front of you all would be too much.”

“Quite right!” Dish Panner affirmed. “You can’t just ask two young ladies to strip for you all, can you?”

Shetland rubbed his forehead. “This is getting tiresome. You can’t keep refusing if everyone here is being treated the same.” He thought for a moment. “The best compromise I can think of is if the two of you search each other. That way you’re both sharing in your embarrassment. Just go into my room and shut the door.”

Dish Panner and Maribelle exchanged glances. “Fine,” Dish Panner said. “Maribelle, I trust you not to speak of this.”

“You have my word,” Maribelle replied. The two mares walked into Shetland’s room and closed the door.

Those who remained stood in relative silence, waiting for their return. After about a minute or so we heard a yelp through the door followed by muffled voices.

“Maribelle!” Dish Panner cried. “What are you–”

“Oh, you poor, poor thing,” Maribelle said soothingly. “Now I understand what you meant. Come here, sweetie.”

“Maribelle, please!” Dish Panner exclaimed. “You’re getting a little too intimate and you’re c-completely naked! I’ve never been this close to a mare before so please, have mercy on my frail heart!”

Button was feverishly trying to look through the door’s peephole. “I can’t see a thing! Let me look!”

Dish Panner eventually stepped out in her usual attire, staring wearily into space, her legs trembling and her breathing irregular. “I feel like I’ve taken a trip to the other side in more ways than one,” she murmured. 

Maribelle left the room next looking bewildered at Dish Panner’s reaction. Both confirmed that neither were carrying anything besides their clothes and so we continued clockwise around each room. Those who had yet to see inside Pinkie’s room were let in, then we headed through the entrance lobby to complete the circuit of the first floor. I was situated towards the rear of the line with Dopple, Inky, Copper, Maribelle and Button.

“I’m getting sick of this,” Copper grumbled. “I’m so thirsty right now I can’t take it!” Just as we were about to enter the door to the next corridor she took off towards the hotel entrance. 

“Copper!” I called. “We’re supposed to stick together!”

“I’m just going to grab something from the MonoMart. If Shetland has his way I won’t have a chance at all. I’ll only be gone a minute, don’t worry.” Turning on her hoof Copper fled the hotel, the door closing behind her. 

I was about to rush after her when Dopple pulled me back. “Just leave her, otherwise you could get in trouble too.”

With much consideration I did as I was told, mentally chiding Copper for her impudence. It didn’t seem as if Shetland and the others had noticed her absence as the next room – Mesmer’s – was checked. Just as they were finishing about two minutes later, Copper ducked back inside and rejoined us.

“Really!” Maribelle said in a hushed yell. “That was a very silly thing to do!”

“I know,” Copper said annoyedly. “I just desperately needed some water. I’ve been sweating buckets worrying about Pinkie.”

Our last stop was Inky’s room. The atmosphere was even more strained and fearful than any that had come before. If Pinkie wasn’t here, there was nowhere else she could be, and Inky had already put herself under suspicion by not showing up to the meeting on time and being found in the MonoMart. Despite this, I just couldn’t bring myself to believe that Inky – of all ponies – could be guilty of Pinkie’s murder. It actually seemed more likely that Pinkie was simply hiding, ready to jump out with a scream of “surprise!” The truth, as it happened, wasn’t so kind. Inky nonchalantly opened her door. There was nothing. Once again, as with everyone else, there was no sign of Pinkie whatsoever. It was just a simple room with nothing out of the ordinary. 

“What’s going on!?” Yoko bellowed. “This doesn’t make any sense! She should be here somewhere! We’ve checked everywhere!”

“Indeed,” Mesmer said. “I wonder if we should go back to the drawing board. Any thoughts, Shetland?”

Shetland’s face was one of utter dismay. His plan to find Pinkie had completely failed. “Let’s head back to the dining room,” he finally said. “I’ll… I’ll think of something.”

The fourteen of us settled in the dining room, our collective will depleted. What had started off as a simple task had become a mystery. Just over twelve hours ago Pinkie was with us, walking and talking, expressing her hopes and fears. Now she has disappeared into thin air. It seemed impossible. 

“Monobunny must have done it,” Elsie declared. “He put us in here and now he’s taking us out one by one!”

“What can we do?” Dish Panner asked, trembling. “Was she taken away while she slept? Will the same happen to us, one by one?”

“If that’s the case,” Reph said, “n-nobody can be left alone every again, and we’ll have to sleep shifts with everyone present! We don’t have a choice!”

Scalpel looked to Shetland, her eyes full of hope. “You have a plan, right? A way to get out of here?”

The stallion sighed dejectedly, his eyes focused on the table in front of him. “I need time to think.”

Elsie stood up, her eyes filled with rage. “We do what I’ve said from the beginning! We grab Monobunny and take that little monster down!”

“What then?” Mesmer asked. “Even if we kill him, what good will it do? We’d still be stuck here.”

“Then we torture him!” Elsie screamed. “We force him to tell us the way out of here!”

Mesmer shook his head. “Our voices are being recorded, remember? The mere fact that you said that means he’d be expecting it.”

Elsie put her hooves either side of her head and began shaking erratically. “Then it’s hopeless! Hopeless!”

Scalpel shook Shetland by the shoulders frantically. “Please, Shetland! You must have something!”

“I have nothing.” The stallion tipped his head back against the sofa and breathed deeply. “If Pinkie doesn’t show up within the next few hours then we’ll… We’ll do something. Just give me time to think.”

Nobody knew what to respond with. The fire that we’d held between us had dissipated. The rules of the game had been made clear but now it seemed we had all been lied to, that we were just being toyed with. If we didn’t know what to expect then we had no way of knowing what the next course of action should be. With Copper at my left side and Dopple at my right, I felt a sudden, powerful urge to pull them both into my embrace, to find a little pleasure before it all came crashing down. It seemed my urge had been far surpassed by someone else’s, however.

“I can’t stand this!” Button roared, standing atop the table. “Screw you all! You can mope around like pathetic worms but I am gonna enjoy my time while I still can!” He turned to Maribelle and grabbed her by the hoof. “Maribelle! Will you come swimming with me? You’ll have no choice but to take off your clothes! It’s now or never!”

His outburst stunned everyone, especially Maribelle. The mare’s jaw fell agape. “Button…”

“I won’t take no for an answer! I’m living life like there’s no tomorrow!”

Maribelle thought for a moment then snapped her mouth shut. Wordlessly, she followed Button out of the dining room, leaving us all to revel in his crazed bravery. I couldn’t help but envy him.

“Well,” Mesmer said, looking genuinely flustered for the first time since our arrival. “I didn’t expect that to come out of the little brat. I almost feel inspired.”

“So that’s it?” Inky said, nodding to herself, her eyes darting madly. “If Monobunny is going to axe us off, we have to make the most of it! Everyone, back to the MonoMart for more beer!”

“Screw that!” Yoko bellowed. “You’re really going to give up so easily!? Pinkie goes missing so you assume it’s the end!?” He shook his head furiously. “You pitiful weaklings! We shouldn’t be submitting to this insanity; we should be fighting against it! Don’t you see? This is what that evil rabbit wants! He wants us to lose hope and fall apart! We’re all assuming the worst when we don’t know squat! There’s that room we haven’t gotten into yet and I’m sure we’ve missed something else during our search. Plus, for all we know Pinkie Pie is still safe and sound–”


*DING DONG DONG DING*


“A body has been discovered!” Monobunny’s voice blared like a megaphone. Looking around, everyone else clutched at their ears. We were all hearing the same message. “Could everyone please head to the swimming pool on the third floor. After a certain amount of time has passed the murder trial will commence! In the interest of fairness the machine guns outside each locker room have been temporarily disabled until the trial is over. Now go forth! Gather clues! Find the culprit! Your very lives depend on it! Pu-hu-hu!”

The announcement came to an end. My hooves were shaking. My breathing was shallow. My heart felt like it was trapped in a tumble drier. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. And yet this was reality. 

Yoko charged out first, nearly crushing one of the tables as he clambered from his seat. Amidst panicked mutterings and screeches I barreled out of the room with everyone else. We collectively scrambled up the stairs to the second floor and ran up to the third floor, breaking off into groups of mares and stallions to each of the locker rooms. I charged in beside Shetland and Sanscript, falling to a halt as we crashed through the door. Button sat quivering in the corner, tears streaming down his face. He barely even reacted to our presence. I knew what was to come. I opened the saloon doors to the swimming pool. I first saw Yoko, his face awash with horror. Then I followed his gaze.

Atop the diving board, led face-down was Pinkie Pie, her body limp and her eyes unblinking, a hoof stretched out in front of her as if reaching for salvation. But that help would never come. Pinkie was dead. 

I let out a scream. Little did I know, my descent into despair had only just begun.
> Investigation One
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t long before everyone made their way to the swimming pool. As expected, many reacted with shock and sorrow. Button refused to leave the locker room, his nerves decidedly shot. Maribelle had run to his aid, her entry into the male locker room now allowed due to Monobunny’s alteration of the rules. Rather than point menacingly at the doorways the machine guns drooped, posing no threat to anyone anymore. Not that it was much consolation. Pinkie Pie was dead. 

Inky was utterly hysterical, tears spilling violently down her cheeks as she yelled Pinkie’s name helplessly. Less than twenty-four hours ago the pair seemed inseparable –  joking, drinking and getting along like the best of friends. Now they were forever apart.

Copper stood dejectedly in the corner, averting her gaze from Pinkie’s corpse and failing to hold back the tears. She would never get the chance to offer Pinkie an apology.

Shetland sat in disbelief, his cool, authoritative demeanor completely diminished. Scalpel stood at his side, whispering what I could only assume to be assurance. She too, however, looked distraught. 

Yoko clenched his eyes shut as if to banish the very sight before us. I looked again, desperate to believe that this was all a ruse, that Pinkie was just pretending, that she was just sleeping, that anything, anything else had happened. It was nothing but wishful thinking.

Amidst the commotion Monobunny dashed across the tiles and leapt up onto the diving board, gesturing towards Pinkie like a gameshow host showing off the star prize. “And here we have our first victim! As it’s your very first body discovery I think it only fair to run through some important points to get you all started. The only way to ensure your survival is to deduce the one responsible for Pinkie’s death.”

“I-I-It’s you!” Reph cried shakily, pointing threateningly at Monobunny. “You’re the only one!”

“Better save that line for later!” Monobunny said with a chuckle. “You’re wrong, by the way. I don’t kill anyone unless I absolutely need to and I absolutely did not kill Pinkie Pie! How many times do I have to tell you? I. Don’t. Lie!” Monobunny hopped down to the floor, revealing a slip of manila paper from behind his back. “Now as is custom for murder investigations I offer you all the Monobunny File! This will give you important information about Pinkie’s death that’s vital to discovering the truth!” He proudly folded out the slip of paper on the ground and stood back. “Go on! This is for all of you!”

There was an exchange of looks between ponies, an immense hesitation to follow Monobunny’s commands. It was Dopple who finally stepped in, opening the paper up and reading through a line of text. “Pinkie died this morning.” A moment of silence. Dopple turned the paper over with a puzzled expression. “That’s it. That’s all it says.”

“Give me that!” Shetland ordered, snatching the paper from Dopple’s grasp. His eyes scanned the same line. He turned the paper over. He shook his head. “Pinkie died this morning.” He looked up and glared at Monobunny. “I thought you said this was vital information. This tells us nothing!”

“Au contraire,” Monobunny said mockingly. “It gives you just the right amount of information. No more, no less! If I told you too much the case would be too obvious. Not enough and it might even be impossible! And before anyone tries using semantics to claim the Monobunny files aren’t accurate, my declaration of honesty is passed down onto anything I give in writing. Everything else is up to you to deduce. I really do genuinely hope you all solve this case!”

“A blatant lie,” Dish Panner scoffed. “Why would you wish us luck?”

“I’m tired of repeating myself, you know. Besides, of course I want you to find the culprit. That means the game will continue and even more murders will occur! Well, that’s it from me. Use your time wisely! Once I say time is up, time’s up! You’ll have to stop your investigation right away! Goodbye, my budding detectives!” Moving with shocking speed, Monobunny darted through the doors to the female locker room and disappeared, leaving the fourteen of us to contemplate what he’d said.

“We don’t have a choice,” Mesmer said matter-of-factly, cutting through the silence. “Our best chance of survival is to do as he says.”

“You’re right,” Inky said, wiping her eyes. “We can’t get justice for Pinkie by standing around doing nothing.”

They were right. We were merely rats in a maze, just as we had been since the start. Monobunny wasn’t to be defied. And as terrifying as his presence was, there was something even scarier. One of us was Pinkie’s killer. One of us had murdered that cheerful, friendly mare in an attempt to escape. There was no getting around it no matter how much I didn’t want to believe. I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for the task ahead. My investigation had begun!


== Investigation Start! ==


First, I checked the slip of paper that Shetland and Dopple had read. As expected, their description was accurate. Although it seemed worthless, the information at least crossed off one possibility.


Truth Bullet Added: Monobunny File #1



Pinkie died this morning.


Next, I moved towards Pinkie’s body which still lay on the diving board, her blank stare sending a shiver up my spine. Without realizing it, I bumped into Dopple. “Greyscale,” she said, squinting as she looked into my eyes. “Are you okay? I mean, all things considered.”

“Yeah,” I replied hoarsely. “It’s a shock, but we’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

Dopple nodded. “Then should we work together? It’ll help us figure this out a bit quicker.”

“Alright. First we should examine Pinkie’s body.”

“Agreed.” Dopple turned to the others. “Can one of the unicorns lower Pinkie’s body onto the ground, please?”

“Wait,” Elsie said. “Won’t that incur a punishment?”

“Not so,” Scalpel said. “According to the rules you’re only punished if you use levitation on a living participant, not a dead one.” Focusing her magic, she enveloped Pinkie’s body in a warm orange glow and lowered her slowly and delicately to the floor, the keycard around her neck swinging gently like a pendulum. Now that she was right in front of us I couldn’t help but remark at how peaceful she looked. In a way, she was rather beautiful. 

“I’ll see her over,” Scalpel said. “As a qualified surgeon, I can look for certain signs.”

Dopple’s expression grew wary. “With all due respect I would rather not leave Pinkie’s body alone to one pony. At this point every single one of us is a suspect and should be treated as such. Perhaps someone else could help you?”

“I can,” Maribelle said, approaching us from behind. She was still in her maid outfit, not having had the chance to go swimming for obvious reasons. Rather than looking distraught her face bore an air of determination. “I have extensive first aid knowledge, perhaps not to the fair doctor’s level but enough to give an accurate post-mortem.”

Dopple nodded. “Thank you, Maribelle.” She turned to me. “Let’s leave this job to them and come back later.”

“Right.” We began to walk towards the store room when I noticed something. “Dopple, when we were here earlier, weren’t the windows open?”

“I think so,” Dopple replied. She stepped towards Shetland who was stood a few feet away, looking over Pinkie’s body forlornly. “Shetland, you and Scalpel checked this place earlier. Were the windows open when you came in?”

Shetland rubbed his chin. “Actually, they were open when we arrived but Dr. Scalpel closed them. Something about covering certain bases while we looked for Pinkie and Inky.”


Truth Bullet Added: Swimming Area Windows



The windows were open during the morning but were closed by Dr. Scalpel during the search for Inky and Pinkie. After finding Pinkie’s body the windows were still closed. There are no handles on the exterior meaning the windows can only be opened from the inside.


“Thank you,” Dopple said. Together we walked towards the store room. It was dim inside but enough could be seen to allow a search. Sanscript and Dish Panner were inside, working their way through stacks of swimming floats. “You find anything?”

“Nothing,” Sanscipt replied. “We’ve levitated every single float and pawed at every corner but nothing has turned up. The only object of potential interest is the ladder but I fail to see how that has any bearing on Pinkie’s death.”


Truth Bullet Added: Ladder



An old wooden ladder can be found in the store room.


Thinking back, it occurred to me that something else was found here earlier, something potentially important.


Truth Bullet Added: Pinkie’s Towel



During the search for Pinkie and Inky, Shetland and Dr. Scalpel discovered a towel in the swimming pool store room. Judging by its appearance it could have only belonged to Pinkie Pie.


Next, Dopple and I went to search the male locker room. She took a quick look at the machine gun tripod with security camera on top, pointing down on us from above. “This is off now but it would’ve been active at all times before Pinkie was discovered, right?”

“You’re right.” Now that there was no risk I took a moment to test a certain theory. I tried maneuvering the tripod to see if it was possible to adjust the machine gun’s positioning but to no avail. Either it was insanely heavy or it was bolted to the floor. Either way, it meant moving it was impossible. But then I thought of something. While the camera was a meter or so out of my reach, a pegasus wouldn’t have that problem. “Dopple, do you think you could try adjusting the camera?”

Dopple obliged immediately and leapt up, hovering in front of it. She tried twisting and lifting the camera from its post but it wouldn’t budge. “Unless I tried flying into it at speed there’s no way of pointing it in another direction, and if I did that I’d probably break it which would be against the rules. Hang on, I’ll check the other one.” She quickly zipped over and inspected the tripod next to the female locker room before coming back. “Same again,” she said. “Of course it’d defeat their purpose if you could just point them in another direction. We can check the outside ones but I expect they’ll be just the same.”


Truth Bullet Added: Machine Gun Cameras



There are four machine guns on the third floor, each one attached to a security camera. These look over the entrances on both sides of each locker room and instantly activate the machine gun if the camera spots a male trying to enter the female locker room or vice versa. According to Monobunny, the gunfire is impossible to dodge no matter how fast you are moving. The cameras cannot be moved. There are no signs that any shots have been fired.


We entered the male locker room, Button still recovering in the corner while Inky snooped around, looking baffled. Despite being distraught she was making a concerted effort to look for clues. “What happened in here?” she balked, pointing to the stack of locker doors. 

“Oh that,” I replied. “When we first came in here yesterday Shetland said we should remove the doors so nobody could hide any weapons. They didn’t technically break the locks, so Monobunny allowed it.”


Truth Bullet Added: Male Lockers



Yesterday the doors on each of the male lockers were torn off by Shetland and Yoko. The only items in the lockers are towels belonging to myself and Yoko which we left after our swim before the 8 o’ clock meeting.


“A good idea,” Dopple said, rummaging through the discarded doors and scanning them thoughtfully.

“You know,” Inky began, “I thought maybe someone could have used those doors to block a hail of bullets! But I checked them over and they all seem fine.”

Dopple finished looking them over. “Agreed. Though I think if you tried using something as thin as these as a bullet shield they’d be torn to shreds. Anyway, Inky, I have to ask something important. What were you doing this morning before you were picked up?”

“Oh.” Inky rubbed the back of her head bashfully. “I was outside the MonoMart a bit before seven o’ clock, waiting for it to open. Being able to run around and eat whatever I want in a store was a dream come true!”

“Were you there the whole time?”

“Yeah. As soon as the clock read seven the doors let me in and I walked around eating foods and drinking various… things. Only a few beers, mind you. Unfortunately, I completely lost track of time. Then Maribelle, Button and Dish Panner came along and told me Pinkie was missing.” She grimaced at those words. “Looking back, it was a stupid thing to do. I should’ve gone to see Pinkie early that morning but I didn’t think…”

“It’s okay,” Dopple said reassuringly. “None of us could have predicted this. By the way, while you were in the MonoMart did you see anyone else? That is, aside from when Maribelle’s group turned up.”

Inky shook her head. “No, nobody.”

“Are you sure? Nobody could’ve come in while you were unaware?”

“No way. I would’ve heard the greeting that plays when someone comes in, and the entrance is the only, well, entrance. I only heard it two times, first when I went in at seven and then later when Maribelle and the others came in.”


Truth Bullet Added: Inky’s Account



Inky was at the MonoMart from just before 7 o’ clock until being found during the search, roughly around 8:30. Nobody else entered the store during that time.


“It’s strange,” Dopple said, inspecting one of the lockers. “The lockers are incredibly spacious for no good reason.”

I shrugged. “Maybe Monobunny expected us to store all kinds of weapons.”

“What weapon would need this much space?” 

“A halberd!” Inky exclaimed. “Or maybe a cannon? Or how about a stone pillar?”

Button groaned from the corner. “No, that’s stupid!” He took a deep breath and wiped at his eyes. “I wish we’d kept the doors on, that way I’d have another hiding place if someone tried to kill me. And someone’s gonna try and kill me, I just know it!”

“We don’t know that yet,” Dopple said. 

“Yet!?” 

Leaving Button to his own devices, Dopple and I went back into the swimming pool area and were immediately faced with Mesmer bearing down on us with a stern glare. “You two. I need you to confirm Yoko’s story. The three of you entered the dining room last, just before eight o’ clock. Tell me, what were you doing before that?”

“We came here around half seven,” Dopple replied effortlessly, unfazed by Mesmer’s intimidating manner. “We swam for a little while and then came straight to the dining room.”

Mesmer’s frown intensified. “That’s all?”

“Yes.” Dopple motioned for me to respond.

“Uh, yeah. All we did was swim. Nothing out of the ordinary.”


Truth Bullet Added: Pre-Meeting Swim



Yoko, Dopple and I were in the swimming area roughly between 7:30 and 8 o’ clock. We didn’t come across anything suspicious at that time.


“Another thing.” Mesmer turned to me this time. “You and Copper were tasked with watching the stairwell between the first and second floor during the search. What did you see at that time?”

“Um, nothing. We didn’t see anyone move between floors and we kept watch until Shetland and Scalpel finished their search of the swimming area.”


Truth Bullet Added: Greyscale’s Account



During the search for Pinkie and Inky, Copper and I kept watch from the landing of the stairs leading to the third floor, watching the opposite stairwell that led down to the first floor. We were joined shortly by Scalpel and Shetland before searching other areas.


Without a response, Mesmer strode past us into the male locker room. 

“What’s up with him?” I remarked.

“Remember what Monobunny said,” Dopple replied. “Our investigation has a time limit. Mesmer’s just being careful. Come on, we should see if Scalpel and Maribelle have found anything about Pinkie’s body.”

We got our answer without fuss, Maribelle seeming somewhat elated as she told us. “Her neck is broken.”

I was stunned. “Really?”

“Yes, I can lift her head to show you how limp it is. It’s like a rag doll.”

“No thanks!” I blurted out, already uneasy enough just thinking about it. 

Dopple, however, was far braver than I was and took to prodding Pinkie’s head. “You’re right. Does she have any wounds, any marks, any other possible signs of injury?”

“No,” Scalpel said. “No bruising and no cuts of any kind. We thought perhaps she had drowned considering where she died but there are no signs of that.”

“It’s a real blessing,” Maribelle said exasperatedly. “It means Pinkie passed away quickly and without suffering. Such a thing is truly worth being thankful for. May all of us be lucky enough to drift into our eternal sleep painlessly.” She put her hooves together in prayer. I couldn’t help but be disturbed by this behavior, even if she may have had a point.


Truth Bullet Added: State of The Body



Pinkie suffered a broken neck. There are no signs of additional injuries or other possible causes of death.


Just as Dopple and I were able to walk away, Maribelle put out a hoof to stop me. “Oh, just a second, Greyscale. I’ve been meaning to ask, what did you find when you went inside Pinkie’s room during the search? I saw Shetland break in through the window and I was watching intently. I really did believe Pinkie had been in there since morning and I find it hard to believe she was already gone.”

“Sorry,” I replied. “It was just as you all saw it later on.”


Truth Bullet Added: Pinkie’s Room



During the search Shetland broke into Pinkie’s room through the window and opened it from the inside, allowing Copper, Scalpel and myself to search it. Despite this we found no clues as to her whereabouts.


Dopple and I walked into the female locker room this time in which Reph and Elsie were inspecting. It looked identical to the male locker room but with the layout in reverse. However, all of the lockers still had their doors intact.

“Wait here,” Dopple said to me before walking back out to the pool area. “Excuse me!” she shouted. “Could every mare please come to the female locker room? This is vital to our investigation.” After a minute or so all seven mares were gathered inside. “Now,” Dopple began, stepping in front of her locker. “We’ll all use our keycards to open our lockers. Anyone who refuses will be treated as suspicious. All agreed?”

There were a few mumblings before each mare obliged and their lockers were spread wide open, baring all. They were all empty except for Dopple’s, which contained her towel from the morning swim. In an effort to denounce suspicion she allowed the rest of them to unravel it, to which they found nothing. Only one locker was left.

Dopple and I approached Pinkie’s body again, our focus on the keycard tied around her neck by a black cord, the same as everyone else’s. “We’ll need Scalpel’s help,” she said, holding the card up. “Our keycards can’t be removed and the cord is too short to lift over her head, same as everyone else’s. We don’t have anything to cut it with so the easiest way is for someone to levitate her body over to her locker and then–”

Before Dopple could finish her sentence, Pinkie’s keycard came off in her hoof, the cord snapping neatly. 

“How did you do that?” I balked. I tried pulling at my own keycard to see if it would do the same. Just as before, the cord around my neck remained intact. 

“I don’t know. I just yanked it a little and it gave way.” Dopple inspected the two ends of the cord. “This looks like a very precise cut. But this doesn’t make sense. If it was like this when we got here it should have fallen off. When Scalpel lowered Pinkie’s body the keycard was swinging freely, just as you’d expect.” She held the two ends up to me. “There’s a slight discoloration on both ends, possibly some kind of substance.”


Truth Bullet Added: Pinkie’s Keycard



During the investigation the cord around Pinkie’s neck snapped after Dopple pulled the keycard. The cut is decidedly neat, not the result of a vicious tear. Both ends appear to have a small amount of translucent substance on them.


“Regardless, now we have it,” Dopple said. The two of us walked back to the locker room where Elsie, Dish Panner and Inky remained, exchanging information. To their surprise, Dopple walked up to Pinkie’s locker and opened it. “This is…” Inside was the inflatable ring Pinkie had obtained from the MonoMart during Monobunny’s tour. It was deflated. 

Dish Panner sighed. “And here I thought you were about to find an important clue.”

Dopple ignored her, examining the ring closely. “This is odd,” she said, holding it up to the group. “It’s not just deflated, it’s been ripped open.” True to her word, there was a gaping hole in the material roughly three inches across. 


Truth Bullet Added: Inflatable Ring



Inside Pinkie’s locker we found the inflatable ring she’d taken from the MonoMart. It had been torn open, leaving a sizeable hole.


We’d amassed what seemed like only a few clues, the answer to the whole mystery eluding me. After checking the third-floor hallway and finding nothing, it seemed we’d exhausted all of our options. That was to be expected, really. The hour or so before the body announcement had been spent looking feverishly across the whole hotel, the MonoMart, the surrounding area, even Pinkie’s locked room which bore no traces of information. The only other place I could think was the extra room on the second floor, but none of us could have entered it. 

“We’ve looked everywhere,” I said to Dopple as we stood next to the swimming pool, scanning the water. Even the drains had been searched now without discovery, and the ultra-clear water had no way of hiding evidence from us. “There’s no choice but to wait until our time’s up.”

Dopple was deep in thought, her eyes slowly scanning the scene again and again. Suddenly she looked up and gasped. “The roof,” she uttered. “During the entire search not one of us went up on the roof.” She sprang to her hooves. “Could someone open one of the windows!?” she ordered. “And could Copper, Shetland and Reph accompany me?”

“What’s this about?” Shetland asked.

“The four of us are pegasi, which means we’re the only ones who can go up on the roof. We need to make sure there’s nothing up there before our time runs out. Quickly!”

Dopple’s request was granted. Scalpel twisted the window’s handle open with her magic and the group of four fluttered outside. A few minutes later they returned. 

“Did you find anything?” Elsie asked.

“No,” Shetland answered. “It was worth checking, though. Good idea, Dopple.”

Dopple, rather than looking disappointed, remained unfazed. She walked straight towards Maribelle. “Can I ask you something?”

“Oh, of course.”

“What happened when you and Button got here, just before the body announcement?”

Maribelle took a moment to think. “We each went to our own locker room. I was just about to undress when I heard Button scream. I ran through the swinging doors and saw Pinkie lying there on the diving board. I just couldn’t believe it and I stood there in shock. That’s when I heard Monobunny’s announcement.” She grimaced. “I know I’m the one who found the body, but you don’t think I did this, do you?”

“I can’t say for sure,” Dopple replied. 

Maribelle sighed heavily. “I understand. I just wish we could all believe in each other. I still have faith that all of us are innocent. I think this is just one of Monobunny’s tricks.”

Mesmer scoffed behind her. “Stop being so naïve. It’ll get you killed.”


*DING DONG DONG DING*


Once again we heard Monobunny’s shrill tone emanate throughout the room. “Your time is up! The investigation is now over. Please make your way out into the courtyard and through the entrance to the courthouse for your first murder trial! Don’t dilly-dally or I’ll have to punish you! See you there!”

“Courthouse?” Elsie cried. “I remember no such thing!”

“Even so,” Mesmer said, already walking, “we can’t stay here. Thanks to someone who couldn’t help but slaughter for their own gain we’ve no choice but to debase ourselves to this insanity.” Without looking back he strode through the locker room and out the other side.

“He’s right,” Copper said, trotting weakly in his direction. “We’d better go.”

The rest of us followed tentatively, Inky offering a somber goodbye to Pinkie as we left. My heart was pounding rapidly. I couldn’t help but think I’d missed something vital, some piece of the puzzle that would shed light on the truth. If there was, I’d missed my chance forever. If we couldn’t solve the mystery of Pinkie’s demise it would mean death for all of us and freedom for the killer. I knew I couldn’t let that happen. 

As soon as we’d made it outside the hotel a strange sight appeared before us. The wall that had concealed the room with shackles had been lowered, but instead of the same bare, white stone walls was a black cave, a set of double doors bearing the design of Monobunny’s split monochrome visage. Nobody had to ask; we all knew where we were headed. Once through the doors we entered a tunnel, a set of stairs leading down into a pitch-black abyss.

“I don’t like this!” Sancript yelped, backing away. “It’s like we’re being led into the depths of Tartarus itself!” 

“I want to go home!” Button cried, clinging onto Maribelle for dear life. 

To everyone’s surprise it was Inky who stepped forward first, small lightbulbs sparking to life on either side of the wall and lighting the way. “None of us are backing down,” she said defiantly, her face unflinching. It was a startling transformation from her earlier behavior. “We’re here to avenge Pinkie Pie, okay? I refuse to let the killer get away with what they did to her!” Inky began her march down the stairs, the sound of her hooves echoing in the dim light.

“She’s right,” Yoko said, his face scrunched up into a scowl. “Pinkie didn’t deserve this. Her friend Applejack is watching this, right?” He turned towards a security camera pointing down the flight of stairs. “Don’t you worry, Applejack. We’ll get justice for her!” 

The two ponies’ fervor spread to the rest of the group. One by one we took our first steps, soon culminating in a cacophony of hooves on stone as all fourteen of us moved as one. I was still hesitant, finding myself merely going through the motions. I exchanged a glance with Dopple, her expression resolute. Copper, however, was limp and sullen, her gaze locked to the floor. She had perhaps been the most pessimistic of all of us and now her fears had come to fruition. I had no idea what I could even say to her.

And so we descended, the stairs stretching onwards and taking us deeper underground. The doors from which we’d entered creaked and finally closed, though from my quick glance behind us I couldn’t see anyone else up there. The only way forward was down. After about two minutes of walking the two lines of lights came to an end and we were faced with an ornate mahogany door without any handle to speak of. It towered above us all and stretched almost the entire width of the walkway.

Copper pressed a hoof up to its surface. “How do we get inside?”

Just as she spoke the door began to creak open of its own accord, revealing a most astonishing sight. The room before us was a colossal dome as big as an opera house, rows of wooden benches at least fifteen deep stretching around the circumference, its seats filled with hundreds of security cameras, all bobbing up and down excitedly on tripods. A red carpet lay at out at our hooves leading to a grand, circular stage, a bevvy of spotlights lighting it up like a gleaming white jewel. Suspended above the stage by chains and scaffolding hung from rafters was a golden stool upon which sat Monobunny, his paws gripping a gavel that stood as tall as he was. As we all reacted in stunned surprise a raucous applause began to emanate from the room, permeated with whoops and hollers from an invisible crowd.

“Don’t be shy!” Monobunny called, waving his gavel in greeting. “Step right up and take your place!”

We plodded forward tentatively, the security cameras rotating to track our movement as we made our way towards the stage. It quickly became obvious that there were semicircular sections indented into the outskirts of the stage with electric blue runes pulsing on the floor. A profile picture of each participant on a rectangular sign pointed outwards, accessible from individual sets of stairs. We all searched for our space, mine positioned between Scalpel and Maribelle. Once everyone had entered their station there was a low humming sound, each rune shining brighter until finally there was a loud clap, and we were all surrounded by streams of blue, wispy light that rose up the ceiling, encasing us in magical pillars.

“These magical runes will prevent you from leaving your posts until the trial is over and the accused has been chosen.”

I tried reaching outside of the pillar, only for my hoof to be blocked by an invisible force. I looked around in wonder, watching as others tried escaping their confines. There was the sound of a metallic crank and the signs with our pictures slid along a semicircular rail until they were behind us, allowing me to view the entire group and their signs along with them. It was then that I noticed Pinkie’s empty post, her sign tarnished with an ‘X’ splattered in red paint, exhibiting her status as deceased. But something else was far more curious – a spot between Button and Shetland with a sign that bore a black question mark. This stage was clearly made for sixteen.

“Wait,” Sanscript said. “We’re all here, so who does that one belong to?”

“Never you mind that,” Monobunny said, turning on his stall and waving a paw in Sanscript’s direction. “What concerns you all right now is the trial pertaining to the death of Pinkie Pie. May I call silence from the audience?” The blare of applause and cheering quieted to a distant whisper. “Now, are you all ready?”

I could feel the tension rising, my pulse quickening, my joints weakening, sweat dripping from my forehead. Someone among us was a murderer. They had cut down Pinkie Pie. Our fates were in our hooves now. Solve the case and live. Fail the case and die. I had to survive. I couldn’t let the killer go free. 

Monobunny slammed his gavel down on the stool. I took a deep breath and grit my teeth. 

“Let the trial commence!”
> Investigation One - Truth Bullets
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

· Monobunny File #1: Pinkie died this morning.

· Swimming Area Windows: The windows were open during the morning but were closed by Dr. Scalpel during the search for Inky and Pinkie. After finding Pinkie’s body the windows were still closed. There are no handles on the exterior meaning the windows can only be opened from the inside.

· Ladder: An old wooden ladder can be found in the store room.

· Pinkie’s Towel: During the search for Pinkie and Inky, Shetland and Dr. Scalpel discovered a towel in the swimming pool store room. Judging by its appearance it could have only belonged to Pinkie Pie.

· Machine Gun Cameras: There are four machine guns on the third floor, each one attached to a security camera. These look over the entrances on both sides of each locker room and instantly activate the machine gun if the camera spots a male trying to enter the female locker room or vice versa. According to Monobunny the gunfire is impossible to dodge no matter how fast you are moving. The cameras cannot be moved. There are no signs that any shots have been fired.

· Male Lockers: Yesterday the doors on each of the male lockers were torn off by Shetland and Yoko. The only items in the lockers are towels belonging to myself and Yoko which we left after our swim before the 8 o’ clock meeting.

· Inky’s Account: Inky was at the MonoMart from just before 7 o’ clock until being found during the search, roughly around 8:30. Nobody else entered the store during that time.

· Pre-Meeting Swim: Yoko, Dopple and I were in the swimming area roughly between 7:30 and 8 o’ clock. We didn’t come across anything suspicious at that time.

· Greyscale’s Account: During the search for Pinkie and Inky, Copper and I kept watch from the landing of the stairs leading to the third floor, watching the opposite stairwell that led down to the first floor. We were joined shortly by Scalpel and Shetland before searching other areas.

· State of The Body: Pinkie suffered a broken neck. There are no signs of additional injuries or other possible causes of death.

· Pinkie’s Room: During the search Shetland broke into Pinkie’s room through the window and opened it from the inside, allowing Copper, Scalpel and myself to search it. Despite this we found no clues as to her whereabouts.

· Pinkie’s Keycard: During the investigation the cord around Pinkie’s neck snapped after Dopple pulled the keycard. The cut is decidedly neat, not the result of a vicious tear. Both ends appear to have a small amount of translucent substance on them.

· Inflatable Ring: Inside Pinkie’s locker we found the inflatable ring she’d taken from the MonoMart. It had been torn open leaving a sizeable hole.

 

Hotel floor maps:


Hotel Floor 1

Hotel Floor 2

Hotel Floor 3

> TRIAL GUIDE: How To Solve
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


How To: Trials


Now for an explanation of the rules! For those of you who are familiar with the mechanics of the Danganronpa video game series you may already know these things so this will merely be a refresher, but for those of you who are unfamiliar this simple set of rules will have you solving cases in no time!

While solving each individual part of the trial is not vital (since I will upload the next part regardless of whether someone correctly solves it or not) you may still wish to participate by putting your answers in the comments. I will keep track of whoever manages to be the first to guess the trickier ones or who manages to guess the culprit when the time comes.

Remember, this is not a fanfic where you are expected to be able to solve the entire case before the trial has even begun as some information may not be revealed until partway through the trial and some testimonies might be inaccurate, either accidentally or purposefully. Instead, I have chosen specific points in the trial in which I believe it would be possible to guess the culprit and simultaneously make it the time for the readers to cast their vote and for Greyscale to make his accusation, pushing the trial forward and solving the last few lingering mysteries of the case!

The trials are split up into different activities, as follows:


Non-stop Debates


These are the crux of the trials and make up the majority of activities. In a non-stop debate the characters discuss and argue their points in trying to solve something. A simplified version of a non-stop debate will look something like this:


Truth Bullets



Coffee Stain



Broken Vase



Can of Tuna


Eddy: There’s no mistake, the killer was drinking coffee!

Freddy: That’s not possible, the instant coffee was in the other room.

Kenny: Besides, there’s no sign anyone drank coffee. 

You’ll notice some of the words are written in bold orange. This is where your truth bullets come in! By using the correct truth bullet (Coffee stain) you can argue against the point being made. But this isn’t the only way truth bullets can be used. Here’s another example:


Truth Bullets



Can of Tuna



Cut Telephone Wire



Bag of Sausages


Benny: If the killer broke in from outside it would have alerted the victim!

Lenny: Couldn’t they have gotten help from the outside by calling us? And yet they didn’t!

Olly: What if the killer had done something to prevent them calling.

The words written in blue italics show that these words can be agreed with. In this instance the correct truth bullet (Cut Telephone Wire) means Olly is correct in his assumption. Some non-stop debates will have a mixture of statements that can be agreed or disagreed with, so remember the difference. However, there is also one other possible situation that can arise in a non-stop debate:


Truth Bullets



Bottle of Whisky



Can of Tuna



Tiny Violin


Molly: We found the body in the garden, next to the pile of cinder blocks.

Dolly: But didn’t it seem like they were killed in the kitchen?

Bodger: I guess the killer dragged them into the garden.

Badger: That’s not possible. The door has sharp edges so we should’ve seen some kind of mark on the body. After all, it always swings shut. There’s no way to prop it open while carrying the body.

What’s going on? None of the truth bullets match any of the statements! If you find a situation like this you may have to transform one of the statements into a truth bullet! In this case (pile of cinder blocks) counters the statement no way to prop it open while carrying the body. Be aware that in cases like this only the words in bold orange can be transformed into truth bullets and they can only be used to disagree with other bold orange statements. They cannot be used to agree with those in blue italics. 


Cross Sword Battles


These are similar to Non-Stop Debates but concern a heated debate between Greyscale and one other character. Only bold orange statements appear and under no circumstances can character statements be turned into truth bullets. This is a straight up battle between two opponents crossing swords where truth bullets become Truth Blades. Here’s an example:


Mary vs Maria



Truth Blades



Equestrian Flag



Can of Tuna



Giant Magnet



 


Maria: So you say the killer drilled through the metal door. How do you propose they did that?


Mary: By using the contraption we found in the shed.


Maria: Are you forgetting this took place in a wind tunnel? Did they turn the fan off?


Mary: No, of course not. Access to the power source wasn’t available at the time.


Maria: Then your accusation is ridiculous. Drilling through the door would’ve left scraps of metal flying about and out of the window. Tell me, did we find anything like that?


Mary: Well… no.


Maria: I thought so. In that case, it couldn’t have happened.

A very strange scenario… but there is an answer! In this case the truth blade (Giant Magnet) solves the problem of the scraps of metal. What an odd murder this must have been…


Anagram


This one is simple. Sometimes there will be an answer you need to deduce that isn’t listed in any of your truth bullets or in previous chapters. In cases like these a question will be proposed followed by a set of letters. You just need to rearrange them to find the answer!


 



What could have been used as a battering ram?



F L A G R A N T  C O C K  H E R D


A very strange phrase indeed… but the answer is actually GRANDFATHER CLOCK, the item which could have been used as a battering ram. All of the letters must be used to decipher the answer, not just a few of them.


Final Panic


Occurring at the end of the trial after most of the case has been solved, one final mystery stands between Greyscale and solving the murder, leaving no stone left unturned and forcing the killer to accept defeat! Here, instead of speaking statements for you to tear apart and disagree with, the opposing character will only speak OBJECTIVE FACTS in an attempt to prove their innocence. They will then ask one final question to be answered while taking into account each of the facts that they have put forward. Here’s an example:


Final Panic vs Polly


I couldn’t have teleported inside the room!


There was a barrier stopping me from getting through the window!



Olly was watching the doorway in the morning!



I was present at the meeting after lunch!


Not long after that I was with Dolly and Molly in the garden!


I didn’t go back into the house until after the body was discovered!



 



How could I have gotten into the room to commit the murder!?



 


In these instances there are no clues or anagrams to help, you simply need to answer the question using detective work based on knowledge from previous events. Once this has been done the accused will have nowhere left to run and Greyscale will give a rundown of the case. Be sure to come back to this information at any time if you are lost!
> Trial One - Part 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Now then, let’s begin with a simple explanation of the killing game trial! During the trial you will present your arguments for who the killer is and vote for ‘whodunit.’ If you vote correctly then only the guilty will receive punishment and the game will continue. But if you vote incorrectly… Then I’ll execute everyone besides the killer, and they will earn the right to leave the dome and be free in the outside world!”

“Before we begin,” Mesmer said, looking suspiciously at the blank sixteenth spot, “I’d like to confirm that there is truly a killer among those present.”

“Absolutely! As much as you’d like to believe that a super-secret sixteenth participant has been sneaking around and killed Pinkie while you were all unaware, that didn’t happen!”

“So what!?” Elsie cried. “We still can’t be sure that you killed her!”

Monobunny hung his head in mock disappointment. “Again and again you miscreants doubt my honesty… Go ahead and believe what you want but remember that your fate is in my paws! When the time comes to vote and you either vote for me or abstain from voting completely I’ll execute you without a second thought! So you’d better let go of that notion or face your own demise!”

Elsie shook nervously, her glasses nearly falling off her muzzle. “You beast!”

“I don’t want to believe it either,” Maribelle said woefully. “I thought we were all getting along just fine. Who would want to kill Pinkie Pie? Her unspeakable transgression against her friend Applejack notwithstanding.”

“Anyone might,” Copper said. “Let’s not forget that we’re stuck in here with no way out except murder. Can we really say we can trust everyone here not to get desperate?”

Yoko shook his head disgruntledly. “If only we’d done more to keep everyone safe. This is all your fault, Shetland! You and your stupid plans! All that talk of protecting innocents and you let one of us die!

“I did everything I could!” Shetland blared. “I couldn’t exactly force us all to sleep in the same room and have us follow each other to the bathroom. And how was I supposed to know someone would die within one day!?”

“Someone got desperate,” Copper interjected. “They wanted to beat everyone to the punch and escape before we knew what hit us.”

“Even so!” Shetland exhaled unsteadily. “We had yet to properly check the area for an escape route. I didn’t think–”

“Exactly!” Yoko chided. “You didn’t think!”

“Now, now,” Scalpel said softly. “What’s done is done. We should be focusing on this trial. The question is, where do we start?”

“I’m not sure,” Sanscript said, rubbing his temples. “There are so many things about this that don’t make sense. It almost feels like an impossible murder.”

“Let’s stick to the basics,” Dopple said. “First, we need to determine exactly how Pinkie died. The Monobunny File tells us she died this morning, so let’s start there.”

“Right!” Inky exclaimed, looking determined. “I already have a theory for that!”

“Oh, how thrilling!” Monobunny beamed. “Your very first debate! Let’s get this party well and truly started!”

Just as Monobunny finished speaking there was the sound of a motor, and then I almost lost my balance as the floor beneath me began to move, the entire stage slowly revolving as multi-colored lights danced across it. It felt akin to a wacky games-show set. I planted my hooves in place and braced myself. We were going to find the truth of the matter!


Truth Bullets



Ladder



State of The Body



Machine Gun Cameras



Pinkie’s Towel


 

Sanscript: Pinkie’s body was found on the diving board. Perhaps she was pushed from the window and fell from too great a height?

Elsie: But the diving board wasn’t hard enough to have caused such an injury.

Shetland: Also, it would’ve been difficult to miss the pool if that were the case, even if she was pushed.

Dish Panner: Exactly. The killer must have attacked her and then placed the body on the diving board. 

Button: But how did they kill her? We didn’t find any murder weapons!

Inky: They didn’t need a murder weapon. She was in the swimming area, right? She must have drowned! The killer held her head under the water until she stopped breathing!

Reph: But if she drowned then there’s a possibility that she wasn’t killed at all. She could have committed suicide!

Inky: Pinkie wouldn’t have done that!

Sanscript: We can’t be sure. She wasn’t in such a great state before going to bed last night. 

Copper: So she killed herself and was dragged out of the water? Who would even do that?

Mesmer: We’re not getting anywhere like this…

Wait, someone said something that doesn’t make sense. I just need to present my evidence!
> Trial One - Part 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“NO, THAT’S WRONG!”



State of The Body <> She must have drowned!



< Argument Break >


“I don’t think she drowned,” I said, my statement stopping the stage’s movement and reverting the spotlights back to their original, static positions. “Maribelle and Doctor Scalpel undertook an autopsy and found that to not be the case. Moreover, they discovered she had a broken neck.”

“Oh, really?” Inky said, looking flustered. “I didn’t realize.”

Sanscript furrowed his brow. “A broken neck. How could that have happened? Was she struck on the head with a weapon of some kind?”

“No,” Maribelle said. “The Doctor and I found no bruises or marks on her body that would indicate such a thing. From what we could tell her broken neck was the only injury she suffered.”

“So then…” Sanscript trailed off, looking worriedly around the room. “Someone here snapped her neck with their own hooves, much like a ninja?”

“Aha!” Button cried, stomping a hoof down fiercely. “That means we can narrow our suspects down to just two: Shetland and Yoko! They’re the only ones big and strong enough to do such a thing!”

Suddenly the two stallions found themselves under harsh gazes. “Wait!” Yoko cried. “You can’t assume that because of our size!”

“He’s right,” Dopple interjected. “Even if that is indeed how Pinkie was killed, we can’t say for sure that nobody else is capable. Raw strength wouldn’t be the only thing necessary; anyone here with the relevant martial arts knowledge could have potentially done such a thing. We know nothing about each other, so can we say for sure that none of us are able simply based on appearance?”

“What about telekinesis?” Inky asked. “Wouldn’t that make it easier?”

Dopple shook her head. “The rules already stated that using magic on other participants is prohibited, so unless she was killed by some other method and then had her neck broken afterwards, none of the unicorns present could have done such a thing. And since she didn’t show any other injuries I think it’s safe to say that couldn’t have happened. Her broken neck was the cause of death.”

“I still don’t get it,” Dish Panner said, tapping her chin. “None of us saw her all morning and then suddenly she winds up dead out of nowhere.”

“The question is,” Sanscript began, “how Pinkie could have been murdered within that timeframe. If the search was completed without finding her, and each group stuck together, how could the killer have then found her and killed her?”

“Unless someone is lying,” Copper stated. “What’s to say someone here is being protected, even at the cost of the protector’s life? How can we be sure some of us here don’t already know each other and worked together for someone to go free? Either that, or some of us here have been on Monobunny’s side from the very beginning.”

“We can’t assume that,” Mesmer said. “If we start going down that path then we’ll end up speculating on wild theories forever. We should be viewing this as any normal murder scenario.”

Shetland nodded. “The problem is where to start. All we know for sure is the murder method and nothing else.”

“Oh, I know,” Maribelle said, raising a hoof. “How about her actions and movements this morning? That way we can figure out how she died.”

Elsie rolled her eyes. “But none of us saw her. How could we possibly work out what she was doing before she was killed?”

“Still,” Dopple said, “we might be able to find something out if we talk it through.”

“Agreed,” Shetland said. “One of us here has to know something.”

I began thinking hard, trying to remember if any clues to Pinkie’s whereabouts had been known prior to her body being found. Nothing came to mind. But there has to be an answer somewhere…



Truth Bullets



Pre-Meeting Swim



Pinkie’s Keycard



Pinkie’s Towel



Ladder



 


Scalpel: Aside from the killer, none of us saw Pinkie this morning. 

Elsie: We were all in the dining hall by eight apart from Inky, so she’s the only one who might’ve seen her before the search!

Inky: But I didn’t see her, I swear!

Reph: Is it possible she could’ve been in her room during the search, which is why we couldn’t find her?

Shetland: But we searched her room, remember? She was nowhere to be found.

Maribelle: Unless she left her room before you broke the window, and walked off while we were all busy searching? 

Yoko: We can’t know for sure that she made her way up to the third floor while we were distracted. We were still searching all the available rooms, so it’s possible she snuck past?

Elsie: It would be quite the coincidence in timing.

Copper: But remember before Shetland broke in he didn’t break the window at first. If Pinkie heard someone banging at her window she might’ve run off, worried that someone was there to kill her.

Shetland: The curtains were closed at the time so I couldn’t see into the room. I can’t say for sure whether she left before any of us got inside.

Maribelle: It does sound convincing. After all, there was no sign she’d left her room before then. 

Button: Maybe she was hiding someplace else, though?

Sanscript: Not possible. We would’ve found her during the search.

Inky: I’ve got it! She was hiding on the roof! That’s why we couldn’t find her!

Button: What!? But how could she have gotten up there without any wings?

It’s true we don’t know exactly what Pinkie was up to this morning, but we can narrow it down based on evidence. I just need to prove it!
> Trial One - Part 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“NO, THAT’S WRONG!”



Pinkie’s Towel <> no sign she’d left her room before then



< Argument Break >




“Actually,” I said, “we can say for sure she’d left her room earlier than that.”

“How can you know?” Dish Panner asked. “None of us saw her.”

“Shetland and Dr. Scalpel found Pinkie’s towel in the swimming pool storage room. This was before we’d even tried to get into her room.”

“So?” Elsie said in a snarky tone. “What’s to say she didn’t take it there last night?”

“Well…” I could feel a burning anxiety as I realized I was suddenly the center of attention, everyone silent and simply waiting for my response. “She couldn’t have, right? The swimming pool area was closed off by the time we left the dining room last night.”

“You’re right,” Dopple said in agreement, giving me an encouraging smile. “Not to mention, the only place you can find Pinkie’s towels is in her room, which means she had to have left her room at some point before the search took place. Good thinking, Greyscale.”

I instinctively looked away in embarrassment. “Th… thank you.”

“Oh, come off it,” Mesmer said, rolling his eyes. “That much was obvious from the beginning. The real question is how Pinkie’s towel got there in the first place. Either she took it to the swimming area herself or it was moved there by the killer after she left her room.”

“She might have gone early,” Inky piped up, “just like me when I went to the MonoMart. Maybe she wanted to start the day off with a swim? And then she couldn’t be bothered to put it anywhere else and threw it in the storage room because it was nearer.”

“I don’t know,” Scalpel said. “The towel was right at the back, under a stack of floats. She couldn’t have just thrown it in there. It might have been the killer.”

Copper sighed annoyedly. “It just doesn’t make any sense. If it was Pinkie who put the towel there, why in such an odd place? And if it was the killer, why would they put it there?”

“I know why!” Inky said, raising a hoof. “Pinkie tried to escape from the killer by hiding in the storage room and when they tracked her down and killed her, she dropped the towel.”

“Unlikely,” Shetland replied. “It couldn’t have merely been dropped under the floats like that. I’m thinking it was put there in the hopes that we wouldn’t find it. The room itself doesn’t have a light so without a thorough search it could have easily been missed. If that were the case there’d be no clue that Pinkie had already left her room.”

“So then…” Inky trailed off, hanging her head in defeat. “Yeah, I’ve got nothing.”

“Let’s forget the towel for now,” Dopple suggested. “We know that Pinkie left her room before the search took place.”

“In that case,” Sanscript said, “there’s only one possibility.” He nodded to himself assuredly. “I have figured out those responsible for Pinkie’s death!”

“Y-you have?!” Reph exclaimed. “Oh, you saint! Tell us now so the guilty can be outed!”

The atmosphere became electric in an instant, everyone’s curiosity piqued by Sanscript’s grand proclamation. I couldn’t help but wonder, had he really figured it all out? The stage began to revolve once more as we entered into a heated debate!


Truth Bullets



Pre-Meeting Swim



Swimming Area Windows



Greyscale’s Account



Inflatable Ring



 


Sanscript: It’s clear to me that we have not just one killer, but two!

Dish Panner: What!? How could that be!?

Sanscript: The two co-operated with each other to kill Pinkie and hide the evidence. And they are Shetland Yard and Doctor Scalpel!

Shetland: Simply outrageous! How can you make such an accusation?

Scalpel: Shetland is right, we did no such thing.

Sanscript: Ah, but you see, the two of you went to the swimming area during the search. If you were both in cahoots, you could have killed her and left the body while we were all busy searching!

Elsie: But why would they have helped each other?

Inky: They have been buddy-buddy since we got here. Do you think they already knew each other? 

Sanscript: Whatever the reason, it’s the only thing I can think of. They must have dragged Pinkie to the swimming area before the meeting and killed her! Then when it came to the search, they just needed to make sure nobody else came inside and saw Miss Pinkie Pie. They were the only ones who went there before Maribelle found the body!

Copper: Would they have really left the body out in the open like that? 

Reph: W-well… for the trial to commence the body needed to be found. Maybe they were hoping for that to happen but when we made a fuss over Inky and Pinkie being missing they had to come up with a plan!

Copper: But if that’s the case it wouldn’t have mattered who searched there, the body would have been found anyway no matter what. And why reveal the towel to everyone if they could’ve kept that hidden too?

Sanscript: No matter! They clearly worked together to commit the murder. Unless anyone else can think of a better theory. 

Shetland: Your theory is wrong!

Sanscript: Can you really prove that? How else could this have happened!?

Shetland: …

Scalpel: We didn’t kill her…

Something about Sanscript’s accusation doesn’t sit right. I just need to point it out to the rest of the group before we get into a frenzy!
> Trial One - Part 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“NO, THAT’S WRONG!”



Pre-Meeting Swim <> only ones who went there



< Argument Break >



 


“Wait, you’re wrong about something,” I declared. “You said Shetland and Dr. Scalpel were the only ones who went into the swimming area this morning, but that’s not true! Dopple, Yoko and I went swimming around half seven and only left when it was time for the meeting.”

“You did?” Sanscript balked. “Well, okay then, maybe Pinkie’s body had been left in the storage room, and then they moved it during the search.”

“I don’t think so,” Yoko said. “Dopple and Greyscale can vouch for me on this; while we were there I had a poke around in the storage room and all I found were floats and a ladder. I may not have seen Pinkie’s towel as I didn’t exactly do a full search, but I would’ve definitely noticed a dead body.”

Scalpel nodded. “When Shetland and I searched the room most of the floats were stacked neatly except for a few by the door, which I’m assuming are the ones Yoko had sifted through. A towel could have been easily concealed but a body most certainly could not.”

Sanscript’s cheeks grew red with embarrassment and fury. “Okay, fine! I was wrong! I was just trying to solve this thing and keep everyone alive!”

“Wow,” I heard Inky whisper, her hooves curled around her torso. “He’s so damn hot when he gets angry.”

“O-one thing puzzles me,” Reph said. “Discounting Sanscript’s theory, what’s to say that some of us were working together to kill Pinkie. If that’s the case, wouldn’t they both go free?”

“No way!” Monobunny chimed in. “Only one of you is allowed to escape. If there was an event where two or more of you worked together to commit murder I would only allow the one who landed the killing blow to go free! It might result in some unchivalrous kill stealing, but what’cha gonna do, eh?”

“S-so that settles it?” Reph said unsurely. “Now that we know this, any accomplices can come forward and just tell us who did it?”

“I still say,” Sanscript began, “that we can’t know for sure if there are other conspiracies afoot! Perhaps someone is working with Monobunny, or perhaps someone would be willing to sacrifice themselves to save a friend!”

“This again?” Mesmer huffed. “I told you all we need to abandon such logic.”

“Oh right,” Elsie said sarcastically. “This coming from the pony who could probably hypnotize any one of us into silence so he can make a quick getaway. Don’t think we’ve forgotten that, mister Ultimate Hypnotist!”

“But if we can’t be sure,” Button wailed, his hooves trembling, “how can we even solve this case!? How can we find the killer if a group of us worked together!?”

“Monobunny,” Dopple began, “can I ask if there were any accomplices involved in this case? Otherwise our trial can’t move forward.”

“Grr!” Monobunny stomped his feet hard against the stool. “I don’t like giving out information like this when you lot are supposed to be solving it yourselves, but since you’re being such whiny brats I may as well come out and say it! I can confirm with absolute certainty that there were no accomplices involved in the murder. The killer acted completely alone and carried it out by themselves. There, are you happy now? Can we please carry on with the trial?”

“Oh.” Sanscript hung his head ashamedly. “Forget I said anything then.”

“I’m disappointed,” Mesmer said, shaking his head. “I didn’t think you’d need to ask him, Dopple. I thought you might’ve already fig–” Mesmer stopped in his tracks, his mouth hung open for a second. Then he snapped it shut and gazed pensively at Dopple, the mare simply staring back blankly. Finally, a small grin appeared on Mesmer’s face, the first ever smile from the dark stallion since we’d arrived. “I see. Perhaps there is someone here worthy of my respect after all.”

I tried gauging what was going on as the two exchanged glances, my head spinning. Judging by everyone else’s reactions nobody had a clue what Mesmer was getting at.

“That aside,” Mesmer said, his expression reverting back to his usual stoic, oppressive gaze, “now that Monobunny has confirmed it we can stop running in circles and concentrate on solving the case.”

“It’s a tricky one,” Maribelle said, sighing. “We searched the entire hotel and the MonoMart and found nothing. It’s as if Pinkie’s body simply appeared out of thin air.”

“As for the search,” Dish Panner said, “if there were no accomplices then it makes it seem impossible. After all, everyone here stuck together as a group, even when we searched the rooms.”

“That’s not true!” Button exclaimed, his eyes wide. “Wait… wait! I’ve got it this time! I’ve figured out who the killer is!”

Mesmer tutted. “Listen, colt. We don’t have time for crazed theories from a teenager.”

“But Copper did break away from the group!” Button exclaimed. “She’s the only one who could’ve killed Pinkie! And I know just how she did it!”

“Hey!” Copper cried annoyedly. “Stop throwing around accusations!”

“But she did!” Button asserted. “You remember, don’t you Greyscale? She snuck away from the group while we were searching rooms!”

A lump caught in my throat. I could see Copper’s demeanor grow frantic as she became the target of a barrage of stares. She looked to me pleadingly, her face trembling. I felt a wave of guilt wash over me as I stood stock still. Copper wasn’t a bad pony, right? She could be abrasive and aggressive at times but really, she was just scared and in need of someone to back her up. 

“Well?” Mesmer called out to me. “Is Button telling the truth? Did Copper really break from the group?”

I took a deep breath and hid my face as I answered, not wanting to meet Copper’s gaze. “Yeah. Button’s right.”

“Greyscale!” Copper cried. I didn’t even have to look to know that there were tears in her eyes. “Please! You don’t think I killed her, do you!? I wouldn’t do that!”

“I can back it up too,” Maribelle said. “I saw Copper leave us as well.”

“Interesting,” Mesmer said. “This information is entirely new to me. Okay, Button. You’re free to make your claim.”

Button pushed out his chest proudly. “With pleasure!”


Truth Bullets



Greyscale’s Account



Male Lockers



Swimming Area Windows



Pinkie’s Room



Machine Gun Cameras



 


Button: Copper was the only one who broke away from the group. That means she has to be the killer!

Copper: I’m telling you, I didn’t!

Reph: Wait, when was it the she went off on her own?

Maribelle: It was during the room search. When we walked past the entrance hall she was at the back of the group and just walked out the door.

Copper: I was just getting something to drink from the MonoMart!

Button: That’s what you say, but you’re lying!

Yoko: So then, how do you know she did it?

Button: Easy! Copper snuck up on Pinkie early this morning and snapped her neck! Then she grabbed Pinkie’s body and flew up on the roof with it. That’s where it was hidden this whole time!

Elsie: So what did she do when she left the group? The body was found in the swimming area, remember?

Button: That’s why she had to leave during the search. Once she was alone she went up to the roof and brought Pinkie into the swimming area through one of the windows, then flew back out and went through the entrance again to meet up with us!

Elsie: How terrible! Copper, how could you!?

Shetland: It’s true nobody checked the roof until after we found Pinkie’s body. 

Sanscript: Not to mention, we didn’t start checking the rooms until after the swimming area had been searched. It all makes sense!

Did Copper really kill Pinkie? Button sounds pretty confident but I think there’s a hole in his theory. What is it!?
> Trial One - Part 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“NO, THAT’S WRONG!”



Swimming Area Windows <> through one of the windows



< Argument Break >


“You’re wrong, Button. Copper couldn’t have done that.”

“Oh yeah?” Button goaded. “You’re only saying that because you liiike her.”

“That’s not it at all!” I shot back. “Copper may have left the group but she would’ve been unable to pass through the swimming area windows. When Yoko, Dopple and I went swimming this morning they were open but by the time we found Pinkie’s body they were closed. Remember what you told me, Shetland?”

“Of course!” Shetland exclaimed. “The Doctor closed those windows while we searched the area. You can only open or close them from the inside so even if Copper had hidden Pinkie’s body up on the roof she would’ve been unable to take her to the swimming pool without flying through the whole hotel with Pinkie on her back.”

Button shrank back. “Well… then… Maybe that’s just what she did!”

“I don’t think so,” Dopple interjected. “Copper came back to us quickly, so unless she’s the greatest athlete on all of Equus it seems impossible. Plus, if she came to the roof and discovered that the windows were closed, wouldn’t she have chosen somewhere closer to display the body? Or not to have moved it at all? From that position the swimming area is literally the furthest possible point.”

Button growled furiously. “Fine! I was just trying to help but I’ll shut up forever if that’s what you want!”

“It’s not,” Dopple said softly. “You’re doing the exact same as everyone else here: trying to find the truth. You shared information that may have been important to this case. Even if you failed to find the culprit you still helped.”

“Dopple’s right,” Maribelle chimed in. “You’re being a very brave colt for speaking up and trying to solve the mystery.”

“I am?” Button wiped at his eyes and took a deep breath. “I guess so. Sorry, Copper.”

“It’s okay,” Copper replied, looking exasperated. “And Greyscale?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for backing me up.” Copper smiled wearily. “I was worried for a moment there.”

“Oh, no problem.” I felt my heart leap a little to hear such genuine appreciation. It might have even been the first time I’d experienced it in my life. Maybe that’s it, I thought to myself. I just need to keep chasing the truth and not doubt others on a whim.

“This raises a question,” Dish Panner said. “You say these windows could only have been opened from the inside, just like our room windows, correct? Well, what’s to stop a unicorn from opening them any side they want? If they can use levitation it should be no challenge for them.”

“That’s not actually the case,” Scalpel responded with, her horn lighting up. “You see, when we move objects with our magic it’s as if we’re sprouting a tendril from our horns – an extra limb, if you will – and forcibly using the tendrils to grab, lift, pull or push the objects.” She lifted her keycard slightly to demonstrate her point. “This is the most basic of magic and the only kind that is permitted here under Monobunny’s rules. However, opening a window from the outside does not fall into this category. Normally you would use a tendril to grab the handle but in this scenario the handle is obstructed by glass, by the window frame, by the walls. Of course, some unicorns would be capable of overcoming such obstacles but this would require a more advanced level of magic, a mastery of levitation that enables one to break through solid objects without disturbing them. Am I right in saying that, Monobunny?”

“Correct! As the rules state only basic levitation is allowed meaning no advanced breaching techniques, destructive or otherwise!”

“I see,” Dish Panner replied. “But what if the window was open and you tried closing it from the outside.”

“It would depend,” Scalpel said. “The swimming area windows, for example, have handles that need to be twisted from the inside to properly close them. You could try swinging the window shut and retracting or severing the tendril in the process, but the handles wouldn’t have been locked so the window could just be opened again from either side. I presume Sanscript, Mesmer and Elsie can attest to my words?”

The three other unicorns nodded in unison. 

“Just to add,” Mesmer said, “in order to effectively move an object with magic you need to be able to see where it is. It’s possible to move objects out of one’s field of view but the result is akin to moving around in the dark with no sense of touch to guide you, meaning it would be essentially impossible for any of us to move objects down the hotel corridors without keeping an eye on them the entire time. That goes for dead bodies as well in case anyone thinks to throw around such accusations.”

“Oh, really?” Inky said blankly. “Damn! That was gonna be my next guess!”

Dish Panner sighed loudly. “It feels like we’re going in circles. Is there not a chance Pinkie was alone all this time and keeping away from us? That way none of us saw her, then she snaps her own neck out of desperation?”

“I don’t think so,” Shetland said. “There are easier ways to commit suicide. Plus, Monobunny already confirmed the existence of a killer among us.”

“Actually,” Yoko began, “Dish Panner brought up something I’ve been thinking about. Pinkie was missing for the entire morning, right? So there’s two possibilities: either she was killed earlier on and then had her body hidden by the killer, or she was hiding somewhere we couldn’t find during the search and then pounced upon by someone and killed in an instant!”

“If the latter is correct,” Sanscript stated, “the killer would have to be either Button Mash or Maribelle!”

“Oh goodness!” Maribelle exclaimed, holding a hoof to her mouth in surprise. “Please, that’s not the case, I swear!”

“Ah! I mean no offence,” Sanscript continued. “I’m just throwing out a possibility. But I think you’re right; the way this case is coming together it feels much more likely that Pinkie was killed before being hidden. That way the killer could have some control over when and where the body would be discovered. At least, that’s my thinking.”

“But where?” Inky exclaimed, flopping to the floor in frustration. “We checked everywhere and didn’t find anything!”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Dopple said. “We just need to think exceptionally hard about where it could possibly have been.”

“Okay!” Yoko roared, stomping his hooves into a wide, fight-ready stance. “Let’s put our heads together and solve this thing!”


Truth Bullets



Pre-Meeting Swim



Inflatable Ring



Male Lockers



Inky’s Account



Ladder


Yoko: Pinkie was missing before we found her body, but she had to be somewhere, right?

Scalpel: We searched the hotel and grounds thoroughly, but we couldn’t have all been everywhere at any one time.

Shetland: There’s only one place we didn’t search until after her body was found. Maybe she really was hidden on the roof before the killer got back to her body. 

Inky: Maybe someone approached her with murderous intent so she ran and hid! Don’t forget she had the almighty Pinkie sense! She would’ve known for sure if someone was after her!

Button: Then maybe her death was a complete accident! 

Inky: Maybe Yoko started fooling around with her and got so excited in the heat of the moment he snapped her neck like a twig!

Yoko: Hey! I may be strong but I would never mishandle a lady!

Inky: Then in a state of panic he hid the body and ran for it! Did we search Pinkie for bodily fluids!?

Yoko: You have an overactive imagination!

Dish Panner: What if she was hidden in a locker? You have to admit they’re rather spacious. She would’ve just about fit if she crammed herself in.

Sanscript: But could she have done that? I don’t think you’d be able to open them from the inside.

Dopple: I would’ve noticed an open locker when I went swimming with Greyscale and Yoko.

Reph: The killer might have kidnapped her last night.

Elsie: What if Mesmer did that? Then he hypnotized her into hiding from us and killing herself while we weren’t watching!

Mesmer: Ridiculous! 

Maribelle: Maybe the killer was able to hide her in the extra room. No wonder we couldn’t find her!

A hiding place… Either one chosen by the killer or one chosen by Pinkie herself. Could there be some kind of clue? Something that would indicate where Pinkie was hidden? 
> Trial One - Part 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“I AGREE WITH THAT!”



Inflatable Ring <> she was hidden in a locker?



< Argument Break >


“I think Dish Panner is right. Pinkie was hidden in one of the lockers.”

“She was?” Dish Panner remarked. “I mean, I thought so, since they’re just about big enough.”

“Yeah!” Button butted in with. “I wanted to hide in one to get away from killers! I guess Pinkie thought of it before me.”

“But is that possible?” Sanscript asked. “Could she really lock herself away and then get out of there?”

“No,” I said, “that’s not what I’m getting at. I think she was moved into a locker after she was killed. More specifically, her own locker.”

“Oh?” Shetland perked up. “What makes you think that?”

“The inflatable ring,” I stated. “When we searched the female locker room it was found in Pinkie’s locker.”

“So?” Elsie hissed. “You think she took it in there to have some fun while in hiding?”

Inky’s eyes grew wide. “Wait, you can pleasure yourself with an inflatable ring!? Surely you’d need one of those long thin balloons and a tire pump to get anything good happening.”

The room fell deathly silent for a moment, a torrent of disgusted and judgmental glares baring down on Inky. Button’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed onto the floor. Even Monobunny looked shocked.

“What?” Inky said nonchalantly. “Don’t you mares say you’ve never done it.”

Maribelle uttered a quiet prayer under her breath and performed a ritualistic motion with her hooves. “May you be forgiven, my dear.”

“Anyway…” I continued, trying desperately not to picture Inky and her escapades with balloons. “What I mean is the inflatable ring wasn’t just deflated, it was torn apart. That’s not something I think Pinkie would have done, especially since it’s the one she picked out herself. I think it was the killer.”

“But why?” Dish Panner piped up. “What would they gain from such a thing? And what does it have to do with being hidden in a locker?”

I thought for a moment, choosing my words carefully. I felt like I was finally getting the hang of speaking to a large group. “Picture this: The killer goes with Pinkie to the swimming pool and kills her. Now they want somewhere to hide the body and the perfect place would be in a locker. Now, if they hid her in their own locker it would make everyone suspect them, so they decide by hiding the body in Pinkie’s locker using her keycard, they could evade suspicion and look for an opportune time to remove the body to pin it on someone else. Also, it means nobody could possibly find her as their keycards wouldn’t allow access.

“But there’s a catch. Pinkie took her inflatable ring to the swimming pool and now the killer needs to hide the evidence. They could try hiding it in the locker alongside Pinkie’s body since nobody would be able to access it, but with it inflated – which was likely the case as that’s how it was when the rest of us saw it last, and Pinkie would have no reason to bring a damaged inflatable to the pool – there’s not enough room in the locker for both Pinkie and the ring. So in desperation they tear open the ring so it deflates immediately and stuff it inside the locker alongside Pinkie.”

“Wow,” Copper remarked. “You’re pretty smart to think of that. Otherwise, why would there be a ripped bathing ring in her locker? And where else could she have been hidden? We already crossed off the roof as a hiding place since Scalpel shut the windows during the search. There’s one thing I don’t understand, though.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“I get that the killer might’ve tried to hide the ring so nobody saw it and got suspicious, or that they suddenly came across the ring in the locker and had to tear it open quickly so they could get Pinkie’s body inside, but why was Pinkie’s towel in a completely different place?”

“Well…” I tried coming up with a worthwhile response but I was drawing a complete blank. “I’m not sure yet. Maybe Pinkie put it there before the murder happened or maybe the killer put it there for some other reason.”

Copper sighed. “It’s okay, don’t worry. Just the way you were talking made it seem like you were going to crack the whole case wide open. But still, deducing that Pinkie was being hidden in her own locker is a big deal, so I guess we–”

“That’s where I draw the line!” Yoko bellowed, taking everyone by surprise. “Greyscale, I’m sorry to do this to ya buddy, but I have to step in before we start going down the wrong track.”

I was at a loss for words. “Um, what is it?”

“I’m challenging your theory,” the stallion replied. There was no hint of his usual friendly or boisterous nature; he was entirely serious. “You’ve been doing some fine work figuring this stuff out but you’re in over your head if you think we should accept what you’re saying.”

I was at a loss for words. Coming from Yoko, someone who had been so nice to me, his words stabbed at my heart. “Y-you’re saying I’m wrong?”

“It happens,” Yoko said with a shrug. “We all make mistakes and there’s no harm in owning up to them, especially if we want to survive this trial. What I’m saying is, you’re wrong about Pinkie being kept inside her locker. It’s obvious that didn’t happen. We have to think of something else. Anyone?”

Yoko’s gaze shifted from me completely as he tried conferring with the other participants. I felt something rise up within me like magma bursting from a volcano. For all my years of backing down and never speaking up, in that split second I felt a barrier in my soul come crumbling down. I looked Yoko dead in the eye. “Explain,” I ordered, my teeth clenched. “You can’t just dismiss my theory at the drop of a hat. Where’s your argument?”

“Oh, brother,” Yoko said, rolling his eyes. “Alright, I’ll explain it to you. And no hard feelings, okay? You’re still my little buddy, alright?”

His condescending tone only made me angrier. I was shocked at myself for feeling such strong emotions. Is it merely because he doubts me? I wondered. I’m not exactly a top detective. Should I really be so self-assured? Why am I taking this so personally? Even when analyzing my response logically I still couldn’t break free of my base instinct to strike back. 

“Is this what I think it is!?” Monobunny cried, leaping joyfully into the air. “It is! A battle between two participants! The crossing of mental swords! Sumo Wrestler versus complete Nobody! Who will win this struggle of wits!?”


Greyscale vs Yoko Zuna



Truth Blades



Monobunny File #1



Pinkie’s Keycard



Male Lockers



State of The Body



Machine Gun Cameras



 


Yoko: You said the killer must have hidden her body in her locker, but when you think about it they could’ve only used their own locker. 


Greyscale: But if they did that they’d just be putting suspicion on themselves!


Yoko: We’re here to find the truth and the truth is, sometimes killers do stupid things.


Greyscale: Then why was Pinkie’s inflatable ring torn open?


Yoko: Who knows? Maybe it happened by accident while Pinkie was being attacked and her locker just happened to be open so the killer tucked it away in there.


Greyscale: Even in that case they could’ve put her body in along with it.


Yoko: But then how could they have gotten her out without breaking the locker door? The only way inside is with the right keycard which is trapped in place around Pinkie’s neck!


Greyscale: But there could still be a way…


Yoko: Really? Well you’d better tell everyone or your argument has no footing. And a strong footing is of the utmost importance, just like in sumo!

There has to be a flaw in Yoko’s reasoning. I know I’m not wrong! I just need to make everyone believe!
> Trial One - Part 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“ALLOW ME TO CUT THROUGH THOSE WORDS!”



Pinkie’s Keycard <> trapped in place



< Argument Break >



 


“Sorry to burst your bubble, Yoko, but you seem to have missed a very important detail.”

“Oh yeah?” Yoko asked. “What’s that?”

“Dopple discovered it earlier when we needed to inspect Pinkie’s locker. She pulled on the keycard around Pinkie’s neck and the cord snapped.”

“It did?” Yoko turned to Dopple, fear splashed across his face. “You’re strong enough to snap the rope just by pulling it!? I told you she was scary!”

“That’s not it,” I continued. “I was with Dopple at the time. She may have pulled it with a little force but it broke free way too easily. Not only that but the break was clean, as if it had been neatly cut with a knife. Also, there was a small amount of residue on each end of the cord. It can only mean one thing: the killer cut Pinkie’s keycard free from her neck and used it to open her locker. Then they used the keycard again to remove her body and glued the two ends together around Pinkie’s neck so we wouldn’t suspect that anything of the sort had happened. Unfortunately for them, they didn’t do a good enough job. I think they tried to apply as little glue as possible so as not to tip us off but inadvertently made the bond weak under pressure.”

“Wow,” Yoko replied, his eyes wide. “I had no idea that had happened.” He exhaled sadly then chuckled. “You’re a pretty smart cookie, you know?”

“Indeed!” Maribelle said cheerfully, clapping her hooves together. “We are truly blessed by your presence!”

“Way to go!” Inky cried, leaping into the air and extending a hoof. 

“I must admit,” Scalpel said, “you’ve given us some very important information. Now we may be closer to solving this mystery.”

“I’m also impressed,” Shetland added, grinning proudly. 

“I don’t know,” I said, blushing. “I was just lucky enough to–”

“Greyscale?”

I looked up and saw Mesmer eyeing me unscrupulously, his jaw clenched. “Yes?”

“You claim glue was used to put the cord back together?”

I blinked. “Well, yeah.”

“And it couldn’t have been anything else?” Mesmer continued to stare me down.

“Of course not. Dopple saw it too; it couldn’t have been tape, velcro or putty or it would’ve been much more obvious. From the way the residue looked it had to be some kind of glue, probably superglue.”

Mesmer continued to study me in silence, meeting my gaze unflinchingly. “Okay,” he finally said, emitting a quiet snort. “You think the killer used glue? We’ll see whether that theory holds up to scrutiny soon enough. But fine, let’s accept that the killer was able to remove Pinkie’s keycard and tried to cover up that fact.”

I couldn’t figure out if Mesmer agreed with me or not. His words didn’t seem to make much sense. “The keycard wasn’t loose,” I stated. “When Dr. Scalpel moved the body–”

“The keycard was swinging as it hung from Pinkie’s neck,” Mesmer finished promptly. “Yes, I know. I witnessed it.”

I felt a surge of anger build up within me. “Are you saying Dr. Scalpel held the keycard with her telekinesis? That the keycard was always loose?”

“Absolutely not,” Mesmer replied stoically. “If that were the case it would have been spotted much earlier when the Doctor and Maribelle performed an autopsy. Plus, did you forget that Dopple had to apply some force to beak it free? Or that there was residue on the rope?”

I was utterly seething, but I didn’t have the words or wherewithal to strike back. It was as if he was testing me, dismissing my breakthroughs as pathetic drivel to make himself look smart. So why would he bring it up? I wondered. What other way could this possibly have happened!? 

“Moving on,” Dopple said, throwing me a worried look, “we can at least acknowledge that the killer would’ve been able to gain access to Pinkie’s locker and store her body there.”

Elsie groaned loudly. “And still we haven’t been able to whittle down the suspects!”

“I’m sure we can,” Shetland said, stroking his chin. “We just need to put all of our clues together.”

“I’m so confused,” Reph said painedly. “I keep trying to put the puzzle pieces together but I end up with nothing!”

“I know what you mean,” Copper said uneasily, “but we should take it just a few steps at a time. Let’s look at who was capable of pulling off this murder given what we know.”

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. Mesmer’s attitude had left me rattled but there were more important things at stake. Making a concerted effort not to look in his direction I clenched my jaw, awaiting the next debate. I was now more determined than ever to find Pinkie’s killer.


Truth Bullets



Pinkie’s Room



Male Lockers



Machine Gun Cameras



Monobunny File #1



Pinkie’s Towel


Copper: From the looks of things, the killer hid Pinkie’s body inside her locker.

Reph: S-so was she killed before the search or while the search was ongoing?

Scalpel: Couldn’t it have been either?

Sanscript: Wouldn’t it make more sense if she was killed before the search? If it occurred in the middle of it the killer wouldn’t have been able to formulate a plan.

Dopple: Add to the fact that anyone might have been physically capable of the murder.

Inky: Except for Button, ‘cause he has weak little legs!

Button: Hey! I’m no weakling! I could break someone’s neck if I wanted to!

Maribelle: You shouldn’t say such things or you might incriminate yourself.

Dish Panner: Are we sure we couldn’t narrow down the suspects in another way? From my perspective with the trial going the way it is, it must have been a unicorn. 

Shetland: I guess they would have it easier in terms of telekinesis, but is there anything else that would point to the use of magic?

Yoko: What about the swing doors into each locker room? There’s huge gaps above and below the doors so you wouldn’t need to breach, or whatever it was you called it. They could float anything in there no problem.

Copper: Monobunny did point out that levitating a living body is against the rules but a lifting a dead body isn’t.

Elsie: How rude! You’re all jumping to erroneous conclusions! You wouldn’t need magic to do such a thing, anyone could have waltzed in and hid Pinkie’s body!

Mesmer: An interesting thought…

Inky: But then, we’ve gotten nowhere! How can I avenge Pinkie like this!?

Something questionable was said here. If I point it out, maybe it can lead us to the truth.
> Trial One - Part 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“NO, THAT’S WRONG!”



Machine Gun Cameras <> anyone could have waltzed in



< Argument Break >


“You’re wrong about something, Elsie.”

The unicorn mare shuddered at my words. “And what might that be!?”

“You claim anyone could’ve just walked into the locker room and hid Pinkie’s body, but there’s something you’ve forgotten – the machine gun cameras outside both entrances to each locker room. If a stallion – as you put it – waltzed in, he would’ve been shot.”

“I knew that!” Elsie shot back. “I just forgot for a moment, that’s all!”

“Just a question,” Scalpel said, raising her hoof. “Are we sure the machine gun cameras functioned properly?”

“If they were faulty I wouldn’t have included them in the game!” Monobunny chimed in. “Anyone spotted with the machine gun camera trying to enter the incorrect locker room would be torn to shreds!”

“Even if they were faulty,” Dish Panner began, “would anyone have tried risking it in the first place? The cameras are pointed directly at each doorway. It would be obvious to anyone watching if a stallion was trying to get in.”

“Not to mention,” I continued, “Dopple and I ran a few tests and we were unable to shift the cameras out of place. Plus, the tripods are completely immovable.”

Dopple nodded. “The only way you could feasibly move the cameras would’ve required force enough to break them, and that would’ve also been against the rules. Also, there were no signs that any of the guns had been fired.”

Shetland sighed dishearteningly, his eyebrows forced into a fierce frown. “So it had to have been a mare. That gets us somewhere, at least.”

“Can we be sure?” Copper asked hesitantly. “I don’t like where this is heading.”

“Indeed!” Sanscript piped up. “But we must continue if we wish to survive!”

Everyone else’s voices drifted into nothingness as I clenched my eyes shut and took a deep breath, trying desperately to concentrate. What should’ve been an easy mystery to solve had become a nightmare. I relayed every piece of information, every fact that we’d narrowed down and tried envisioning the murder being committed by a number of potential killers. I reminded myself of the nature of the search and times when each participant could or couldn’t have performed actions necessary for the murder. There were moments that I considered over and over again to glean some kind of hidden meaning, some unseen truth that I simply had to extrapolate from the case so far. But each time I ran through a possible scenario I hit a roadblock. There were inconsistencies and irrationalities that I couldn’t simply brush off. I was running out of hope. It seemed all my efforts were in vain and I should just leave the case to someone more intelligent and trustworthy. I couldn’t figure–

My eyes sprang open as a sudden realization hit me. I reconsidered each facet of my theory again and again, the puzzle pieces falling neatly into place and forming a coherent picture. I looked up and saw Mesmer observing me pensively. As our eyes locked, I could feel his message being sent to me, not of encouragement but of arrogant goading. “You think you’ve solved it?” I imagined him saying in his grim, sarcastic tone. “Well then, let’s see what you’ve got, genius.” My heart thumped violently as I realized what needed to be done. I had to rise up to Mesmer’s challenge!

“I know who killed her,” I said quietly. There was still some light chatter between others as they continued discussing how the killer could have gotten to Pinkie in the morning.

“Greyscale,” I heard Dopple say softly, her jaw hung open slightly. Her eyes bore an air of worry. “Are you sure?”

I nodded slowly. I was confident now, the answer to our troubles was right in front of me. No, it had been in front of me the whole time! “I know who killed her!” I repeated, casting silence throughout the room. 

“Wait, you do?” Inky replied nervously. 

“This should be good,” Mesmer said sardonically. “I guess we’ll finally see what you’re capable of.”

I shrugged off Mesmer’s comment and focused on my task. It was time for me to reveal the murderer once and for all!


Who killed Pinkie Pie?



Doctor Lancet Scalpel



Yoko Zuna



Pinkie Pie [DECEASED]



Sanscript



Dish Panner



Shetland Yard



Button Mash



Dopple Ganger



Ink Slinger



Copper Fields



Mesmer



Antonio Rephael



Elsie De Pone



Maribelle Cheval-Gelding



Greyscale

> Trial One - Part 9
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE!”



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“Shetland. It was you, wasn’t it?”

“What!?” Shetland yelled in surprise, reeling back. “You’re accusing me!? Where has this come from!? You’re mad!”

“He’s right!” Elsie shrilled. “We’ve literally just figured out that a stallion couldn’t be the culprit and you think it’s Shetland?”

“Greyscale,” Maribelle said softly, “if I may, your accusation doesn’t make any sense. Shetland couldn’t have done it. Also, he was protecting us the whole time. He organized the search so we could find Inky and Pinkie.”

“Yeah!” Yoko cried. “He’s a cantankerous old windbag, but I really don’t think he’d kill anyone! He’s the Ultimate Police Officer, someone who fights for justice, right?”

I shook my head. “Even so, he’s still the culprit. I’m right, aren’t I Mesmer?”

The maroon-coated unicorn stood expressionlessly, calmly surveying the scene as everyone grew frantic at my proclamation. “You could be right or you could be wrong,” he said with a shrug. “I’m just waiting to hear your explanation.”

“Mesmer!” Shetland roared, his nostrils flared and his cheeks flushed. “You should be sorting this fool out and proving my innocence instead of letting this charade go on any longer!”

“I don’t have to do that,” Mesmer replied coolly. “He’s made an accusation so he must follow it through. If he’s convinced he has it all figured out, that is.”

My chest tightened. “What have you got against me?” I seethed. “What are you testing me for!?”

“Oh?” Mesmer raised an eyebrow. “That’s a good question. What I’m doing is cutting through your poorly placed confidence. You’ve been solving simple quandaries – most of which I’m sure have been figured out by others here – and getting all too pleased with yourself, as if you’re a star detective. Then as soon as someone strikes up a challenge to your word your blood boils over and you double down. I can read it all over your face.

“You’re lucky that so far it’s been plain sailing for you. I’m not sure why a certain someone here is encouraging you; perhaps they know something I don’t. Either way, your mannerisms irritate me. You think you have it all figured out and are all too proud to show your apparent worth. I think you’re in over your head.”

My eyes were clenched shut. I could barely stand to look at Mesmer as he continued his tirade against me. It took all of my willpower not to bite back in a fury. “You can think what you like,” I finally said. “But what I don’t understand is your attitude.”

“I’m teaching you a lesson. You’re too emotional, overconfident, your ego swells as you put even the most basic of puzzle pieces together, and you put up furious defenses at the slightest sign of disagreement. Not the best traits for a detective. Quite the change from the quiet, reserved stallion of last night, aren’t you? This situation has put you in a frenzy that I think you should break out of. Not to mention, I’m showing the rest of the group that they can’t put their trust in your logic just because you’ve spoken up successfully so far during this trial. If they became swayed by your confidence at the wrong time it could be the end of us all.

“Far from what you might believe I do not dislike you – frankly, I would do well to learn a great deal more about you – but I do believe it is necessary for me to challenge you here. If you prove me wrong then so be it. You will earn my respect and I will admit that my judgement of you was incorrect. Quite honestly, I would find it refreshing for that to happen.”

“Fine!” I spat back, trying to ignore his scathing insults. “But after I solve this case, I want you to apologize!” I stomped my hoof angrily against the stage. “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, Shetland is the killer. He’s the onl–”


“NO, THAT’S WRONG!”


My heart caught in my throat. The one who called out against me was someone I least expected. “Doctor, why are you–”

“I didn’t want it to get like this,” Scalpel interrupted with, her usual caring expression pulled into a terrifying frown, “but your accusation is ridiculous. Shetland, the Ultimate Police Officer, simply couldn’t have killed Pinkie Pie!”

“Doctor…” Shetland quivered, staring in complete shock. He turned back to me with an arrogant stare. “At least there’s someone here who’s willing to believe in me.”

I couldn’t even say a word. My heart and mind were in overdrive trying to make sense of this bizarre, unfamiliar situation. 

“Well then,” Scalpel continued, her words like ice. “Shall we? Convince me that Shetland is the killer! I’d like to see you try!”

I froze in place, the hairs on my back prickling up. I could feel an immense pressure weighing down me, almost enough to crush my spirit. But I can’t back down, I said inwardly, overwhelmed by the stares of the others. I know I’m right! I have to show them! I have to prove to Mesmer and the others what I’m capable of! I’ll show them all!


Greyscale vs Dr. Lancet Scalpel



Truth Blades



Inky’s Account



Pre-Meeting Swim



Greyscale’s Account



Monobunny File #1



Swimming Area Windows


Scalpel: You’re sure that Shetland is the killer, and you proclaim so without evidence!


Greyscale: I do have evidence. In fact, he’s the only one who could’ve been capable!


Scalpel: So when did he kill her?


Greyscale: It had to have been before the search took place.


Scalpel: And yet there are no signs that he did so before the search, so how can you make that claim?


Greyscale: It’s the only way! Otherwise he couldn’t have set the whole thing up!


Scalpel: Throughout the entire search he did nothing but search valiantly for Pinkie.


Greyscale: That’s just how he made it look!


Scalpel: Really? Because I fail to see when he would’ve had the chance. From the morning meeting until Pinkie’s body was found, I was with him the entire time! Monobunny confirmed himself that there were no accomplices involved in this case, so we know I wouldn’t be lying to protect him.


Greyscale: I didn’t say that.


Scalpel: Then what are you saying? We know Shetland couldn’t have flown in through the windows to move the body while we weren’t aware.


Greyscale: …


Scalpel: I’m waiting to hear your explanation, Greyscale. You should be ready to back up your accusation.

Damn it, Scalpel. Why are you being so defensive when it comes to Shetland? I’m all shook up but I need to give my answer, fast, or I’ll be made a fool of! 
> Trial One - Part 10
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“ALLOW ME TO CUT THROUGH THOSE WORDS!”



Greyscale’s Account <> I was with him the entire time!



< Argument Break >



 


“I know full well you couldn’t have been with Shetland the entire time, as you say,” I put forward, my breathing wavered. 

Scalpel remained resolute. “If you’re referencing Shetland breaking into Pinkie’s room, I fail to see how that has anything to do with the murder.”

“No, not that time,” I said. “There was a certain moment when Shetland was exactly where he needed to be, right where Pinkie’s body was held, and that was just after you both searched the swimming area.”

Scalpel flinched. “Well, yes, but–” 

“Copper and I were overseeing the second floor stairwells from the landing next to the third floor. You exited the female locker room before Shetland did, as Copper can attest.”

“Yes,” Copper agreed. “It was only around fifteen seconds or so, I would guess, but there was definitely a short period of time where Dr. Scalpel had left the swimming area completely and Shetland was nowhere to be seen.”

“B-but of course!” Scalpel snapped back. “If you think of the layout of the swimming area, the female locker room is a shorter distance from the storage room in the corner. After we searched it and found Pinkie’s towel we decided to walk back out again and report our findings. When you consider that, it makes perfect sense that Shetland would take slightly longer to come back outside – he had a longer distance to walk!”

“But he didn’t have to walk, did he?” I pointed a hoof at Shetland, whose face bore a ferocious scowl. “Shetland is a pegasus. And more so than that, he’s a very fit, athletic pegasus. Crossing that kind of distance in a second or two would be easy.”

Scalpel’s gaze dropped to the floor, her eyes darting about as she tried to make sense of the revelation. “But could he really have done it?”

“Of course not!” Shetland boomed. “Greyscale has gone mad!”

“But you were there!” Inky cried, baring her teeth like an animal. “You and Scalpel were the last ones to search the swimming pool before Pinkie’s body was found, and if Scalpel didn’t do it, it must have been you!”

“You monster!” Button screamed. “We all trusted you!”

“Let’s not forget,” I added, “that Shetland would’ve been more than capable of cornering Pinkie and breaking her neck with his bare hooves. He must’ve done that in the morning before the meeting took place.”

“Now wait,” Elsie said, shaking her head erratically. “We’re jumping to conclusions. I admit that if what we’ve been told so far is true Shetland might be physically capable of the murder and may have had the time to remove Pinkie’s body from her locker, but could he really have gained access in the first place?”

“Exactly!” Shetland asserted. “Even a monkey could figure that out!  How could I have gotten to Pinkie’s locker if the machine gun cameras were there to stop me!?”

“He’s right,” Dish Panner said nervously. “If he were a unicorn he could’ve used magic to move Pinkie’s body, but without it he’d be shot down.”

Reph nodded. “A-and we can rule out the possibility of him getting help since we know no accomplice was involved. I j-just don’t see how he could’ve done it.”

“So Greyscale is…” Button trailed off, flashing me a curious look. “He’s taking us down the wrong path, just like Mesmer said he would.”

“Wait a minute,” Dopple said, stepping in before I could lose my temper. “Consider for a moment that a stallion could bypass the camera. Let’s discuss the possibilities and any ideas you might have. We can’t rule it out just yet.” Dopple smiled at me. In an instant I felt much of my tension dissipate. “Keep calm, Greyscale. I for one do not share Mesmer’s approach. If anything, I think he has more to prove to me than you do to him.” 

I expected Mesmer to be fervently dismissive of Dopple’s statement but he remained reserved. “Most intriguing,” he said tonelessly. Whatever was going on between these two it was completely going over my head. A thought occurred to me that this was their way of flirting with each other and I couldn’t help but wince with envy. Why would you want someone like him? I felt like saying. All he’s done is be an abrasive asshole!

“Well then,” Copper said, addressing the entire group. “Let’s take Dopple’s advice and discuss whether or not Shetland could have used Pinkie’s locker.”

“Okay,” Maribelle replied, nodding. “I still think he’s innocent, but it wouldn’t hurt to address the possibility.”

“Feh!” Shetland snorted. “This is all a waste of time!”

Scalpel looked forlornly into space and sighed. “I don’t want to, but we should do so just to be sure. We need to find the truth, after all.”

The stage began to spin once more, signifying the next crucial debate.


Truth Bullets



Ladder



Inky’s Account



Swimming Area Windows



Inflatable Ring



Machine Gun Cameras



 


Dopple: If any of the machine gun cameras spot someone entering the locker room of the opposite sex it causes the gun to fire at the intruder. 

Dish Panner: So how could a stallion have entered the female locker room? 

Copper: The cameras face every possible entrance to the locker rooms, so there’s no way to sneak inside. 

Elsie: A unicorn might be able to hide something in there using levitation but a pegasus would be incapable!

Button: What if he was able to hack the cameras?

Inky: You mean hack at it with a towel? Use it like a whip? A-cha-cha-cha!

Button: No! I mean hack into it with secret spy gadgets and stuff!

Yoko: Was there anything even like that at the MonoMart?

Sanscript: Even if there was, wouldn’t that count as damaging the equipment?

Scalpel: The machine guns are supposed to be too fast to be avoided.

Reph: Maybe there’s a way to move faster than normal? 

Shetland: This conversation is pointless! 

Mesmer: The cameras are pointed directly at the doors. 

Shetland: Exactly! There’s no way to avoid being seen!

Inky: Couldn’t they have disguised themselves as someone else to trick the cameras?

Copper: I don’t know if that would work…

Yoko: If only there was a way to move the cameras.

Elsie: As I thought, it’s impossible.

No, it’s not impossible. The clue lies in the specific rules that were stated. Once I point that out, Shetland will have nowhere to run!
> Trial One - Part 11
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“NO, THAT’S WRONG!”



With a towel? <> no way to avoid being seen!



< Argument Break >



 


“The answer is simple,” I declared. “Shetland used a towel.”

“A towel?” Elsie balked. “Are you trying to insult us!?”

“Not at all,” I replied. “We need to remember the specific rules set out by Monobunny concerning the machine gun cameras. All four of them are independent from each other. For example, the machine gun camera pointed at the male locker room won’t react if a stallion tries entering the female locker room and vice versa. So in order to bypass this you only need to prevent yourself from being seen by that one camera that blocks your path. While the doors leading from the corridor into the locker rooms require a relevant keycard to gain access the doors in the swimming area itself are styled like the entrance to a saloon, meaning anyone can physically enter. 

“The next step is deducing a method of evading the camera itself. What’s important to remember is the stipulation. If the cameras should see you trying to enter a restricted area the machine gun will cut you down. Monobunny said this explicitly.”




“And as an added security precaution, if the camera should ever see anyone trying to get into the incorrect locker room, this machine gun will mow then down, no compromises!”



 


“And so,” I continued, “provided someone is not seen by a particular machine gun camera, they won’t be shot. The cameras can’t be maneuvered or switched off, so the only way to get past them is to obstruct the camera’s view.”

“Which means…” Scalpel pondered on my statement, deep in thought. “If you put a towel over the top of the camera lens–”

“–it wouldn’t be able to see you,” I finished. “That’s how Shetland was able to get into the female locker room.”

“Utter nonsense!” Shetland bellowed. “You really think I would risk something like that!?”

“Yes,” I said matter-of-factly. “Or maybe it isn’t really a risk if you’re taking Monobunny’s words at face value. He’s repeated over and over again that he strives to be honest, and so if we’re to accept that, the machine guns would never activate if the camera was obstructed, even if he knew full well that you were in a restricted area. None of the other cameras in the area are privy to this rule, only the ones aimed at specific entrances. Plus, unlike most of the cameras in the dome, those cameras sit atop tripods, making it easy to cover the lenses without the need to fix the obstruction in place to stop it from falling.”

“Wait a second,” Dish Panner piped up. “If Shetland pulled this off, wouldn’t he have needed to access Pinkie’s locker twice this morning? Once just after he killed her and then once again just after Scalpel left the locker room. He’d need a towel in both instances, wouldn’t he?”

“Pinkie’s towel!” Sanscript cried in shock. “Shetland and the Doctor found it hidden during the search, so he would’ve had one in that very moment! Doctor, did Shetland keep hold of Pinkie’s towel when you left?”

Scalpel was shaking nervously, looking as if she could vomit at any moment. Her eyes were glazed over and she refused to look anywhere but the floor in front of her. “Y-yes. I found it, but, he took it.”

“Doctor!” Shetland called hysterically. “Please, you know I wouldn’t do this!”

“That’s it then!” Sanscript affirmed. “After killing Pinkie he took her towel and hid it away in the storage room, then set up the search so that he could go back there. He pretended it was a vital clue pointing to her whereabouts but really it was left there so he could get to her locker and bring the body out into the open!”

“Hang on a second,” Elsie said. “If that’s the case then surely Shetland would’ve needed a towel this morning, before the meeting, if we’re to assume that he killed Pinkie before the search.”

“Not only that,” I said, “he would’ve needed one before the swimming session between myself, Dopple and Yoko.”

“But that’s strange,” Dish Panner said. “I understand he could’ve used Pinkie’s towel after taking it from the storage room, but if he needed it this morning, how did he get into the locker room in the first place?”

“What do you mean?” I asked. 

“Think about it,” Dish Panner continued. “The fact that the inflatable ring was there shows that Pinkie went to the swimming area by choice. She wasn’t dragged against her will to the third floor. Could Shetland really have followed her all the way there without being noticed and killed her just before she went into the locker room?”

I furrowed my brow. “Why would he need to get to her before she reached the locker room? Couldn’t he have just entered through the male entrance and then attacked her on the other side?”

Dish Panner shook her head. “No, that wouldn’t make sense. Why would Pinkie take her towel with her into the swimming area? Surely she’d keep it in her locker for after the swim. If that’s the case, how would Shetland have even covered up the camera in the first place?”

“Maybe we’re overthinking things,” Copper piped up. “Couldn’t Shetland have just taken his own towel with him?”

“That would work!” I blurted out. “So then, he kept hold of a towel while he was following her? I suppose it wouldn’t have been suspicious to keep a towel if you were going that way.”

Copper shrugged. “What’s to say they didn’t meet up to go swimming together? That way it makes sense how it could’ve all happened before you three went swimming. Why would someone go skulking around with a towel just hoping for someone to go swimming so they could pull off a murder? If Shetland’s the killer, surely he could’ve just agreed to go swimming with her and then attacked while her guard was down.”

I couldn’t help but cringe. It was all so obvious, and I’d not even considered it. “Yeah,” I said, avoiding eye contact with Mesmer. I was sure he was enjoying my minor screw-ups. “That must be it.”

“No way!” Inky cried. “Don’t forget about her Pinkie sense! She would’ve known if someone was planning to murder her. She can tell if someone is lying and can sense other’s intentions! The killer must have snuck up on her!”

“Miss Slinger, please,” Sanscript said disdainfully. “We can’t take such outlandish claims at face value. Pinkie didn’t have special powers; she just claimed she did.”

“But she wouldn’t have lied about that!” Inky shot back.

“Then chances are,” Sanscript said, “she truly believed she had this ‘Pinkie sense’ but was merely deluded.”

Inky folded her hooves together and turned her nose up. “Nope. I’m still willing to believe.”

While I wasn’t entirely convinced by the existence of Pinkie sense, it did seem odd that Pinkie Pie – someone who had proven to be exceptionally good at reading others and so confident in her abilities – would decide to go swimming with someone else and not consider the prospect of being murdered. Something felt off. I kept this thought to myself, however, for fear of derailing the trial. 

“I’m a… little confused about something,” Reph said. “Greyscale, you said Pinkie’s keycard was glued back together and then put back around her neck, b-but that had to have happened just after Dr. Scalpel left the locker room.”

“Yes,” I replied.

“That’s what I don’t get. That means as he was walking into the swimming area he would’ve needed some glue and Pinkie’s cut keycard. But how can that be? We were all together when the search began and you, Copper and Dr. Scalpel were with him heading up to the third floor. Surely someone would’ve noticed him grab something like that on the way.”

“That’s easy,” Button piped up. “He could’ve just left that stuff in the locker room!”

Yoko shook his head. “No, that’s not right. All the locker doors had been removed, remember? Me and Greyscale passed through there twice and would’ve seen if something like that was stashed there.”

“Exactly!” Shetland roared. “This whole theory is insane!”

“No,” I said forcefully. “There’s definitely something you could’ve done.” 

“Well!?” Shetland shot back. “What is it!?”

I closed my eyes and thought for a moment. I’d figured this part out already. The answer was on the tip of my tongue.

 


How did Shetland sneak items into the swimming area?



P E C K I S H  T R O T

> Trial One - Part 12
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


P E C K I S H  T R O T



˅



˅



˅



S H I R T  P O C K E T



 



“IT CONNECTS!”



 


“You’ve had a very reliable hiding place on you this entire time,” I declared, pointing a hoof at Shetland. “Your shirt pocket. You could’ve easily fit a keycard, the cord, and a tube of superglue in there and nobody would’ve been any the wiser. It’s not like someone would have thought it odd that your pocket wasn’t empty, either, since you keep that officer’s badge with you at all times. A slight change in the size of the pocket’s bulge would’ve gone unnoticed.”

Shetland’s jaw hung open, his words catching in his throat. He snapped his mouth shut and sighed disgruntledly. “I suppose I can’t argue that it’s possible.”

“Then it’s settled,” I said gladly. “Just after Dr. Scalpel left the locker room Shetland sprang into action, putting Pinkie’s towel over the camera and leaping inside the locker room. Then he used Pinkie’s keycard to open her locker, remove her body, then flew to the diving board, stuck the cord back together using a tube of glue in his shirt pocket and flew back out through the male locker room with the towel, leaving the rest of us none the wiser!” I puffed my chest out proudly, my killing blow dealt. “And that’s how Pinkie’s body turned up out of nowhere!”

“I was right,” Mesmer said, sighing dramatically. “You really thought you had it solved. It’s a pity you’ve neither the knowledge nor the intelligence to realize this case is far from over. Not to mention, your logic is flawed.”

I felt a deep sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. “What have I got wrong?” I asked, my voice wavering.

“You claimed Shetland used glue. I can see why as a tube of superglue would be easy to conceal in his shirt pocket, but you haven’t thought everything through. Doctor? If I may, though I already asked you this question during the investigation, could you please tell us the precise events that occurred when you and Shetland exited the swimming area.”

Scalpel nodded. “We had just walked back from the storage room and walked up to the doorway of the female locker room. Shetland and I were talking about Pinkie’s towel and discussing what it could mean. It was then that he spoke about his worry, of his will to protect everyone. That’s when he took his badge out from his pocket.”

My heart leapt into my throat. I simply stared in awe as Scalpel told the rest of her story. 

“He said something about it being a symbol of justice, I don’t really remember. But what I do know is that he definitely had nothing else in his pocket. Then I stepped through into the locker room while Shetland walked towards his own. And as Copper said, it was around fifteen seconds or so before he appeared in the hallway again.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Mesmer said. “That was most enlightening. Don’t you think so, Greyscale?”

My legs were trembling. All I could do was concentrate on breathing regularly, which I failed miserably. I could see my entire theory slipping away before me. But how? I said inwardly. It makes so much sense! Nobody else could be the killer!

“It’s interesting to note,” Mesmer continued, “that even without the knowledge of Shetland emptying his pocket it wouldn’t make sense to assume he used glue. Let’s take the estimate of fifteen seconds, shall we? I can believe that Shetland could cover distances from the diving board to the locker room and back in a few seconds. I can believe that he is deft enough to open Pinkie’s locker in a couple of seconds and even fly while carrying her body at great speed. If we were to map out the events and Shetland merely had to fly from the male locker room to the female one, covering the camera as he did so, swoop in and collect Pinkie, drop her onto the diving board, collect the towel and fly out again through the male locker room, it seems feasible given his extreme level of fitness. The part that doesn’t make sense is how he could’ve used the glue.

“If he were a unicorn this would be much easier, but a pegasus can only be so dexterous using hooves to manipulate small objects, especially a small tube of glue. He would have had to collect Pinkie’s body, take it to the diving board, carefully take the tube of glue, finely dab a small amount on one end of the cord, put it around Pinkie’s neck, re-conceal the tube, ensure the pieces of cord are pressed together, and only then could he make his escape. I dare say even the most skilled pegasus would have immense trouble doing that with their hooves or even their mouth and achieving it all within a few seconds. And so, I ask you, Greyscale, since you’ve been so sure of yourself, how did he do it?”

In that moment I wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Even as I came to the conclusion that Shetland was the killer I had never considered his methods with such a level of scrutiny. Mesmer was right. There has to be an answer! Think! Think!

“Um,” Reph raised a hoof tentatively. “I m-might have an idea. Couldn’t Shetland have applied the glue to the keycard before entering the swimming area? That way he’d only need to collect the keycard and wouldn’t need to spend time applying it. That would explain why he didn’t have it in his pocket – it had been left in the male l-locker room.”

“I don’t know,” Elsie said. “I have a good amount of DIY experience in my career as an interior designer, and basically any kind of glue you might find in a tube small enough to fit in Shetland’s pocket is going to be superglue, or a very close approximation. That kind of substance hardens exceptionally quickly – you wouldn’t want it out in the air for very long or it wouldn’t stick at all, especially in small quantities. Doctor, how long did the two of you spend searching the area?”

“Around five minutes or so, maybe a little longer,” Scalpel replied. “We were very thorough, and once we’d found the towel we spent several minutes rechecking the storage room to see if there was anything else.”

“I don’t think it could work then,” Elsie said. “If the amount of substance on the cord was barely noticeable it simply couldn’t have sustained itself. If it was a large blob, maybe it would be possible since it would take longer for the layers to harden, but in this case it would be too much for what was described of the rope.” She groaned annoyedly. “And to think, I believed we were close to solving this case! I’m holding you accountable for this, Greyscale!”

I wanted to scream. I wanted to pound away at the floor until my hooves were raw. But in the end I could only stand there, stock still, feeling my disappointment wash over me.

“Sorry, Greyscale,” Sanscript said. “I too must agree with Elsie. It simply doesn’t add up. I was able to have a good look at Pinkie’s keycard just before we came to the trial and can confirm that sticky tape and putty are out of the question too. If glue was used, it had to have been applied at a different time. We all make mistakes; it can’t be helped.”

“I’m sorry too,” Mesmer said. “It could be construed that I’ve been wasting everyone’s time, but really I just wanted Greyscale to understand the position that he’s in. So long as he accepts it, I am willing to be more than cordial. As far as Pinkie’s keycard is concerned the answer–”

“Stop!” I commanded, pounding a hoof against the floor. “Just give me a second to think!”

“Greyscale,” Dopple said softly. “Please don’t take it personally. We all need to work together to survive. Your pride is not worth this.”

Pride? I considered. Is that what this is? Is this what happens when I finally find something I might excel at, finally find something that makes me worthy, something that means I’m not just a nobody!?

“Still fighting the inevitable?” Mesmer scoffed. “I’ll give you fifteen seconds to figure it out, the same amount of time Shetland would have had. Starting now.”

I started to panic. I didn’t want to lose when I was so close to victory, not like this. The seconds ticked away. Think! Think! Thi–

Then the answer hit me. The method that Shetland used, how he was able to glue the cord back together. No, not glue, I reminded myself. Something similar, but not glue, not putty, not tape, not velcro, not with a glue dot, and definitely not by tying the cord in knots. Amidst the chaos in my head an answer reached out to me. I had to concentrate. I needed to prove to Mesmer that I didn’t need his help, that I could solve this case by myself, that I finally had a reason to exist!


What did Shetland use to piece the cord together again?



E V A D E  P I X Y H O E S

> Trial One - Part 13
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


E V A D E  P I X Y H O E S



˅



˅



˅



E P O X Y  A D H E S I V E



 



“IT CONNECTS!”



 


“Epoxy adhesive!” I exclaimed, exasperated. “That’s how he did it!”

Mesmer’s stoic mask dropped for a split second, revealing his awe. “Yes,” he said quietly. “You’re right.”

“Excuse me!?” Inky cried. “What are you even talking about? Some poxy adhesive? I’m so confused right now.”

“It’s epoxy adhesive,” Elsie chimed in. “It uses two chemical compounds that are relatively useless on their own, but once they are meshed together they create a strong bond.” She pondered for a moment. “Yes, I see. If the epoxy adhesive was applied to the keycard a few minutes before, it wouldn’t actually have much effect and the compounds should still only harden when they meet each other. That way Shetland could have feasibly gotten the keycard ready while in the locker room and then simply grabbed it and rushed to Pinkie’s locker. Dr. Scalpel wouldn’t have been able to look inside the locker room herself, and both you and Copper were watching the stairwells. Oh, but there’s one thing about epoxy adhesives that I think we’re missing; Shetland wouldn’t have had time to methodically mesh the two ends of the cord together. Unless he had a way of applying significant pressure for an amount of time I’m still a little skeptical that it would stay stuck together at all.”

“That’s easy,” I said. “Shetland had something perfect for applying pressure while he was out of the area: Pinkie’s body. All he would have to do is place the ends of the cord under Pinkie’s head or back, and that would do the trick. Of course, it wouldn’t result in a perfect bond, which is why Dopple was able to yank it free.”

“Yes, I see now,” Elsie said. Her usual haughty demeanor was quickly erased. “Now that you mention it, I do remember seeing some epoxy adhesive in the MonoMart. I must say, I’m impressed,” she continued, smiling. “I didn’t think you’d know what epoxy adhesive even was, let alone figure out it must have been used in the murder. Have you experience in DIY?”

“Not really,” I replied, rubbing the back of my neck. In truth, my experience was next to zero. The only reason I’d known about epoxy adhesive was from reading a horror novel by the name of ‘Castle by The Lake,’ in which a rich family refurbish an ancient stone castle against the wishes of the townsponies, who viewed it as an important historical relic. The community bands together and systematically murders each member of the family, with the police unable to prove any wrongdoing. In one of the early scenes there are some musings over putting up new shelves and wooden units, in which a stallion by the name of Dowel explains the uses and benefits of epoxy adhesives. I had never actually used any in my entire life. 

“So it’s true?” Dish Panner said. “Shetland did all that?”

“It would explain everything thus far,” Dopple said. “At the beginning of this case, from my perspective, there were only four possible suspects: Shetland, Dr. Scalpel, Copper and Maribelle. 

“Dr. Scalpel might have been the killer if not for the revelation of there being no accomplice. If she left the swimming area after Shetland she might have had a chance to move the body and could’ve kept the glue and keycard in her own locker, but there’s no way she could’ve manipulated the objects in such a way while outside the room as has been pointed out regarding unicorn telekinesis. She couldn’t have moved it while Shetland was with her, either.

“Copper cast suspicion on herself by leaving the group during the search, but since Dr. Scalpel closed the windows before this occurred and with there being no way of opening them from the outside she can be quickly written off as innocent.”

“And Maribelle would never kill anyone!” Button chimed in. “She’s too perfect!”

“Why thank you, my dear Button,” Maribelle said, smiling. “You’ve just earned yourself a friendly hug.”

“Yes!” Button cheered, his cheeks glowing red. “Can we do it in my room? Maybe in the shower?”

“I think what Dopple meant,” Copper said, “was that Maribelle wouldn’t have had the chance to reclaim Pinkie’s body due to Button racing into the swimming area. Being an earth pony, it would’ve been pretty difficult for her to put Pinkie’s body on the diving board.”

“A-also,” Reph said, timidly raising a hoof. “Dish Panner searched Maribelle’s clothes and found n-nothing on them, remember? She would’ve still had the adhesives tucked into her outfit. Isn’t that right?”

Dish Panner pulled her limbs inwards and stared at the floor, her complexion growing redder by the second. “That is true. I just, don’t wish to remember that encounter. It was far too much for my feeble heart to cope with.”

“But Dish Panner!” Button called. “I need to know! Write me a letter or draw me a picture. Something! Maybe a flip book that shows exactly what happened! Except draw me in your place, okay?”

“I know!” Inky exclaimed. “They were both so nervous to take their clothes off because they’re actually stallions in disguise!”

Button gasped. “That’s not true! It’s not, is it, Maribelle?”

“Oh, will you all stop this!” Monobunny blasted, landing a thunderous hit on his stool with a gavel strike. “You are completely derailing the trial! And for the record, I made it very clear which participants were male and female during the introductions. Imagine if someone here you thought was a mare was actually a stallion, and your favorite waifu turns out to be a guy-fu! What a twist that would be!”

Inky tapped her chin. “Is that a reference to something, or…?”

“Are you all as forgetful as you seem?” Shetland said, scowling. “I don’t think any of you realize what has just been said.”

“What!?” Elsie shrieked. “We know you’re the killer so just fess up!”

Shetland turned to her, cool as a cucumber. “I will admit that of the four suspects Dopple listed I appear to be the most suspicious, but I did not kill Pinkie Pie.”

“How can you say that?” Sanscript snapped.

“You’ve fabricated a very convincing story about me, but you’re forgetting two things: firstly, we should not be so accepting of Monobunny’s statements just because he claims to be honest. We’re locked up in here because of him, remember? Secondly, if Maribelle is off the hook because she was searched for items and came up clean…” Shetland’s gaze grew wild. “Why am I not considered innocent when I too was searched, and found to have nothing on me?”

There was a palpable silence. Now that Shetland had pointed it out, I remembered. While we were searching everyone’s rooms Shetland had removed his shirt and had his pocket inspected by Yoko. We could argue as to how his pocket was empty when he spoke to Scalpel next to the swimming pool, but this had now thrown a spanner in the works.

“I should’ve still had the adhesive tubes, correct? I couldn’t have left them in the locker room or they would’ve been found during the investigation. And just in case anyone tries to say I ate them, Monobunny made something else very clear during the tour of the MonoMart.”


.



“As a side note, stashing away murder tools or hiding things by swallowing them is also disallowed! Otherwise we’d need to slice you open to find the clues and that just creates problems!”



.


“Tell me,” Shetland continued, “what would happen if I decided to hide the offending items in my stomach?”

“I’d have to cut you open!” Monobunny said gleefully. “If the only way to come to a conclusion rested on knowing if vital clues were inside a suspect’s digestive system, I’d have to intervene in the quickest way possible, which means no waiting for a bowel movement! Unfortunately for anyone who tries this, I refuse to use anesthetic, so prepare for a world of pain!”

“Then do it!” Elsie demanded. “Anything to prove he’s the killer!”

“I don’t have to do that. Not a single one of you has swallowed any suspicious items, so it’s not necessary. And no cavity search is necessary either! I really shouldn’t have to point this stuff out but you lot are something else!” Monobunny crossed his arms in a huff. 

“So then,” Shetland said, smiling, “where could I have hidden it? We checked the swimming area, we checked the grounds, we even checked everyone’s room. I had nothing in my shirt pocket, I didn’t swallow the adhesive that you’ve fabricated the existence of so confidently, and I have no mane with which to conceal anything. I’ve also had to spread my wings several times this morning, such as flying up to the roof and hovering while I broke Pinkie’s window, meaning I couldn’t have had anything tucked between my feathers or they would’ve fallen out.” He looked around the room assertively. “So once again, I insist, I could not have killed Pinkie Pie. You accept Monobunny’s honesty but you won’t accept the honesty of the most stalwart police officer in all of Equestria! I fight for the lives of innocents! I do everything to protect the peace! And you accuse me of killing Pinkie so that I can escape, leaving the rest of you to die here? How can you dare say that!? Do you know how many times I’ve put myself in danger to save others!?”

“I knew it!” Scalpel exclaimed joyfully, wiping a tear from her eyes. “I’m so sorry for doubting you, Shetland. I didn’t know what to think!”

“I forgive you, Doctor. Every single one of us is in a dire situation so it’s not a surprise I came under suspicion.”

“Well it does seem eerily coincidental,” Sanscript said. “You were the one who organized the search, you were the one who decided that only two of you should look inside the swimming area while others were in groups of three, and I suspect that emptying your pocket in front of the Doctor was an attempt to remove suspicion from yourself. I also fail to see the point in Greyscale and Copper watching the stairwells, even if there was a chance of Pinkie moving between the floors.”

“That was my suggestion,” Copper said, raising a hoof. “It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that I think about it, you’re right. The four of us should have searched the swimming area together, that way nobody could have a moment alone.”

“Regardless of your thoughts,” Shetland said, “I fervently insist that I did not kill Pinkie, and the gaping hole in this outlandish theory is proof of it. I had no suspicious items while I spoke to Dr. Scalpel and the same goes for when Yoko inspected my clothing and badge. I didn’t swallow any tubes of glue and we searched the dome from top to bottom. It sounds to me like you’ve fabricated a fantastical scenario like mere foals. Need I remind you all that our lives are on the line?”

Copper looked at me concernedly. “Is there really nothing else you can think of?”

I sighed weakly and shook my head. “No.”

Shetland snorted. “Then be done with it!”

Reph groaned and dropped to the floor. “B-but where do we go from here?”

“Wait,” Dopple piped up. “Let us be sure. Shetland has made a good argument, but we can’t simply dismiss the thought that he could’ve hidden the evidence in some other way. Given that the case so far has pointed to Shetland rather convincingly up to this point, we must at least consider the possibility.”

“I agree,” Yoko said. “I still find it hard to imagine the windbag killing poor Pinkie, but there could be something we’ve missed.”

“Do as you wish,” Shetland said smugly. “Then once you’ve exhausted all your ideas we can get to properly solving the case.”

I clenched my eyes shut, trying to concentrate. The theory that I’d considered to be flawless was crumbling around me. I had been so sure, so confident, so adamant that I had it figured out. I couldn’t even remember the last time in my life I had felt so sure of myself, and it turns out that once again, I’m just a nobody. 

I’d simply assumed Shetland had managed to hide the glue (which was an incorrect deduction to begin with) somewhere. I hadn’t even given it thought as to where. We didn’t find the adhesives during the investigation so unless there was a surefire way of doing so I would have no leg to stand on. But just as Dopple had said, it didn’t make any sense for Scalpel, Copper or Maribelle to be the killer, and nobody else could’ve possibly had the means to do it. Or maybe I’m wrong, I thought glumly. Maybe the killer is someone I hadn’t even considered. I became overpowered by self-doubt. 

“Greyscale?”

I looked up. It was Dopple. “Y-yeah?”

“We’ll need your input too,” she said softly, looking determined.

I couldn’t understand how she could be so supportive of a failure like me. It must be nothing but pity, I thought. Just this once I would rather be hated than pitied. “Sure,” I said unenthusiastically. I took a deep breath. I was completely out of ideas and ready to allow everyone else to take my fate into their hooves. If only there was a clue. If only…


Truth Bullets



Pinkie’s Room



State of The Body



Male Lockers



Pinkie’s Towel



Inky’s Account



 


Dish Panner: Is there any way Shetland could have stashed away the evidence after leaving the locker room?

Reph: Could there have been some way to trick Yoko while his clothes were searched? Maybe through misdirection?

Yoko: No way! I was very thorough, and it was all done in front of a crowd!

Copper: As an illusionist I’ve got ample experience with close-up magic and concealment. A common method for pegasi is to hide it among their feathers, but from what I saw, I don’t think it was that.

Inky: Then did he leave it back in the swimming area?

Scalpel: If that were the case, we would’ve found it during the investigation.

Elsie: Couldn’t it have been disposed of in one of the rooms? Say, by flushing it down the toilet?

Sanscript: How? We checked each of the rooms as a group. Someone would have noticed.

Button: Maybe it was outside the hotel. He could’ve flown to someplace while no-one was looking!

Reph: B-but he was leading the search the entire time.

Maribelle: We searched everywhere we possibly could. It simply can’t have just vanished into thin air.

Scalpel: Right. And he couldn’t have planted it on anyone else.

Shetland: What did I tell you? It would’ve been impossible!

Wait. Something was said just now that changes everything. I’ve figured out how Shetland did it!
> Trial One - Part 14
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“NO, THAT’S WRONG!”



Pinkie’s Room <> We checked each room as a group



< Argument Break >



 


“Wait a second, Sanscript. That’s not entirely true.”

The blue-coated stallion titled his head. “What do you mean? Everyone else here can all agree that during the room search we did so in groups, with no chance of slipping something past us. We even checked the beds, curtains, and wardrobes for potential clues, and Shetland was in clear view of us all during that time.”

“He disposed of the adhesives before that,” I stated. My heart was racing. I finally had the answer to expose Shetland for his crimes. “The very first room search was done by Shetland. Alone.”

“Really?” Reph asked, looking puzzled. “I’m pretty sure my room was searched first. I remember it very clearly.”

I glanced at Shetland whose face looked as if it might explode at any second. I was unable to suppress a small smile from appearing on my lips. “No, a room was searched before yours. Pinkie’s room.”

“Wait, what!?” Elsie cried. “How can that be?”

“After our group checked up on everyone else, with only Inky being found successfully, we decided we needed to check Pinkie’s room, which seemed like the most obvious place she could be. But without Pinkie’s keycard, we had no choice but to break through the window. Shetland did as such and climbed inside, telling Copper, Dr. Scalpel and I to go back through the hotel corridor as he would be able to open the door from the inside. Thinking about it, Copper – being a pegasus – could’ve easily followed him through the window, but he still told her to go through the hotel entrance anyway. In the time it took for the three of us to walk the distance through the corridor, he could’ve easily flushed the adhesives down the toilet before opening the door.”

“Wait a second!” Shetland blared. “If that’s the case then why would I have asked Monobunny for access to her room in the first place!? If he’d simply opened the door for us, I would’ve had no chance of doing such a thing. Why would I take such a risk?”

“Hmph.” Mesmer rolled his eyes. “I think you already know that. You’re smart enough to understand that Monobunny would do whatever it takes to provide an interesting murder scenario. Everything he’s said and done thus far points to that. He wouldn’t want to jeopardize a successful murder. If you’d been found with the adhesives or if you’d refused to be searched, or come up with some excuse, your cover would’ve been entirely blown and we’d simply have gathered here and cast a guilty verdict. Being the sick little creature that he is, I doubt Monobunny would have been pleased with something so anticlimactic. All these cameras point to one thing: he’s putting on a show.”

“So what!?” Shetland yelled, his entire face tensed. “This is all still just conjecture based on random ideas!”

“No it isn’t,” Copper said, her eyes wide. “I understand now. When the four of us were looking in Pinkie’s room for clues I checked the bathroom.” She frowned, her ire cast in Shetland’s direction. “While Greyscale was looking in the shower I remember hearing the flow of water. It didn’t strike me as suspicious at the time, but looking back, it was a sign that the toilet had been flushed not long before that.”

Shetland’s face fell. “How do we know you’re not just making things up to hurry the trial along!? If nobody else can verify your claim then why should we trust you at all!?”

“Can you really say that?” Copper replied angrily. “Right now, with all the evidence pointing to you and you alone, you really think they should trust your word against mine!?”

“You killed Pinkie!” Inky cried, tears falling down her cheeks. “You selfish, evil bastard! She was the sweetest mare ever and you killed her! How can you live with yourself!?”

“It’s understandable,” Mesmer said coolly. “With the threat of being killed by someone it’s enough to make anyone desperate. Shetland probably wanted to get out before anyone else had the chance. We’re all trapped here with our precious lives and loved ones outside these walls, after all.”

I winced at Mesmer’s words. What precious life? What loved ones? I have more to lose in here than I do out there...

“Shetland, I…” Scalpel mumbled something to herself, her lips quivering. “I was wrong about you after all. I kept trusting you despite everything the others were saying. I’m such a fool.”

“So it’s finally decided, then?” Elsie asked, sounding exhausted. “We just need to vote for your sorry flank and let you eat your just desserts!”

“Voting time already?” Monobunny said, waving his gavel like a sword. “So long as everyone’s sure.”

“Yes,” Maribelle said with a nod. “As much as it pains me to do so. My dear Shetland, may you confess your sins now and repent for your actions. Perhaps then you may find solace and forgiveness in the afterlife.”

“I’m disappointed,” Yoko said gravely, shaking his head. “Looks like I was right in thinking you were a jerk, but an officer of the law debasing himself to murder? That’s just pathetic.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, feeling strangely giddy. I had done everything I could, and after much contention and stress, it was finally over. All that was left was to vote.

“You really think you’ve solved it?” Shetland said deeply, his demeanor calm and collected. “There’s one very crucial part of your theory that hasn’t even been spoken of yet.” He stood up straight, his face like iron. “Pinkie’s keycard. You’ve described how it was glued back together again, but not how it was cut in the first place.”

“Well,” I began, ready to demean his paltry excuse. But then I froze. Something wasn’t right. A terror crept up my spine as I realized what he was getting at. I was speechless. 

“Wait, it’s simple,” Dish Panner said. “All we need is to show he had a chance to cut it, right? Then he’ll have no argument left. Okay, let’s get it over with.”

“Precisely,” Mesmer affirmed. “I don’t know why Shetland is so sure of himself.”

No, I said inwardly. I know exactly why. I’d never given it much thought but now, Shetland has a leg to stand on. He’s seen a hole in my argument that I didn’t know was there. 

Shetland sneered. “When we visited the MonoMart yesterday evening Monobunny made something very clear. Do you all remember what it was?”


.



“Are you saying you don’t like my special little collection? They’re all top quality stainless steel! Only the biggest and best, most terrifying, most monstrous, sharpest, stabbiest, slashiest, skull-shattering, bone-crunching weapons are good enough for my lovely participants! Pocket knives? Are for pathetic cowards! Murder should be spectacular and cinematic, not sneaky and boring!”



.


“Interesting, isn’t it?” Shetland continued, a grin appearing on his face. “I could very well have concealed some small tubes of adhesive in my pocket, but any kind of knife or shears would be impossible to hide. Just as Monobunny pointed out, pocket knives were not an option.”

“That is true,” Elsie said anxiously. “I’d not even considered that fact.”

“Whatever,” Mesmer said. “This should be easy to solve.”

I hope you’re right, I said silently, for once hoping Mesmer could succeed where I had failed. For as it stood, I was utterly lost.



Truth Bullets



Ladder



Pinkie’s Keycard



Monobunny File #1



Inky’s Account



Machine Gun Cameras


Shetland: As I’ve just pointed out, I couldn’t have concealed any of the knives or shears when we visited the MonoMart yesterday afternoon. So please tell me, how did I cut the cord on Pinkie’s keycard?

Dopple: From what I saw the cut had to have been clean. He couldn’t have simply chewed through it or the cord would have been frayed.

Dish Panner: We didn’t find any knives or sharp implements in the kitchen or any other the other rooms in the hotel. It had to have been taken from the MonoMart!

Reph: But could he have snuck it out while the rest of us were present? We know that he didn’t have an accomplice. 

Elsie: If he couldn’t have hidden it on himself he could’ve hidden it among someone else’s items.

Maribelle: But how? We would’ve surely noticed a knife if they are all so big.

Inky: Maybe he hid it in Yoko’s big sack of rice!

Yoko: That wouldn’t work! He’d have had to open the bag and the rice would’ve spilled out!

Scalpel: We were all walking as a group from the MonoMart to the dining room. He wasn’t carrying anything at the time, so he wouldn’t have been able to hide it amongst his things. He might’ve been able to swipe two tiny tubes, but there’s no possible way he could’ve left with a knife or shears without any of us noticing.

Copper: Let’s not forget that by the time we left the dining hall the MonoMart would have closed. He wouldn’t have been able to get inside without incurring punishment.

Dish Panner: Even when he allowed Button to use his bathroom he was standing in the hallway, and he didn’t leave at any time.

Inky: What about his police badge? Couldn’t he use that to cut through the cord?

Yoko: No way! I checked it over, remember? I even held it in my hoof. If it had some kind of sharp edge I would’ve noticed!

Sanscript: Well then, it seems to me that he simply went to the MonoMart this morning before the meeting took place. 

Dish Panner: If he was meeting Pinkie at the swimming pool, he would’ve had more than enough time to carry out his crime before Greyscale, Yoko and Dopple showed up.

Mesmer: Add to the fact that he could’ve easily concealed a kinfe within a rolled-up towel and the explanation is obvious. 

Button: Yeah, that’s it!

Shetland: Do you really think so?

Dopple: …

I don’t want to do this… but I have no choice. Even at the risk of shaking up my entire theory, and with everyone’s lives on the line, I must reveal the truth!
> Trial One - Part 15
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“NO, THAT’S WRONG!”



Inky’s Account <> went to the MonoMart this morning



< Argument Break >


“You’re wrong,” I said weakly. I raised my head slowly, afraid to speak another word, but knowing that I had no choice. “I don’t know how to say this, but Shetland didn’t go to the MonoMart this morning. It would’ve been impossible, actually.”

“What!?” Sanscript cried in shock. “What are you saying!? Did you see him this morning!?”

“No,” I replied. 

“Did anyone here see him before half seven!? Is anyone here able to confirm that he was elsewhere!?”

A series of shaken heads and negative replies from the group.

“Well then,” Sanscript said, visibly irritated, “what possible reason can you have to believe this? The MonoMart would have been open in time to allow him to go inside and obtain whatever he pleased. You’ve consistently insisted that Shetland was the killer and now you’re arguing in favor of him?”

“Of course!” Shetland declared, smiling in my direction. “He is one who seeks the truth no matter how strongly he felt about his original accusation. I have misjudged you, Greyscale. You are determined to see this through with logic.”

“Quiet,” Mesmer said sternly. He turned to me, looking concerned. Rather than speak harshly, his tone was solid but decidedly softer than usual. “Greyscale, what was it that prevented Shetland from going to the MonoMart this morning?”

“Inky can tell you,” I replied. “She was at the MonoMart from the moment it opened until she was found over an hour later.”

Mesmer sighed deeply, clenching his eyes shut for a second or so. “Is this true, Inky?”

“Well yeah,” the mare replied, apparently not understanding the severity of her account. “I wanted to get inside as soon as possible so I waited by the entrance at just before seven and entered the moment it was open.”

“And you saw no-one?” Mesmer asked. “You can be sure no-one else entered before you were discovered by Maribelle and her group?”

“Positive. I might not have been looking at the entrance the whole time but it’d be obvious if someone came in because of the announcement that plays. That’s what startled me when Maribelle, Button and Dish Panner showed up. I was even near the back end of the store and I heard it loud and clear.”

“I need to make sure,” Mesmer continued, “that Shetland couldn’t have come in just after you, slipping in through the doorway, thus preventing the announcement from playing?”

“Nuh-uh. When I first came in I went to the fruit boxes near the entrance. If someone had come in before the door closed, I would’ve seen them, especially someone the size of Shetland.”

“Inky,” Dopple interjected. “Are you absolutely certain you entered precisely at seven?”

“Hey, what is this, an inquisition!?” Inky barked back angrily. “I’m not stupid, you know. Yes, I’m sure it was right on the dot. There’s a little light next to the clock that turns green the moment it hits opening time and something like a bell. As soon as that played the doors opened automatically, letting me inside. So yeah, Shetland couldn’t have come to the MonoMart in the morning. Why’s that a big deal?”

“It means,” Mesmer said, frowning. “That he couldn’t have pulled off the murder. That is, unless anyone has seen any kind of knife or sharp instrument in any portion of the hotel?”

“Not me,” Yoko said. “I was in the gym for a while this morning and there’s nothing in there that could be used for cutting.”

“Besides,” Dish Panner began, “there wasn’t even anything in the kitchen, and we had a ground tour of the entire complex. The only place you could hope to find such an item is the MonoMart.”

Saclpel shuddered. “And if the knives, shears and other blades are too big to be concealed, he wouldn’t have been able to sneak out with one in front of all of us walking alongside him.”

“Also, the closing time,” Elsie put forward. “We were all together in the dining hall until after the MonoMart closed. Shetland didn’t leave our sight at any point.”

“Um... A secret entrance?” Reph suggested. “Maybe a door at the back?”

“Nope,” Inky said. “If there was one, I’d have found it. There aren’t even any windows.”

Button gasped. “What about the lockers!? Yoko and Shetland tore ‘em off so maybe the remains could be used!”

“A clever thought,” Dopple commented. “But the metal used for the doors are too thick to offer a clean cut. Whatever was used had to have been very sharp.”

Silence reigned for a few seconds as the realization dawned on us all. 

“Damn it,” Mesmer said disappointedly. “I should’ve questioned Inky more thoroughly during the investigation. Then I would’ve realized this sooner.” He took a sharp breath. “Thank you for bringing this to light, Greyscale.”

I merely nodded in response. 

“So who’s the killer?” Button asked. “If Shetland couldn’t have done it, who could?”

“A good question,” Shetland said, regaining his authoritative demeanor and speaking to us as the leader he once was. “My theory is that this murder has been staged in an attempt to frame one of us, simply because none of us wished to commit murder. The one who is behind it has been working with Monobunny and is the mastermind of this whole scenario! They’re the one occupying the sixteenth room on the second floor, the one that doesn’t belong to any of us! Even if I could have gotten hold of a knife, where could I have disposed of it? I certainly couldn’t have flushed one that size down the toilet, and we searched every square inch of the hotel and the surrounding area. But if the killer was the occupant of the sixteenth room, they would have had the chance to go to the MonoMart while we were busy elsewhere and they could have kept an eye on us easily. It’s obvious that the cameras aren’t here just for show, they’re so the mastermind can keep track of our movements, kill whenever they want to and then watch as we go at each other’s throats for their own sick pleasure!”

Reph timidly raised a hoof. “But Monobunny said–”

“I don’t care what Monobunny said!” Shetland blared. “None of us can be totally sure that he’s not lying about some things, right?”

“This again!?” Monobunny cried, fiercely striking his stool with his hammer, emitting what could have been mistaken for thunderclaps. “When will you ever learn!? I refuse to lie! If these games are to be good enough I must be honest at all possible times! You’re a veteran police officer, right? You understand the psychological makeup of megalomaniacal sickos with God complexes, right? Then what sense would it make for me to turn my back on the most important thing about me!? The greatest despair can only come from the truth! That’s the whole point of it all!”

“Who will you trust?” Shetland asked, looking to each of us in turn. “The creepy black and white rabbit who keeps us trapped here, or a defender of justice like myself? The choice is obvious, if you ask me.”

“That’s bullshit!” Copper cried. “We have just as much reason to trust you as we do the rabbit. How do we even know you’re who you say you are? A real Ultimate Police Officer would’ve devised a better plan so that Pinkie didn’t end up dead. It’s suspicious that you specified a meeting time an hour after we had access to the MonoMart and swimming area. It’s also suspicious how you showed your badge to Scalpel during the search, almost as if to throw us off your scent and prove your innocence, which didn’t work. Not to mention, you sent three earth ponies to search outside the hotel, keeping all four pegasi inside, meaning nobody would’ve had a chance to fly up to the roof or look in through the windows to see what you were up to. Finally, the rising water in the cistern is the biggest offender.”

Shetland remained cool, observing Copper with a stony glare. “Regarding your first point, I will admit some error on my part. I didn’t expect a murder to happen so soon, and in the very first moment that our group was apart. On to your second point, my badge is of great importance to me, and it is a habit of mine to retrieve it whilst speaking about the protection of Equestria’s citizens, that’s all. Thirdly, I hadn’t considered the roof since neither Pinkie nor Inky would’ve had access at the time of their disappearance. As for the water in the cistern, I cannot help but feel it was merely your imagination, spurred on by the frantic nature of this trial. I’m surprised you would even remember such a thing. That’s what’s the most suspicious.”

Copper bared her teeth, her posture edging towards an attacking stance. “You can’t turn this on me when you’re the most suspicious one here. Your pathetic excuses keep piling up! The evidence points to you!”

“And yet none of you have an explanation for how I supposedly cut the cord on Pinkie’s keycard. Add to that the fact that concealing any of the tools from the MonoMart would be extremely difficult in any case, and absolutely impossible to accomplish by flushing away. Despite checking every inch of the dome and staying in groups, we found nothing of the sort. 

“Also, if I did plan to kill Pinkie, why would I have gone through such an elaborate setup? If I’d simply snapped her neck and left it at that there would’ve been no need for hiding the body, no need for stealing keycards or any of that other crap that you’ve all come up with, and there would’ve been no evidence to speak of! There would be no reason for it whatsoever! This whole murder scenario you’ve cooked up makes no sense at all. That is why I insist that I am innocent. That is why the killer has to be someone who has not yet shown their face, no matter what Monobunny says!”

“You’re wrong,” I said.

Shetland cocked his head. “And what do you mean by that?”

“You’re the killer,” I replied. The world began to blur. My soul was on fire. My heart thundered inside my chest yet I remained composed and placid. The hundreds of cameras that surrounded us, the lights at the edge of the hall, the wispy blue light that weaved spirals around us, and everything but the glow of the spotlights and Shetland’s towering form faded from my vision, the other participants receding into mere ghostly shadows. It was a sensation beyond description. I now had focus I couldn’t have dreamed of. The rest of the world was drowned out as I made my declaration, nothing but Shetland and I facing each other off. “You were able to cut the cord. In fact, it would’ve been an easy task.”

“Okay then,” Shetland said, shrugging. “You’re a persistent one, I’ll give you that. Explain to me how I could’ve cut the cord, because from where I’m standing, it must have been impossible.”

“Greyscale?” Dopple said, her voice just barely reaching my ears as a storm raged in my mind. “You really have it figured out, don’t you?”

I nodded. My prey was in sight. All that was left to do was cut them down. This was the final test, the final riddle, the final decisive strike to put an end to this murder trial!


Final Panic vs Shetland Yard


The cord had to have been cut with a sharp implement!


I couldn’t have bitten through it!



The only knives and shears at the MonoMart are too big to be concealed!



No such items were ever found during the search!


There were no sharp implements in any of the hotel rooms!


There was no accomplice who could’ve covered for me!



I couldn’t have used the remains of the male lockers!



I couldn’t have planted the item on anyone else!


My badge couldn’t have been used!


I couldn’t have gone to the MonoMart in the morning or Inky would have seen me!



I couldn’t have gone to the MonoMart alone last night!



I couldn’t have gone before we were brought there by Monobunny!



<><><><><><><><>



<><><><><><>



<><><><>



<><><>



<>



So tell me, how could I have possibly cut the cord attached to Pinkie’s keycard!?


I took a deep breath, ready to finish the job. Adrenaline surged through my veins as I delivered my answer – the killing blow to Shetland’s argument! 


"THIS IS THE END!"

> Trial One - Part 16
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


a a B d e l o R r z



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a o r R a z B d l e



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a R o z r B a l d e



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Razor Blade



< Argument Break >


“The knives and shears would’ve been far too big for you to conceal them, that’s true, but the same can’t be said for one other sharp item in the MonoMart: razor blades.”

Shetland recoiled, his previously assertive demeanor dropping in an instant and being replaced by horrified shock. “B-but that’s…” He trailed off, looking to Scalpel for support. The unicorn mare looked away just as he did so, grimacing.

“It should be plain to see,” I continued, “that such an item could have easily been stored inside your shirt pocket. It may not serve as a particularly effective murder weapon, but it would have been perfect for cutting rope with the minimum amount of fraying. That way, you could have disposed of it before the meeting even started.”

“You’re right,” Mesmer commented. “Concealing it while we explored the MonoMart would have also been a simple task.” He smiled a little. “I didn’t realize there were razor blades in the store. You have a keen eye, Greyscale.”

Mesmer’s compliment was welcome, but I was reminded of exactly why the presence of razor blades had been so memorable. My heart jolted, just a little. 

“Shut up!” Shetland cried. “You think you’re so smart! Why would I have gone through that if I could’ve just killed Pinkie and left the body?”

“That’s obvious,” Mesmer replied. “You needed a safety net in case Pinkie had let slip that the two of you were meeting in the swimming pool. She was a friendly and talkative mare, enough that upon asking her to accompany you it wouldn’t have been unlikely that she’d previously mentioned it to someone in passing conversation. If that happened you would’ve been the prime suspect, as the other would simply need to come forward. Your plan was to devise a setup that pushed the blame away from yourself as much as you could, making it seem impossible for you to have committed the murder. Not that this should need explaining, as it doesn’t matter what your reasons were. The evidence points to you.”

“I don’t care!” Shetland bellowed, flinging an angry hoof outwards only to have it repelled by the barrier. “It’s all just conjecture! It’s all wrong! You don’t have the evidence to pin on me!”

“This just in,” Monobunny said. “After sifting through the dome’s waste pipes, some interesting discoveries have been made!” He pointed his gavel downwards and a small hole opened up near the center of the stage. A black pillar then rose from it to around eye level, spinning slowly, upon which stood a canvas propped up by a wooden stand. Pinned on to the canvas was a gleaming razor blade alongside two capped tubes – one white and one black. Just below was some torn plastic packaging, the words ‘MonoPoxy Adhesive’ printed along the top. “The things equines will flush down the toilet these days. What a waste!”

“There it is!” Inky exclaimed. “So it’s true? You really killed Pinkie? You heartless monster! You don’t deserve to live!”

Yoko spat at the floor. “You sicken me, Shetland. You’re a pathetic disgrace.”

“I don’t know,” Button said anxiously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Like, how did anyone flush a canvas down the toilet?”

“I don’t think that’s what happened,” Maribelle replied, chuckling. “Only the things on the canvas.”

“Lies!” Shetland screamed, veins bulging from his neck. “This is all part of Monobunny’s sick game!”

“Maybe so,” I stated. “But you’re the one who played by his rules. Allow me to go over the case, piece by piece, to leave no doubt in anyone’s mind of how it was done. And then…” I frowned, staring into the eyes of the quivering wreck that was Shetland Yard, “You’ll have to face your punishment.”


“HERE’S EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED IN THIS CASE!”


“The killer’s plans began yesterday during Monobunny’s tour of the dome. When we entered the locker rooms for the swimming pool, the killer convinced us that the doors to each of our lockers should be removed to prevent anyone from storing dangerous weapons. Together with Yoko, they did as such, leaving every locker on the stallions’ side open and bare. This was seen as a move towards keeping us safe, but it was actually a great ploy when you consider an important facet of the murder itself.

“After visiting each communal area of the hotel we were then given a tour of the MonoMart, a supermarket with an enormous range of food, drink, and other items. It was here that the killer obtained some important items vital to carrying out their plan – a razor blade and a small packet of epoxy adhesive. It would be difficult for most of us to carry these items out without being spotted, but the killer had the perfect hiding place – their shirt pocket. This way they were able to stash the items without anyone noticing.

“After picking up various food items we retreated to the dining area for a meal, only to discover that there were no knives for chopping vegetables in the kitchen. The killer disallowed anyone from fetching one, supposedly in the name of safety, but in reality it was so they could – if necessary – convince us that they couldn’t have carried out a certain action, one that the razor blade was to be used for.

“It was also during this time that the killer set in motion another important part of their plan. They arranged for everyone to meet the next morning in the dining room at eight o’ clock to discuss our plan of escape, a full hour after the swimming area would open. They also set their sights on Pinkie Pie, their chosen murder victim. After everyone had dispersed, they approached Pinkie and invited her to a morning swim at seven o’ clock. Pinkie had fervently displayed her trust in the would-be killer and thus agreed, completely unaware of the cruel fate that awaited her.

“Both Pinkie and the killer met up at the third floor for seven, each carrying a towel. Pinkie had also come with her inflatable ring which she had since blown up to full size, ready for the swim. They each entered through their respective locker rooms and met up on the other side, where the killer struck, grabbing Pinkie by the neck and snapping it in two, killing her instantly. For most equines this would be a difficult murder method, but the killer was strong and had a degree of combat training, allowing them to slay Pinkie with nothing but their own hooves with ease.

“But the killer wasn’t done yet. On the off chance that Pinkie had spoken about their arranged meeting with someone else, the killer put into action a plan to hide her body. And the perfect hiding place would be somewhere nobody else could reach – inside Pinkie’s locker. But blocking their path was a deadly machine gun attached to a camera that would cut down any stallions trying to get into the mare’s locker room, or so it would seem. As Monobunny had stated the day before, the machine gun could only fire if the intruder was seen by the connected camera. The killer used Monobunny’s specific wording to figure out a weak spot that would allow them to negate the machine gun’s threat.

“The killer covered the camera atop the tripod with the towel that they had brought with them and snuck inside with Pinkie’s body. Next, they took a razor blade that had been concealed inside their shirt pocket, the same razor blade that had been taken from the MonoMart the day before. Using this they cut the cord attached to the keycard around Pinkie’s neck. The precise cut would lead us to believe that it could have only been done with a knife or shears, but this was not the case.

“They put Pinkie’s body inside her own locker, along with something else – the inflatable ring Pinkie had taken. But it wouldn’t fit in the same locker while it was inflated, so the killer quickly tore it open and puffed out the air, allowing them to hide it in the same place. This could have been done to prevent anyone from finding it, but during the investigation it gave us an extra clue to point towards the hiding place of Pinkie’s body.

“Next, the killer took Pinkie’s towel into the store room next to the swimming pool and hid it right at the back. It may have seemed like an amateur mistake to leave evidence lying around, but the towel would become a vital part of carrying out the rest of their plan. Hiding Pinkie’s keycard inside their shirt pocket, they left the swimming area, heading for their room so they could dispose of the razor blade by flushing it down the toilet.

“Several minutes later at around half seven, Dopple, Yoko and I entered the swimming pool, completely oblivious to the fact that Pinkie’s corpse was mere meters away. After our swim we went to the dining room for the eight o’ clock meeting, which the killer had held. Everyone was present except for Pinkie Pie and Ink Slinger, and after a short while it was decided that a search should be made to look for them.

“Knowing about the location of Pinkie’s body, the killer made sure that they would search the same area, but to avoid suspicion insisted that everyone search in groups of three or more. After forming groups for the MonoMart and hotel exterior, the first floor and the second floor, there were four of us left for the third floor, the killer, Dr. Scalpel, Copper and myself. Looking back, it was a strange decision to leave the areas outside the hotel to Maribelle, Button and Dish Panner, since they’re all earth ponies and would be unable to check the roof areas, and most importantly, be unable to see the goings on inside the swimming area. The killer had probably anticipated this possibility and ensured that no pegasus would be a part of that group.

“After Copper suggested an idea to watch the second floor stairwells to check if anyone broke away from their group or moved between the floors, the killer heartily agreed, leaving them with checking the swimming area alongside Dr. Scalpel, arguing that between them they could still search each locker room, and would still count as a group of four with Copper and I. But in reality, this was done so that they would have an easier time removing the body from its hiding place without getting caught.

“And so, everyone split off into groups to search for Pinkie and Inky. After leaving Copper and I, the killer walked into the male locker room and prepared something using items they had hidden inside their shirt pocket. They took out Pinkie’s keycard and the tubes of epoxy adhesive and dabbed a small amount of each chemical compound on either end of the cord. During this time it was thought that they were searching the locker room for clues, so it wouldn’t be suspicious to stay there for a short amount of time. 

“Instead of carrying the items with them again, the killer kept the adhesive tubes and Pinkie’s keycard in one of the open lockers that wouldn’t be visible from outside. Since Dr. Scalpel was the only one present in the area, she would have been unable to enter the male locker room and find the evidence.

“The two carried out a search of the area, with Dr. Scalpel closing the windows, presumably to close off any access points that could provide a murderer with an escape route. It was a small action, but one that would help prove Copper’s innocence later on.

“The killer and Dr. Scalpel searched the store room and found Pinkie’s towel, the same one that had been planted earlier. After the search was finished the killer did something else to pass off their fake innocence, taking their badge from their pocket during a conversation with Dr. Scalpel. This was to throw us off should we consider the concealment of items in that exact place, but was possible simply because they had left those items somewhere else temporarily.

“The killer kept hold of the towel and walked towards the male locker room while Dr. Scalpel exited through the female locker room. But the killer wasn’t ready to leave yet. Using their speed of flight they were able to dash into the male locker room and pick up Pinkie’s keycard, then fly into the female locker room, placing Pinkie’s towel on top of the camera before just before doing so. Using the keycard, they unlocked Pinkie’s locker, removed her body and shut the door. Then they flew up with Pinkie’s body to the diving board and tied the cord around her neck, placing it in such a way that the ends would have force applied to them and allow the adhesive to set, creating the illusion that her keycard had never been removed in the first place. However, it wasn’t a perfect job, and the cord would eventually come undone during our investigation.

“With every second counting, the killer flew out, grabbing Pinkie’s towel and tubes of epoxy adhesive, stashing the latter inside their shirt pocket as before. The killer exited the locker room and met up with Copper and I around fifteen seconds after Dr. Scalpel had done so, not rousing our suspicion at the time. Next, we questioned each group one by one if they had had any success in the search, with no discoveries made until we came across Maribelle, Button and Dish Panner, who had found Inky in the MonoMart. It turned out she had been there since opening time and had forgotten about the meeting. 

“With Pinkie still missing, it was considered that she might still be in her room. After Monobunny refused to open her door, the killer decided to break into her room through the window and told the three of us to go back into the hotel as they would simply unlock the door from the inside. This, however, was actually part of the killer’s plan to discard their incriminating items for good. While alone in Pinkie’s room, the killer flushed the tubes of adhesive down the toilet before letting us inside, allowing us to conduct another fruitless search of her room.

“With everyone returning to the dining room and Pinkie still missing, the killer devised a new search, one that would cover everyone’s personal rooms. By doing this they were able to keep up the façade of actually caring about Pinkie being missing, and so each of our rooms were searched in turn with nothing being found.

“During this time the killer was questioned about having their clothes searched and the killer obliged, having nothing to fear now that all items had been disposed of. It was also around this time that Copper temporarily left the group to grab a drink from the MonoMart, a decision that made her look suspicious, but one that wouldn’t have given her an opportunity to fly back into the swimming area since the windows had been closed and could only be opened from the inside.

“After the search of each other’s rooms turned up nothing and Pinkie’s towel being the only available clue, we once again congregated in the dining room, deciding what to do next. Coincidentally, it was around this time that Button Mash asked Maribelle to go swimming with him, and the two rushed off to the pool, discovering Pinkie’s corpse – which had seemed to appear from thin air – in the process. Once the body discovery announcement played the rest of us were called to the same place, and the investigation began. 

“This was a multi-layered and clever murder, one that required planning that the killer probably cooked up while being given a tour of the third floor and were able to put it into action once the correct tools were discovered at the MonoMart. There’s only one possible culprit that I can think of, someone who could’ve carried out such a devious plan all while tricking us into believing their actions were for the sake of our safety. Only one of us could have been in all the necessary places at all the correct times to pull it off, and only one of us could have orchestrated the day’s events to match what they needed. And that someone is none other than the Ultimate Police Officer, Shetland Yard!”
> Trial One - Final
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m right, aren’t I Shetland? Was there anything I missed? Anything I got wrong? Any piece of evidence that could be used in your defense?”

The room became eerily silent. All eyes were on the Shetland, the stallion’s eyes clenched shut, beads of sweat dripping from his muzzle. Slowly, his eyelids rose. All traces of assurance and rebellion were gone, replaced with utter and unquestionable defeat. 

“No,” Scalpel said weakly, her head shaking rapidly. Tears began streaming down her cheeks as she fell to the floor, trembling. “Why? Why would you do such a thing? I trusted you. We all trusted you. Pinkie trusted you!” The mare’s voice became screeching and distorted as the uncontrollable sobbing began. “You were supposed to be our leader and you killed her! You deranged sociopath! You monster! Pinkie was nothing but an innocent mare and you snuffed out her life for your own selfish needs! You’re not the Ultimate Police Officer, not by a long shot! Nobody with that title would do such a thing! What happened to caring about the lives of others!? What happened to protecting the innocents!? Has it always meant nothing to you? You didn’t even try and find an escape route with us! You killed in the first moment you got! You’re a sick, twisted, evil creature!” She took a few deep, wavering breaths. “Are you even sorry for what you’ve done? Don’t you feel any guilt for robbing Pinkie of the rest of her life? Don’t you feel guilt in trying to kill us all? Please, tell me. Please, make me understand.”

“He was desperate,” Mesmer said tonelessly. “Nothing more, nothing less. He wanted to avoid death and obtain his freedom and did so in the most efficient way possible. He obviously only cares about saving innocents when it suits him.”

“Is it true!?” Scalpel screeched. “Is that the only reason? Please, just say something!”

Shetland sighed deeply, tentatively raising his head. “I guess there’s no point denying it.” He cleared his throat and straightened his posture. “I’m the one who murdered Pinkie Pie.”

“He admitted it!” Button cried, waving a hoof towards Shetland erratically. “He’s a cold-blooded killer!”

Scalpel went limp, her eyelids fluttering. Her once dazzling orange and yellow mane hung lifelessly as profusive sweating had dampened it. “So you admit it,” she said sadly. “Are you at least sorry?”

Shetland furrowed his brow, taking long, deliberate breaths amidst the silence. “I am not sure.”

There was a flurry of gasps. Even Mesmer’s jaw widened a little at Shetland’s remark. I could barely believe my ears. Was this what he wanted? I wondered. 

Inky emitted an animalistic growl. “How can you say that!? Are you truly a monster!?”

“I say again that I’m not sure,” Shetland declared. “If I’m honest, given the same opportunity in the same situation, I’d likely do it again.”

“What madness!” Sanscript exclaimed furiously. “You mean to tell us that you believe you had a right to commit such actions?”

“You’re messed up,” Yoko added glumly. “I don’t even have the words right now.”

Elsie stomped a hoof down for attention. “He’s confessed, so let’s get this over with! I can’t stand the sight of him!”

“Wait,” Dopple said. “I think we should let him speak. Shetland?” She motioned for him to continue.

“Right.” The stallion nodded. “I guess there’s no point in keeping any of it a secret. In fact, it’s best if you know everything. Greyscale, your deconstruction of the murder was almost completely accurate. The one facet you got wrong was assuming that I was the one who invited Pinkie to meet with me at the swimming pool. On the contrary, she was the one who invited me. She made it very clear that she wanted to speak to me alone before we conducted a group meeting. I don’t think she had any plans to go swimming at all. I assume bringing her towel and inflatable ring was just a matter of playing the part in case someone walked in on us. She probably thought it was the least likely place for anyone to go considering the circumstances, but wanted to play it safe.”

I was baffled. I wouldn’t have ever considered that Pinkie would organize the very meet-up that would lead to her doom. “But why? Why would she invite you there?”

“She trusted me completely,” Shetland said matter-of-factly. “She wanted to speak to me personally to discuss certain worries she had, particularly her thoughts about those among us. She had a hunch about two ponies who she deemed particularly worrisome.”

“Then…” Inky trailed off holding a hoof to her mouth. “When she said she had Pinkie sense, it was all just nonsense?”

“Actually,” Shetland continued, “now that these events have come to pass, I’m starting to believe that maybe Pinkie did have a sixth sense after all.”

“Cut the crap!” Copper snapped. “You’re just stalling for time. Why would you even think that if she had no idea you were going to kill her?”

Shetland sighed. “Inky, what was it that Pinkie claimed her Pinkie sense allowed her to do?”

Inky bit her lip. “Well, she said she knew if someone was lying, and she could detect someone’s deepest intentions.”

“I see,” Shetland replied. “In that case, it’s entirely possible that her Pinkie sense was real.”

“How?” Sanscript asked. “You’re not making any sense!”

“Just listen to me,” Shetland said calmly. “You’re all claiming that I killed Pinkie for selfish reasons. The truth is, I killed Pinkie in order to save as many lives as possible.”

“What!?” Elsie cried. “You think we’re going to believe that!?”

“It’s true,” Shetland continued. “When I told everyone that saving as many innocents as possible was my number one priority, I meant it. It’s everything to me. But sometimes, in my line of work, you have to make tough decisions and stick with them, without letting emotions get in the way.

“Imagine a dangerous terrorist is walking down a busy street carrying a bomb in their briefcase. They plan to detonate that bomb in a crowded train station, killing hundreds. Now imagine that this terrorist is surrounded by bodyguards who are keeping watch, ready to strike down anyone who dares approach. Imagine this group have an anti-magic field up to prevent would-be teleporters from appearing at their side or grabbing them with telekinesis. Maybe there’s a chance that the terrorist will detonate the bomb on the busy street if pushed to it. Maybe the bodyguards will start mowing down civilians with powerful magic. Maybe there’s no open space between them and their destination to corner them.

“So you have a team of snipers ready to take them out from afar in a coordinated attack. But since it’s a busy area with many others milling around, there’s a significant chance that an innocent civilian might get caught in the crossfire. So, what do you do? Do you order the shot to be taken while you still can? What could happen? Well, a sniper could miss their first shot, sending a bullet through the head of a pregnant mother chatting to her husband, her brains exploding across the street and other bystanders. Her husband, friends and family left in utter despair at their loss, years of emotional trauma. And the sniper? A life of guilt at having killed someone with everything to live for, and her unborn child. Not to mention the hounds of the media chasing the force and the mountains of paperwork along with it. So, the shot doesn’t get taken.” Shetland frowned gravely. “And twenty minutes later, a bomb goes off, killing ninety-three ponies and severely injuring a further twenty-five.”

Inky gasped. “Wait, I remember learning about that, but it was–”

“A mistake,” Shetland finished. “And not one that I was at fault for. I’ve done everything in my career to prevent such atrocities, but I’m a realist, not an idealist. Sometimes, the death of another can save many from the same fate. That is the truth of this world whether we would like to admit it or not, and that is the creed that I have lived by, making those decisions for the greater good, no matter how much it may scar my soul.

“I don’t believe for a second that Pinkie deserved to die. She was a caring, sweet, innocent mare who cared deeply about the welfare of others. I could tell as much from the words she spoke to me this morning.”


.



“Thanks for coming with me, Shetland. I’m glad I have someone I can trust. I want you to keep this between us unless I say otherwise, just in case. I’m trying to stay optimistic about our situation but I can’t help but be afraid.”



.


“She was far more reserved than the night before. I admit I had judged her to be an air-headed, loud-mouthed joker of sorts, based on her behavior from yesterday. However, this morning she was level-headed and serious. I daresay, behind that naïve exterior she was remarkably intelligent and resolute. She understood the risks of this killing game and wanted to ensure everyone’s safety. It is honestly a tragedy that someone like her should die.”


.



“Everyone’s going to be on edge and someone might get desperate, so we need to keep everyone’s sanity in check and come together as a group. I spent a good deal of time with everyone yesterday and got to work with my Pinkie sense. I think almost everyone is going to be fine, for now, at least. But there’s two of them that really worry me. One of them is willing to do whatever it takes to get out of here and has already decided that’s what’s going to happen even if everyone else has to die. They’re smart, too. A lot smarter than they look. 



“But then there’s someone who scares me even more. I don’t know exactly what to make of them as my sense tingled in a way that it never has, but I think they might be the most dangerous one of us all. There’s something wrong with them, something that keeps playing on my mind. If we don’t stop them soon it might already be too late. I know I might sound crazy, but please, you have to trust me on this.”



.


“Whoever Pinkie was talking about,” Shetland continued, “I have no idea. Perhaps her Pinkie sense had led her to something important, but I guess we’ll never know. At that point we had just entered the swimming area, her chosen meeting place to make it look as casual as possible. I’m guessing it was the perfect place for her to fall back into her carefree persona and go diving off the diving board or floating about in her inflatable ring. She had poured out her true feelings and looked up to me, boundless hope in her eyes. I rested a hoof on her shoulder and she smiled.” Shetland paused for a moment, staring into space. “And then I grabbed her neck and twisted it, snapping it in two. All the while I reminded myself that this was all for the greater good, that my true intent was saving as many lives as possible. I feel no pride in having to kill her, and I knew I would have to take the image of her final, dismayed expression to my grave. But it was the choice I made.”

“That is so sad,” Maribelle uttered, “but I don’t understand what you mean. How would killing Pinkie save any of us?”

“It wouldn’t,” Shetland replied coldly. “You’re not the ones who would be saved. The rules state that in order to escape you must commit a murder without being found out. My plan, which has regrettably failed, was to prevent this from happening to anyone else ever again. You see, I’ve seen cases like this, cruel masterminds who lock others up or involve them in sick games of torture and murder. Some do it out of a warped sense of justice or out of revenge against those who have scorned them, while some do it out of a perverse desire to simply watch others suffer, to see what happens when ordinary citizens are pushed to their limit. From what I can tell, Monobunny – or whoever masterminded this sick game – is in the latter category. And there’s something about these types of criminals that always rings true – they never stop at one. They keep going on and on, finding new victims and rigging new games, all in the name of fun. The only way to stop them is to kill them or incarcerate them. That’s what I intended to do. I am the most qualified and most capable law enforcer to take down such a powerful psychopath, and so that’s why I killed Pinkie. By sacrificing all of you here, I could prevent countless murders that would eventually follow, much like the snipers who end up taking the lives of the few to save the many.”

Shetland’s words left everyone stunned. I thought back to my conversation with Dopple yesterday in the MonoMart. “I think this whole scenario – this killing game – has happened before. And if he has his way, it’ll happen again.” Now it all made sense. 

“Hold on,” Dish Panner said. “For all you knew there could be a way out of here. You really gave up that easily and resorted to murder the first chance you got? I find it hard to believe you did that out of kindness.”

“There’s no way out of here,” Shetland replied solemnly. “This place is far beyond anything I’ve ever witnessed. Most criminal game-masters are simply delusional, locking victims up in derelict buildings, abandoned ruins, or makeshift shacks out in the middle of nowhere. It’s usually because they lack funds and horsepower, meaning there are occasional oversights in their plans. But whoever masterminded this scenario is obviously powerful beyond compare. The painstaking details, the elaborate setup, the talking freakshow bunny… Not to mention being spied on by cameras twenty-four-seven and reminded that all escape attempts are welcome. The exit door is made with thick iron, the walls of the dome are made of concrete and the mechanisms are faultless. Even these magical barriers that surround us are beyond our capabilities. I took some time in the middle of the night to fly around and check for escape hatches, air vents, or weak spots. I found nothing. This place is an impregnable tomb. There’s no escape here.”

The room fell silent at that remark, many exchanging worried glances. Button began shaking his head erratically and mumbling to himself. Yoko had crouched low to the floor and appeared to be meditating, albeit with a pained expression. Maribelle started praying silently.

“But wait!” Elsie cried suddenly. “How do you even know that!? The way out of here is simple; we just need to overpower Monobunny and torture the truth out of him!”

“That won’t work either,” Shetland said.

“How can you be sure!?” Elsie retorted. “All you’ve done is sit there and assume the worst! Like I’ve said since the beginning, let’s toast that son of a bitch and get back our freedom! I know some great spells that’ll light him up like a Hearth’s Warming tree!”

“You’re not listening!” Shetland yelled. “Look, I’ve seen what he’s capable of. Trust me, you’ve got no chance against him.”

“What did you say?” Mesmer interjected. “You said you’ve seen what he’s capable of. What have you witnessed that the rest of us haven’t?”

Shetland took a deep breath. “I suppose there’s no use in hiding it now, especially since I’m about to be killed.” He wiped at his forehead nervously. “I’m guessing you’ve all noticed the empty spot in the stage. Most of you will probably have considered this to be connected to the extra room that none of us can access. There was also an extra set of shackles in the room we were originally kept in when we woke up, which didn’t belong to anyone here. I may have tried to convince you earlier that there was a sixteenth participant hiding in the shadows, facilitating this killing game. In truth, there was a sixteenth participant – Cube Rick, the Ultimate Film Director.

“I originally awoke in the shackled room while the rest of you were still out cold and saw a middle-aged, beige-colored, grey-maned unicorn stallion trying to break down the walls with his magic. I was just barely conscious and couldn’t make it all out clearly, but I remember him stating his name and demanding to be let out. Whatever drugs had been used to keep us sleeping apparently had little effect on him.”

“It’s true!” Monobunny piped up. “That foul-mouthed director spent his life scratching away at film scripts until the early hours of the morning hopped up on caffeine, and maybe even a little something else. His body must have been so chock-full of stimulants that it overpowered the doping solution! Admittedly, I hadn’t planned for such an issue.”

“Rather than try waking anyone else up he was more worried about his own safety. He must have gotten out of his shackles with a spell and was stomping and swearing, shouting about how famous a film director he was, not that I’ve heard of him myself. His horn lit up and he started etching a fiery line in the stone wall like a blowtorch. That was when Monobunny appeared and reprimanded him, telling him that such magic was banned, and that if he continued, he’d be punished.

“As you’ve probably guessed, Cube Rick didn’t listen. He tossed Monobunny across the room like a ragdoll. At that point Monobunny leapt up and charged at Rick with immense speed, landing a blow on his foreleg, snapping it like a twig. Rick howled in pain and Monobunny threatened him, saying if he didn’t stop and listen he’d have to be punished even more severely. Rick spat in his face and uttered some more obscenities, charging a spell with his horn and firing a flaming blast at Monobunny’s face. It exploded on impact but left no mark. That’s when I saw Monobunny’s left eye shine an even brighter red, and out shot what appeared to be a laser beam.

“I don’t remember much else as my vision was blurry and I was terrified by what I was seeing, but I remember the sound of a meaty thud and Cube Rick clutching at his shoulder, nothing but a bloodied stump in place of his leg and blood spilling across the floor. Even this didn’t deter Rick and I heard the sound of another spell being charged as he yelled, then in an instant there was another flash, and Rick’s lifeless head rolled across the floor.

“I clenched my eyes shut, hoping that it was all just a dream. It was then that Monobunny must have noticed I was awake. He told me I shouldn’t have seen that but wouldn’t punish me provided I kept quiet about it. A few seconds later and I felt a jolt in my neck. That’s the last thing I remember before waking up with the rest of you. By that time, whatever had remained of Cube Rick had been cleaned up. That was when I realized that it had all really happened, so I didn’t speak of it just as Monobunny had said. I also did my best to stop anyone else from mounting an attack on him, otherwise the same might happen again and send everyone into a panic.” He looked at Elsie. “You would’ve gotten yourself killed if I hadn’t stopped you.”

The unicorn mare shuddered, looking anxiously up at Monobunny, who simply waved back in a jovial fashion. 

“It really was a shame, I have to say. I desperately wanted Ricky the Cube to take part in this killing game, but he was too rebellious and volatile. I would’ve been willing to leave him with one amputated limb, provided he pretend it was caused before his kidnapping. But when he still kept attacking me after I sliced off one of his legs I knew I had no choice but to remove him from the game. It was a real pain in the rear, too! Time wasted, blood cleaning, body disposal, scorch mark removal, and there wasn’t anyone available to take his place! The show was due to start and I hate having to delay it! But fifteen participants isn’t so bad after all. This first trial has been quite the triumph, if you ask me!”

My heart sank. Any hope that the unoccupied room held some kind of clue was gone, and now we could plainly see just how helpless we all were. If even a powerful unicorn couldn’t overpower Monobunny, how could we stop him? And if Shetland’s talk of his inspection of the dome was true, how could we possibly force our way out? 

“So,” Yoko muttered forlornly. “We’re sitting ducks in here. Monobunny could kill any one of us with ease.” He shook his head. “I understand what you’re saying, Shetland, but I still disagree with your logic. If you were captured before, it could happen again. What makes you think you’d have any hope of stopping him even if you did make it to the outside?”

“I don’t know what chance I’d have,” Shetland replied, “but it would be better than anyone else here. I suppose at this point I have only one thing to ask of you all. Please, someone here, if you have connections on the outside, some way of stopping this wretched killing game from ever happening again, I beg of you, do everything you can to commit the perfect murder. For everyone’s sake, you must!”

“What!?” Copper cried, aghast. “Don’t listen to him, anyone! We can’t give up hope just yet!”

“Hope?” Shetland scoffed. “What hope is there? That someone will find us? We don’t even know where we are!” He sighed. “Now I truly regret choosing Pinkie as my victim, even if it was the most convenient option at the time. During her outburst yesterday evening she spoke of having friends in high places, friends who had the power to save us. I don’t think she was lying to us, and while I don’t believe she could have committed murder, maybe after seeing someone else die and hearing my testimony she would’ve realized what was necessary and escaped from this place!”

“That’s crazy!” Inky cut in with. “Pinkie wouldn’t kill anyone!”

“You don’t know that,” Shetland argued. “Anyone can be pushed to commit murder given the right circumstances and mindset. It’s equine nature! Another murder will happen in this place, I guarantee it!”

“My, my, this is really getting heated,” Monobunny said, twirling his gavel. “But that’s enough chit-chat! I don’t think there’s anything else that needs to be discussed in this trial. Any more and we’ll just be going in circles!”

“Yeah,” Yoko said in agreement. “I’m sick of the sight of this self-righteous prick, anyhow.”

“Yoko!” Maribelle exclaimed. “I know he murdered Pinkie Pie, but he did so for the right reasons! I do not believe he deserves to die!”

“Whatever,” Yoko said with a shrug. “I have my view, you have yours. It’s not like that’ll change anything.”

“Well then, without further ado, let’s activate the voting wheels!”

The circular spots that everyone was stood on quickly faded to a deep black, momentarily convincing me that a hole had suddenly opened up beneath me. Then, alongside a faint, cheesy disco track that began to play, matching the spotlights above as they pulsed and swiveled to the beat, each circle began to light up with neon blue images. Looking down, I could see a crude representation of myself staring back at me, similar to the etched, pixelated profile pictures that adorned each of our rooms. On either side of my face were two large arrows pointing away from me in either direction, and just below was my name.

“As is procedure during voting time, everyone’s voting dial is set to themselves by default. But you can change that! Simply press down on the arrows to scroll through a list of every participant, both living and deceased! On my word a one-minute timer will start, and once the timer reaches zero, your vote will be locked in! The participant who receives the most votes will officially be chosen by the entirety of the group as the culprit. Should this majority vote be correct, the killer will be executed and the game will continue! Should the vote be incorrect, the killer will have their freedom and the rest of you shall perish! If, by chance, the majority vote is split evenly among two or more participants, everyone will die! Make sure you choose wisely!”

As Monobunny finished speaking a digital timer reading ’60.00’ lit up beneath me. Looking around, I could see that the same was true for everyone else. Then, with a quick flash of red from the display, the timer began to tick down.

“Everyone!” Shetland called out. “This is your chance! If you wish to stop the mastermind and prevent the unnecessary death of others, don’t vote for me! What do you think Pinkie would want? For revenge against me, or for the saving of innocents!? Do the right thing! If you all vote for Pinkie that should avoid any chance of equal voting numbers!”

I could understand Shetland’s reasoning. He truly was doing what he thought was right, what he believed could save lives. But still, I wasn’t going to throw my life away on a false promise. I quickly tapped at the arrow on my right and brought up Shetland’s name and face, the timer at just under forty seconds. 

“Do you truly wish for more killings to occur!?” Shetland bellowed. “I am a stallion of my word! As soon as I leave this place, I will spend every waking moment doing everything I can to put a stop to this!”

“Oh, shut up!” Elsie cried angrily. “I don’t want to listen to another word!”

“Right,” Yoko said in agreement. “You’ve made your bed, now lie in it.”

“My apologies,” Maribelle said with a bow. “I don’t doubt your sincerity, Officer Yard, but I have little faith in your abilities. The mastermind would surely do everything they could to stop you.”

Shetland grew jittery, his eyes flitting about in a panic. The timer had now reached twenty seconds. “Doctor!” he cried. “You believe me, don’t you?”

Scalpel didn’t reply, her eyes closed and tears dribbling down her cheeks.

“Anyone!? Please!” 

Ten seconds.

Shetland clenched his teeth together, bracing himself for the inevitable. All that was left was to watch the last few seconds tick down to zero. A horn blared as time ran out, the arrows immediately disappearing. 

“Well, the votes are in,” Monobunny said. “And to nobody’s surprise, the majority vote was for the Ultimate Police Officer, Shetland Yard! But did you successfully find the culprit, or were you all terribly wrong?” A drum roll began to play, picking up speed until the loud crashing of a cymbal. “You were all… correct! Congratulations!”

Suddenly, streams of silver and gold confetti began floating down inside each chamber alongside loud, cheery fanfare and the same whoops and hollers that had accompanied our entrance. But our success was hardly worth celebration. All we had done was sentence someone to death. We were all still trapped here. The cacophony ended abruptly, leaving us all in near silence, just the rustling of the confetti as the final pieces fell at our hooves. 

“So,” Shetland said quietly, all his confidence and ferocity drained. “This is how it ends. I always knew there was a chance of dying on the line of duty but I never imagined this. You know, I’ve taken lives before. Not because I wanted to, but because I had no other choice. Even when it came to serial killers, hostage takers, ponies and griffons on a rampage, I did everything I could to keep them alive. The goal was to subdue them, not kill them. But it didn’t always go that way.

“I remember the first time I ever got blood on my hooves. I’d only been with the force for two years when my partner and I were attacked by a gang of griffons. Seems they took to taking down the police like sport. They took us by surprise as we were flying over the city streets on routine lookout duty. My partner suffered two gunshot wounds to the chest, puncturing both of his lungs. He fell out of the sky and died before he hit the ground.”

“How awful,” Maribelle said sadly. “I had no idea such things happened.”

“I took cover on a nearby roof, but being griffons they were able to quickly swoop up and surround me. If I didn’t take action they would kill me, so I did what I could, avoiding their shots and returning fire. Not being a unicorn I had to use a shoulder-mounted rifle with a mouthpiece trigger. I’d had experience on the range, but against these targets my accuracy was off. Two I managed to catch in the wings, forcing them to land. I managed to evade and tackle them to the ground, disarming them. One I cuffed easily while the other was stronger and proved more difficult, so I was forced to break his forelegs and leave him wailing in agony.

“There was a third gang member, the one I shot first, who took a bullet straight through the neck and dropped like a rock. But instead of dying in an instant like my partner, he bled out on the pavement below, choking on his own blood. My only injury was some light bruising. 

“I don’t remember their names or who they were, just that the force managed to save several business owners who had been threatened and coerced by them. As far as I’m concerned, I had done everything I could to rid evil from the world. Looking back, I have no regrets for those that I’ve killed. They were blights upon the world. But now…” Shetland trailed off, shaking his head. “I’ve killed someone who truly didn’t deserve it. I convinced myself that Pinkie was no different from the mare trapped in the crossfire. But that’s not right. I planned her murder and carried it out with my own hooves. Maybe I really do deserve death.”

“I don’t think so!” Inky cried, taking everyone by surprise. “You’re right, Pinkie didn’t deserve to die, and I hate you for what you’ve done! But I don’t know if you deserve to die, not when you believed you were doing the right thing.” Inky looked around at all of us “Did we do the right thing? I still voted for Shetland, but that’s because I didn’t want to die. What if Shetland really could have stopped this from ever happening again?”

“Who can tell?” Monobunny cut in with. “Maybe he could’ve stopped me, maybe he couldn’t. Life comes with all kinds of ‘what ifs.’ Best not to think about it and look forward! After all, the game’s not over yet!”

“I wonder,” Shetland said, “what Pinkie would say if she was still here. Somehow, I don’t think she’d forgive me. Not that I’d blame her. You know, right now, more than anything, I wish I could talk with her one last time.” He took a deep breath. “Okay Monobunny, I’m ready. Do your worst.”

“My, my! So eager to kick the bucket! Let’s get ready for thrills, chills and spills!”

Suddenly, Scalpel sprang up, looking to Shetland with longing eyes. “Wait! I just wanted–”

“Goodbye, Doctor,” Shetland uttered, the ground opening up beneath him. As he fell out of sight the ground closed back over, leaving nothing but a few scraps of confetti and his face etched into the floor’s display. 

“Where did he go!?” Reph cried. “D-d-does that mean underneath this stage is a pit of death!?”

“I don’t hear any screams,” Dish Panner said, her ear to the floor. “What’s happened to him?”

“Oh, he’s still alive right now… but his execution is coming right up! Don’t worry, you’ll all get to see it in full, high-resolution glory!”

A series of holes began to open up in front of every participant, a set of monitors rising up on pistons, each screen displaying silent static. Then after a few seconds the screen flickered and I could see Shetland stood in the middle of what looked to be a prison yard, rubbing his eyes. The image changed to another camera view, this time from higher up, peering down on Shetland from a lookout tower, vast walls of concrete surrounding him and lines of barbed wire stretching from wall to wall, meshed like a giant spiderweb, preventing him from taking to the skies. A siren began to sound and Shetland jumped to attention, spotlights homing in on his position. The words ‘Ultimate Police Officer Shetland Yard in Prison Break’ appeared. 

Inky made a retching sound. “I don’t wanna watch this.”

The image switched again, looking out towards the exterior of an imposing, charcoal-colored prison with steel blue entrance doors. The doors flung open and out poured a hoard of metallic ponies dressed in orange jumpsuits, each with one glowing red eye reminiscent of Monobunny. They ran out at great speed, quickly forming a circle around Shetland and pacing around him with eerie synchronicity.

“Are they robots!?” Button cried, gawping. 

Shetland remained in the center, switching stances to try and keep track of the crowd of metal stallions who blocked his path. I could hardly believe what I was seeing; it looked like a mere performance, a fictional show put on with the help of special effects. I wondered if maybe – just maybe – Shetland was okay, that this was all an act. But that thought lasted for just a second before I watched as Shetland was leapt upon from behind by one of the metal prisoners, its teeth sinking into his shoulder.

Shetland let out a scream and bucked the attacker away from him, the metal beast landing on all fours effortlessly and rejoining the circling crowd. Shetland clutched his shoulder, blood trickling down his leg. He was leapt at again by another, but this time he was ready, spinning around and striking its head his fore-hoof and kicking it aside with tremendous force, sending it tumbling into its brethren, knocking several of them down.

Once that was done, Shetland was surrounded, the entire trove of beasts charging towards him with an ear-splitting battle cry. Shetland flew into a cyclone of attacks, kicking and throwing everything that came his way, bellowing with rage. His speed, strength and agility were incredible, dodging blows from the onslaught and counterattacking, sending his opponents flying away from him. But the stallions were practically unfazed by his attacks, instantly hopping back into the action as soon as they could rise to their hooves. 

Enraged, Shetland grabbed the nearest one and pried open its mandibles, letting out a ferocious cry as he wrenched its jaw clean off and pummeled the inside of its skull. After a flurry of blows the glowing red eye burned out and Shetland tossed the creature to the floor, standing back and breathing heavily. This time the metal stallion didn’t get up, remaining lifeless on the concrete.

“One down!” Shetland roared. “You’ll have to do better than–”

There was a loud bang and Shetland was tossed like a ragdoll, landing on his back. The camera switched to the end of a rifle barrel, a trail of smoke rising from it. The image returned to the previous camera angle, showing Shetland clutching at his neck, gasping for breath, blood pouring from his wound. His lower limbs flailed limply as he tried to get up. He pushed himself towards the outer wall as the metal creatures slowly shuffled towards him.

The camera angle switched again, this time giving a closeup of Shetland as he lay dying on the floor. It was terrible, horrifying and gut-wrenching, the hairs on my back standing on end, but like a puppet on a string I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen. I was enraptured, staring in disbelief at the atrocity before me. 

A stallion approached Shetland and casually grabbed one of his hind legs, twisting in an unnatural way and snapping it in two, pieces of bone protruding from his flesh. Then another did the same to his other hind leg, Shetland wailing in agony. I continued to watch as he was broken piece by piece, his two remaining legs broken in unison by two other stallions, Shetland sobbing and choking. Then he was struck in the chest, the sound of bones crunching as his ribs were cracked, his chest caved in at horrific angles. His wings were pulled at and wrenched into unnatural shapes. He barely looked like a pony anymore.

Yet life still remained in Shetland’s body, his lips quivering and his eyelids fluttering. His midsection rose and fell with his breathing, which now sounded like a rusty squeezebox. The steel door opened once more and the stallions calmly stepped away from his body, shuffling back from whence they came, revealing Shetland’s blood-trails scattered across the ground. I now heard nothing but Shetland’s weak and irregular breathing, his eyes rolling in the back of his head.

“Why didn’t you just kill him!?” Scalpel screamed. “Don’t leave him to suffer like that you monster!”

Almost as if by request, another shot rang out, this time obliterating Shetland’s skull and spraying chunks of grey matter across the wall. Time seemed to stop as I stared at Shetland’s battered corpse for what could have been either a few seconds or an eternity. The monitors faded into blackness and were drawn back into the floor. As they did so, the barriers encasing us dropped, nothing now preventing us from leaving the stage. The trial was over.

“Well, well, wasn’t that fun!?” Monobunny chirped gleefully. “Though if I’m honest, which I always am, I thought he’d put up more of a fight. Never mind! The rest of you are all free to go. Simply head back up the stairs you came from and enjoy the rest of your day. You have five minutes to leave this area or you’ll be punished. The game hasn’t finished yet!”

With that, Monobunny’s stool rose to the ceiling, carrying him with it. The spotlights switched off and he faded into the darkness, waving at us as he went. Only dim lighting leading from the stage to the entrance remained, our red carpet back into the clutches of the killing game. 

Yoko moved first, skulking off without a word with heavy hoof-steps.

“I guess we should go,” Maribelle said quietly, making her way off the stage, Button following closely behind.

“Yeah,” Copper said, sighing deeply. “I think I’m gonna rest for a little while.” She walked towards me and planted a hoof on my shoulder. I was still in shock, unable to process the events that had just played out. “Thanks for sticking up for me back there,” Copper said, smiling weakly. “I could’ve been voted as the killer and we wouldn’t be alive right now.”

I nodded. “Yeah. You’re right.”

We all left the trial room, Scalpel finally moving from her spot after some help from Reph and Inky. The doors closed behind us and we made our way up the long flight of stairs, the exhaustion from the trial making each step feel all the more strenuous. I had to take a quick break halfway up, catching a glimpse of Scalpel as I did so. The unicorn was stuck in a blank, almost inequine stare, her mouth firmly shut. I wanted to know what had caused her to act so hysterical during the trial but I knew it would be unbecoming to simply ask. 

We made it to the top of the stairs to find the dome looking as it always had. Once we had all reached the courtyard the door to the stairwell closed once again, leaving nothing but a stone wall. Yoko was heading into the MonoMart.

“Wait!” Elsie cried. “Don’t you think about taking any weapons!”

“I’m getting something to eat. I’m hungry,” the earth pony replied stoically, walking into the store without looking back. 

“N-not me,” Reph said, clutching his throat. “I think I’ve just lost my appetite for the rest of the week. I’m exhausted.”

“Same here,” Copper added, biting her lip. “I think I might just crash out for a while. I need some alone time right now.”

Mesmer nodded. “That might be best for us all, unless anyone feels they don’t want to be alone. Doctor? Do you need some support?”

Scalpel shook her head. “No. I could do with some rest.”

Mesmer’s eyes narrowed. Finally, he turned around and walked to the hotel entrance. I followed suit, making my way to my room on the second floor with Dopple stopping at her room just behind me. “Greyscale?” she called. In spite of everything that had happened she retained her kind, serious composure. “You did well today. Please don’t dwell too much on Shetland’s passing. There is still hope for us to escape. If you need someone to confide in, I’m all ears.” Giving me a small smile, she unlocked her door with her keycard and stepped inside.

Once in my room I headed straight for the bathroom and turned on the shower, blasting my face with heat to soothe my spinning head. Not so long ago I had been moping in my apartment, waiting for it all to end. I had given up on everything. Now, I was in a fight for survival. Any of us could be killed at any time. There was no escape. If the killer could outsmart us it would spell death for us all. Nobody could be trusted. Every move we made was being watched by a maniacal rabbit with a bloodlust. I had been forced into a sickening display of tragedy and horror, beyond even the realms of fiction that I’d sampled.

My hooves were shaking. My spine was tingling. I started breathing irregularly, adrenaline pumping through my veins. I stepped out of the shower and looked at my face in the mirror, giddy with excitement. My lips were curved into an unsteady grin, my pupils dilating. I began to laugh. 

The buzz of constant danger, the thrill of solving a murder, the camaraderie turned to panic between such a colorful group of mares and stallions, all willing to view me as their equal. It was sensory overload, a feeling I could never have imagined in my dreary and pointless existence. My life in that dingy apartment was over now. My times spent wondering if I should throw in the towel and end my existence had come to a screeching halt. My miracle had come. 

This. 

This game.

It was more than I could have ever hoped for.


.



.



.



Remaining participants: 13



Doctor Lancet Scalpel



Yoko Zuna



Pinkie Pie [DECEASED]



Sanscript



Dish Panner



Shetland Yard [DECEASED]



Button Mash



Cube Rick [DECEASED]



Dopple Ganger



Ink Slinger



Copper Fields



Mesmer



Antonio Rephael



Elsie De Pone



Maribelle Cheval-Gelding



Greyscale

> The Origin of Patience
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

On a weekend in the spring as the blossoms fell in fleeting spirals, a wondrous miracle was occurring. All the months of waiting, every piece of preparation, all for the arrival of a pure, innocent foal, destined to bring happiness to the world.

To the father – Persistence – this birth would give reason to his thirst for knowledge, a vessel within which his teachings and lessons could be passed down throughout the ages. For the truth was knowledge and experience gave rise to truth, thus a bond could be formed that would surpass flesh and time, such that all would be brighter.

To the mother – Serenity – this birth would give reason to her bountiful kindness, such that her child could receive love and affection that which many could only dream of. For kindness is the key to grow a healthy seed, to nourish and enable it to see the world through the eyes of reason and morality. Nothing else could be more precious than the coming of this foal, the path to freedom at its hooves and the support and encouragement to carry any dream to reality. Such was the blessing of new life. 

The child was born without issue, a beautiful unicorn colt with a pearly white coat and wavy black mane. He barely cried for a moment before he was held by his mother, his eyes looking upon the world with innocent wonder. Untainted by the evils of the world was this miracle, an angelic foal destined for all the love and care one could hope for.

Persistence and Serenity shed tears as the child rested happily on his mother’s forelegs, his chest rising and falling with perfect regularity. Few could hope for such contentment.

“What should we call him?” Serenity asked her husband. They had spent months trying to decide upon a name but could never make up their minds. Mercy, Sunshine or Splendor for a filly. Justice, Valor or Candor for a colt. But in that single moment a thought came to Persistence. 

“He spent nine months waiting for this very moment,” the stallion replied. “We couldn’t wait and yet he did so happily. Now that he’s here, everything is right with the world. I think I know the perfect name.”

Patience was a happy foal in his early years, showing an impressive mind and eye for detail. He showed little fear in the face of animals or the wrath of mother nature, instead observing the wild creatures that inhabited his village and peering through the curtains to watch as a thunderstorm barreled through the land. He wanted to know, wanted to learn, even more-so than his parents could provide. “We don’t know everything,” Serenity would say. “Perhaps you’ll find out when you’re older. Can you wait until then?” Patience would nod. He could wait.

There were few things that Patience loved more than story time. Heroes from a fantasy land, animals on a journey, a fable to teach morals, an expression of art and character put onto page. He would sit, he would listen, but before he would drift off to sleep he would ask questions. His thirst for knowledge extended beyond just his own life – he wanted to know all he could. It was truly a challenge and a surprise for his parents to deal with.

“Mother, is the wolf really bad?” he once asked at the age of four. “Are there not wolves in the woods who eat other animals? Are they bad?” 

His mother was taken aback, pondering her child’s reflection on the villain of the story. “I suppose not,” she finally answered. “They try to take care of themselves just as we do. A wolf cannot eat plants or grass – it is just the way they are.”

“But we must be wary of them,” Patience stated astutely. “They could kill us. Is that not bad?”

“Yes, but it is not bad for us to stop them. We must all do our best.”

“Then are the other animals bad?” he asked. “They killed the wolf.”

“They were protecting themselves. If a wolf tried to hurt you I would protect you with all that I had.”

“You would kill a wolf?”

Her son’s innocent question caught her off-guard. “If I had no choice, if I was to save your life, I would do so, yes.”

“And the wolf would not be wrong for trying to eat me?”

“It is only natural for them.”

Patience pondered on this for a while, keeping a hoof wrapped around his mother’s. “Okay,” he finally said. “I understand.”

This was a common occurrence at story time. Often, Serenity and Persistence would find Patience reading through his books himself, staring at a single page, unable to read but remembering the message as he was told, as he was taught.

Ever since he was born, Patience was taught that the world had a creator, a loving deity named Sol who looked upon Equus and nurtured her wonderful creations. Sol was the beginning of everything and everything that happened was under her watch as part of her plan. Everything happened for a reason, and Sol would bless all who stayed right and true with entry into paradise upon their passing, a place of bountiful joy where pain and suffering were naught. Patience desperately wanted to meet Sol but was told he could only meet her once it was his time. And so, he would wait. He was very good at that.

Patience was a well-behaved foal. Rarely would he cry or whine if he didn’t have his way. All he needed was an explanation and the knowledge that his parents loved him, that they were only doing what was best for him. He liked to play with his blocks and build towers or create stories with his collection of stuffed toys. He would give them names, talk to them for hours and go on grand adventures in an imaginary world. They were his friends, of sorts, and while Patience was content with them his mother and father thought it would be best if their son could have a real bond with someone close to his age.

When Patience was five years old he would meet his sister, Mercy, an earth pony filly. “You must take care of your sister,” his father told him. “She’s your responsibility as well as ours.”

“Okay, father,” Patience replied. He knew how it worked at this point – he must protect his family from wolves and other beasts that lurked in the woods. Even if that meant killing them, which was fine, as he had been taught. But he was frightened at this prospect – of protecting others. If he died he would be reborn in paradise but his family wouldn’t be there. He’d either be all alone or have to spend all of his time with strangers. Patience found it difficult to deal with others. He found their ways unnerving. 

For this reason, Patience found school to be somewhat troublesome. Not that he didn’t have academic talent as he was certainly bright, eagerly lapping up the chance to learn about mathematics, language, history, science, and especially geography. He would hear of distant lands, of frozen wastes, scorching deserts, tropical rainforests, windswept valleys and civilizations in the mountains, his attention completely enraptured. The world was a big place with so much to see, and he would often pore over a large hardback picture book from the school library while the other foals went out to play. 

Play was not something Patience understood too well. The other foals would run around, clamber atop climbing frames, skip along hopscotch paths and kick balls to each other. Patience had tried these things – his parents had encouraged him to – but his eyes were either stretched to the horizon or focused on the birds and the insects that inhabited the bushes and trees surrounding the school grounds. 

His teacher was worried. “He is a clever, kind young colt, but I feel as if he isn’t trying his hardest,” she had once explained during a meeting with his parents. “He doesn’t spend much time with the other foals and sometimes he’ll hand in unfinished work even though it’s plain to see he’s capable of more. I do hope you don’t take this the wrong way.”

Serenity and Persistence weren’t troubled, however. They looked down at Patience and smiled. “I’m sure he’s just finding his footing,” Persistence said. “Is there a reason you don’t push yourself? Is it because you’re not being challenged enough?”

Patience had no concept of this idea. “I don’t know.”

“You know you need to put more effort into your work. When you get older you’ll need to get good grades so you can get a good job. You’re smarter than others think.”

Patience thought about this for a moment. He supposed that his father was right, but he had never even considered what the others at his school thought of him. “Okay, father,” he finally said. “I’ll do better.”

“Good.” Persistence turned to his wife who was carrying Mercy. “Maybe we can get him to go to a birthday party, see if he can find a friend. Wouldn’t you like a friend?”

“I suppose.”

“Baby steps,” Serenity said, tapping her husband lightly on the snout. “We don’t want to pressure him too much.”

The teacher smiled, seeing now that Patience was in good hooves.

It wasn’t long before he improved, his schoolwork reaching a level of excellence at the top of his class, but Patience had become uncharacteristically irritable. He would not lash out but would instead brood and distance himself even more from others than he had previously, even his parents. He lacked energy, sometimes going straight to bed once he was brought back from school. Persistence and Serenity took him to the doctor, but there was no easy answer to be found. They changed his diet as per the requirements but Patience remained the same, and he showed no signs of disease.

One night, Serenity decided to discuss this with him after story time. “Is everything alright, Patience? You seem upset by something.”

“I’m okay, mother.” Patience had been remarkably tight-lipped.

“You’re not your usual self, my dear. Your father and I are worried about you. We want you to be happy more than anything, alright? You can tell me anything. Believe me, I won’t get mad no matter what.”

Patience thought for a moment and then responded. “I’m doing better at school now, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are, and your father and I are so very proud of you.”

“But nothing’s gotten better for me,” Patience said tentatively. “I’ve done my very best and nothing’s changed. I thought I might be happier. Will it make me happy eventually?”

Serenity wrapped her hooves around her son, awash with guilt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even consider this would happen. You’re right, you deserve a big reward for doing so well. Would you like to go on a trip somewhere?”

Patience was suddenly very excited. He smiled a true, gleeful smile for the first time in weeks. “I would love to! But I don’t know where to go.”

“Your father and I will work something out. It’ll be a surprise. We won’t be able to go for a while, though. You can hang on for a time, can’t you?”

Patience nodded, beaming from ear to ear. 

A few weeks later the whole family travelled by carriage to a grand museum. There were artefacts of all kinds, skeletons, pieces of obscure rocks used to make vast buildings, weapons, maps, ceramics, pieces of art and parchments detailing stories from centuries ago, transcribed into modern language by scholars. Patience was enthralled exploring this long-forgotten world inside his own head, constructing the land, its citizens, and walking through it, much as he had done while he sat alone, reading his books. It was a magical experience, but he soon craved more. He craved to see a new world as it was in the present, not the past.

“Is there anywhere else we can go?” Patience asked. 

“If you continue to do well in school,” Persistence replied, “we’ll see. But it could be a while. Your mother and I don’t know when we’ll get another chance.”

Patience was fine with waiting, but he was confused about something. “Is doing well at school really important?”

“Well, of course!” Persistence said. 

“Even if I really don’t like it?”

“There are many things in life that we don’t like to do but we have to do them anyway. It’s all about the end goal, and sometimes things can be difficult along the way. Think of it as a test put forward by Sol. The things you want most have to be earned.”

Patience thought he understood, but something didn’t feel right. “I thought you and mother wanted me to be happy more than anything.”

“That’s true.”

“But I’d be happier if I didn’t do this. I’d be happier if I went on trips without having to work hard at school. Think of it as a test, that if you let me do this you can get what you want most.”

Persistence wasn’t sure what to make of this. It could be seen that Patience was being selfish, but he still remained calm and resolute. “If you continue to do well at school, that will make you happier when you’re older. You’ll be able to make something of yourself, and maybe even earn a living travelling the world just like you want. That would make you happy, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes,” Patience said. He thought about this future and all that it entailed. “Could that be Sol’s plan for me?”

“Of course it is,” Persistence replied, hugging his son. “She wants what’s best for all of us.”

Patience was filled with vigor once more, but there was a thought at the back of his mind that he couldn’t quite shake: Once he would meet Sol in paradise the world as he knew it would be out of reach. He could learn as much as he wanted but all that knowledge would become worthless, as if it were now mere fiction that everyone wished to forget, to be cast aside and forgotten. And after that, no matter how much he would wait, no matter how much patience he showed, he could never get that back. 

At the age of eleven Patience would attend secondary school. He struggled to fit in at first, feeling overwhelmed by this new location. There were more students, bigger buildings, and the tests and questions required more effort to succeed at. He failed to find himself any friends, but he was thankful that the teachers paid less mind to this fact than before. 

What set this new school apart and made his life that little bit easier was the expansive library that dwarfed his previous school’s offerings. The history books did less to shy away from the dark, morbid nature of things past, and Patience found himself all the more intrigued, desperately piecing together his knowledge of the world as it stood, the cultures and beings that inhabited it. 


“What’s the point? Hahaha.”


This was a monumental task, one which Patience couldn’t quite comprehend but still strived towards nonetheless. And for the first time he was allowed to bring books from school back home, something which changed the structure of his entire life.

That wasn’t to say Patience shied away from his family. They were still a tight-knit unit – Persistence and Serenity giving both of their children ample attention – and he spent a good deal of time with his sister Mercy. She idolized her brother and he in turn saw himself as her protector. He would read her bedtime stories – the same ones he had grown up with – and discuss his thoughts with her. She was the only one Patience felt he could be truly honest with.

Four months after starting at his new school, Patience was walking home and found himself being blocked by three other colts. “Excuse me,” he said. “Can you let me pass?”

“I don’t think so,” the tallest one said, pushing Patience into the tall grass along the edge of the path. 

Patience didn’t understand what was happening. “Please,” he said weakly. “I need to get home. My dinner will be ready soon.”

The three colts roared with laughter. “What’s the rush?” another said. “We were hoping we could play a game.”

“I don’t know what game it is,” Patience continued, oblivious to his situation, “but I doubt I will have time.”

“Oh, you’ll have time,” the tall one said. “We have a challenge for you.” With that he tore away Patience’s satchel and peered inside. “Any money in here?” he said as he passed it to another. 

“Wait!” Patience cried, growing terrified. “I need that!”

“See, here’s the challenge,” the tall one said, smiling. “If you can take this back from us you can go home.”

Patience reached for his satchel but it was immediately lifted out of his grasp. “Please.”

“You can do better than that, can’t you?” the tall one said. “You’re a unicorn, right? You can just use your magic.”

“But I can’t,” Patience said, tears forming in his eyes. “I don’t know how to do magic. Please, give it back to me.”

Once again, the colts threw back their heads and laughed. “I knew it,” the third one said. “I’ve seen him in class; he won’t even lift a pencil.”

“Is that so?” the tall one said. “Well I guess this game might take longer than I thought. Just lift it with your telekinesis.”

“But I can’t,” Patience said. 

“Really? Well that’s too bad. You’d better learn quickly!”

Patience thought about this for a moment. He remembered what his parents had said, that everything happened for a reason. He had never been all that interested in magic and had never even attempted to cast a spell. His mother had told him he would find his way to it in time, that every unicorn was different, that he was simply meant to learn magic when fate determined it. He considered that this was meant to happen, that this was his time. Sol was merely testing him and he needed to accept the challenge. 

Patience focused on his satchel with all his willpower. He strained the muscles around his horn, trying with all his might to activate his spark, to set his horn aglow with color and pull the satchel from the other colt’s grasp. A minute or so passed and there was nothing. Patience took a series of deep breaths, exhausted from his effort. 

“Oh, come on, try harder!” the tall one said, the others chuckling and inching themselves closer to Patience. “Don’t you want to make it home in time for your dinner?”

Patience tried again. Patience knew he had to overcome this challenge, that this was his time to finally grasp the basics of magic. But once again, no matter what he did, Patience couldn’t manage it.

“This is boring,” the tall one said, tripping Patience up and sending him into the dirt. “You’re not even trying, are you? Guys, maybe you can encourage him.” 

As Patience tried getting up he was knocked to the ground once again by the two other colts. “Please, stop!” he cried, but to no avail.

“Don’t those dumb books you read teach you anything?” one said. 

“Let’s see,” the tall one said, and turned the satchel upside down, spilling its contents. “Nothing interesting in this one,” he said, tossing one of the library books over his shoulder and landing it in a puddle. “Or this one,” he said, throwing another into a hedge. This sent the other two into fits of laughter.

It was then that Patience felt something he had never felt before. In that instant he imagined these colts being torn asunder, burned alive, writhing in agony, their chuckling replaced by blood-curdling screams. He flew into a rage, leaping at the tall one with all his might and landing a blow on his chin. He wanted to see his jaw break, for him to be thrown on his back and pleading for mercy. But Patience was weak, and his attack did little more than anger his enemy.

“How dare you,” the colt said quietly, leering down at Patience and tossing the satchel aside.

Patience grew terribly afraid. “I’m sorry,” he said, backing away. But there was no escape. Before he could even react he felt an immense force against his chest. From there, all he could do was curl into a ball as the three colts struck him again and again. It was a pain Patience had never felt before, had never even conceived possible. He couldn’t understand. Was this his punishment for not passing Sol’s test? Was this what was meant to happen?

Eventually, the barrage stopped. The tall one spat in Patience’s face and whispered in his ear: “Don’t you ever cross me again, little Patience, or I’ll make your life hell.” The three colts walked away, chuckling as they went.

 

His body ached and his head was spinning,

Limply coughing spats of blood.

So Patience di

 


I woke up.



The voice from my dreams remained – just barely a whisper – as my vision slowly returned. 


 


  d as Patience does,



And lay there crying in the mud.



The voice dissipated, leaving only me.

> Double Agent
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I rubbed my eyes, half expecting to gaze upon my old, drab apartment. Instead, I was greeted by my plain but pleasant room of the dome hotel. The events of the last few days came flooding back, the image of Shetland’s twitching body followed by his lifeless, brainless corpse jolting me upright. Then I remembered the rest of it, that we had all decided to rest after the trial. After my shower I had laid down on my bed and eventually fallen asleep. 

But there was something else, I pondered, clutching at remnants of a strange dream. There was a foal – a colt – who went to school, read books and talked with his parents. I could remember something about wolves, something about a being named Sol, a sister, and a scene where the colt was bullied harshly. But above all I remembered the colt’s name.

Patience.

It was all so clear yet hazy and surreal at the same time. It felt less like I was living in a dream-world and more like I was having a story read to me, my visions merely an interpretation of those words. Dreams would often be abstract and make little sense but this one was concise and well put together. The voice from my dream – a soft, wholesome voice that was not my own – explained things in such a remarkable way that I doubted it could have come from my own subconscious. It wasn’t as if the story was familiar to me or I could remember dreaming something similar in the past, and it was completely unrelated to the events of the days gone by. But being a dream, I didn’t think there was much point in looking into it any further. 

There was a knock at the door. “Greyscale?” came the familiar voice of a stallion. “Are you in there? Can you come to the door?”

“Hang on,” I said wearily, tossing back my duvet. Glancing at the digital clock on my desk I could see it was approaching half three in the afternoon. I walked to the door and peered through the peephole. Outside, I could see a blue-coated unicorn standing expectantly and a white-coated mare just behind him, quivering anxiously. Seeing no signs of imminent danger, I drew the door open halfway.

“Oh,” Sanscript said, looking surprised. He scratched at his greyish mane with a guilty expression. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were asleep.”

I reached up to my own mane and realized it was in tatters. “Don’t worry, it’s fine,” I said. I glanced at Dr. Scalpel, who was evidently in a bad way. “What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Depends on what you mean by that,” Sanscript said, laughing meekly. “I can’t exactly say our situation is any better at this point. The Doctor and I merely wanted to thank you for your efforts in the previous trial. I doubted you several times and yet your logic won out. Not only am I impressed, I am also in your debt.” Sanscript smiled and cleared his throat. “If it wasn’t for you, we might all be dead, and Shet–” Sanscript glanced at Scalpel and stopped himself. “W-well, let’s just say that despite what happened, this is for the best. So thank you.”

“I just did what I could,” I answered awkwardly, avoiding their gaze. “Mesmer had it pretty much solved anyway.”

“I suppose,” Sanscript replied, rubbing his chin and frowning, “but I feel he was acting a little too holier than thou. Not to mention, he didn’t know about the razor blades. To be honest, he strikes me as a worrisome case. I can’t say I trust him all that much.”

“Now Sanscript,” Scalpel interjected, shooting him a faint glare. “We spoke about this.”

“Right, yes.” Sanscript waved a hoof. “The idea – as the two of us have discussed – is that all of us learn to have a degree of trust with each other. If we are to work together we must become a singular unit. If we spend every moment looking over our shoulders and acting paranoid, it’ll only make this more difficult.”

I raised an eyebrow. “But… what happened with–”

“We know,” Scalpel said. She sounded confident but was still visibly shaken. “Shetland killed Pinkie Pie. It is a terrible fact but one we must accept. In the end he did so with the belief that he was right, that he could save more lives by doing so. While I was – and still am – horrified by his actions, I don’t think it is my place to judge him. 

“I know what you’re thinking, Greyscale. One murder has already occurred, so what is to stop another from happening? Why should we trust in each other if we’ve already seen what can happen? And the truth is, what will grant us a greater chance of survival? Only by learning to trust each other can we get anywhere. We are forced to live with each other, after all.”

“That’s not to say,” Sanscript butted in, “that we shouldn’t take precautions. Some of us have been discussing what we should do about access to weapons, times we can be left alone, methods of keeping tabs on each other, and so forth. If you think about it, the same approach would be necessary if it were an extended family who were brought here. It’s all about keeping everyone safe and moderating the use of dangerous objects. Once the system is in place and we’re working towards a common goal it should be easy.”

“I see your point,” I said, deciding not to voice my true opinions. This idea made everything seem so simple, so straightforward and without issues. Shetland had come to his decision because he could find no way out, and Monobunny was evidently much more of a threat than any of us had initially assumed. As I saw it, unless there was some massive oversight in the dome’s design or Monobunny’s surveillance systems – which seemed unlikely – I couldn’t see much chance of us ever making it out. If that meant living here for the rest of my life, I would be perfectly happy. But that wouldn’t be the case for anyone else here. 

“You seem a little unsure,” Sanscript said, pulling me from my reverie. “But that is understandable. I think it will take time for everyone. The important thing to remember is that we are all in this together.” He puffed out his chest and smiled. “We’re holding a meeting at six in the dining room and hope to see everyone there.”

“Okay,” I said, shrugging. 

“Good. Now we’ll be off. We still have a couple left to pass on the message to.”

“If I may,” Scalpel said, “I’d like to speak to Greyscale in private for a moment.”

“Oh.” Sanscript looked puzzled. “In that case, I’ll be waiting by the stairwell.” He gave a short bow and began walking away. “I bid you adieu.”

Scalpel kept her eyes on Sanscript until he turned the corner and then brought her focus back to me. “Could we speak inside?”

I was a little hesitant as I opened the door and allowed Scalpel into my room. Not because I thought she was a threat, but because I’d never had anyone come into my living space before. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Scalpel walked straight to my bed and sat down, motioning for me to sit beside her. I did so and was immediately wrapped into a hug, Scalpel’s frail body trembling against mine, tears streaming down her cheeks. I was too shocked to move and simply stared at her – mouth agape – as she clutched to my chest.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped out between sobs. “I’ve been trying to act brave but it’s all too much.”

I tried to respond but faltered. The sensation was all too new, all too overwhelming. I could feel every breath, every quiver in her motion. I could feel her warm tears seeping through my fur. I could feel my own heartbeat pounding like a drum, Scalpel’s left ear to my chest. She can hear my heart, I realized, and the thought was somehow profound and meaningless all at once. Slowly, I brought my forelegs down upon her and returned the embrace. So much in my life that I had missed out on, and now I could finally experience it all – the good, the bad, and everything in between. From trust, to friendship, to affection, anger, jealousy and horror… Not in my wildest dreams could I have ever conceived such a thing. I saw then that no matter what happened, I didn’t want to leave. This place was my home. 

Scalpel straightened herself and took a deep breath. “I didn’t expect to do that,” she said, chuckling nervously. “I just wanted to speak with you about Shetland.”

“Oh,” I replied dumbly. 

“You’re probably wondering why I was so… affected by this turn of events. Not that I don’t think everyone else has suffered horribly, yourself included.”

I had to bite my tongue. “Yeah. I’m still wrapping my head around it.”

“I feel so pathetic having become so weak, especially given my profession. I’ve seen dead bodies before a number of times. Surgeons aren’t miracle workers. Even with scientific progress and magical knowledge, there is only so much that can be done. When we found Pinkie’s body, I barely even flinched. It wasn’t until Shetland…” Scalpel frowned, avoiding my gaze. “I believed in him wholeheartedly, you know.

“We spoke for a while on our first night. I realize now it was only yesterday, but it feels so long ago. I was immediately drawn to his sense of authority. I remember thinking, ‘we’ll be fine so long as he’s with us. We’ll be certain to find a way out.’ He was calm, strong, sensible, and voiced his respect to me for my profession. I don’t want you to misunderstand, of course. I didn’t fall for him like a lovestruck teenager. I felt an unspoken connection, an understanding between us that meant we could work together. We struck a chord so easily, so effortlessly, not something I’m at all used to. I’m seen by my colleagues as an ice queen, all seriousness and precision with no joy or humor. I suppose they’re right to some extent. So when Shetland and I spoke and became fast friends, it was like a revelation.

“He reminded me a lot of my father – strict, but also fair and considerate. He showed genuine interest in me and my life, explaining how he felt we were two sides of the same coin. ‘We both save lives’ he said. ‘Ours is the greatest contribution to society. You have my utmost respect.’ Even now I believe he was being honest. More was said between us, but I don’t want to ramble. Let’s just say we learned a great deal about each other. 

“I got to the dining hall at around half seven and Shetland was already there. We talked for a while until the others began to arrive and he assured me that he had a plan to keep everything under control. Thanks to him I wasn’t worried in the slightest. He said he wanted my help as a kind of second in command to keep the order. It filled me with a newfound confidence, and I was determined to meet his standards. 

“When you accused him during the trial I kind of… snapped. I’d been impressed with you so far for bringing certain information to light, but the moment you said Shetland was guilty I grew furious. I wanted to scold you, to berate you, to insult your intelligence for daring to speak ill of our leader. I have to be honest with you, Greyscale. I thought some terrible things about you. But in the end, you were right, and I was the brainwashed fool. Shetland murdered Pinkie Pie, someone so innocent and well-meaning. It wasn’t the fact that he killed her that destroyed me inside, however. It was the fact that, had he accomplished his goal, the rest of us would have died too. I would have died. He denied your claims so strongly during the trial that even as the evidence piled up there was a part of me that still clung to a last ray of hope. I didn’t want to believe that he could let all of us die, that everything we spoke of was all an act. The only thing I believe he was truly honest about was his dedication to saving others.”

Scalpel sighed deeply, curling her hooves around her chest. “Greyscale, I want you to be completely honest. Do you think we did the right thing? What if he really could have stopped the mastermind? What if that was his only chance? We all voted against him because we didn’t want to die, but should we have sacrificed ourselves for the greater good?” 

I thought for a moment. I realized now that if I said the wrong thing it could lead Scalpel down a spiral of despair. Now that Shetland was gone, she looked to others – to me – as a source of hope. I had to be careful. “He was wrong, Doctor,” I finally said. “No matter how great a police officer he was, his plan had no guarantee. He was overconfident. I think even he realized that his plan was a shambles. I believe he was full of regret, not just because his plan failed but because of what he had done. He wanted desperately to apologize to Pinkie in his final moments, and for his actions he paid the ultimate price. I for one hold nothing against him.” 

Scalpel smiled, a fresh set of tears pouring down her face. “Lancet.”

“Huh?”

“You can call me Lancet,” she said. “I may be a Doctor, but that title means nothing in this place. I shouldn’t receive any extra respect for my profession.”

I stared back blankly. “Lancet.”

Lancet nodded. “There you go. I feel more comfortable being on a first name basis. I think you’re right, by the way. I too hold nothing against him.” She slowly got up from the bed and straightened her mane. “Thank you for that. Really. I needed it more than you know.”

“M-my pleasure,” I stammered, grinning. 

“I’d better get back to Sanscript. He might get the wrong idea otherwise.”


*DING DONG DONG DING*


I jolted upright as I heard that familiar jingle. It can’t be, I thought, staring into Lancet’s fear-stricken eyes. Someone can’t have been killed already?

“Hello, everyone! Monobunny here! Could you all please make your way to the dining area. I have an important announcement to make!”

Lancet sighed sharply. “Thank goodness it’s not a body discovery announcement. But where is his voice even coming from?”

“And I heard that, Copper. So what if I can make the announcement without gathering you together if you can all hear me? I want to make this announcement in person in the dining hall! I have some good news, and I have some bad news. Make your way there on the double or you could be in for punishment!”

Monobunny’s voice dissipated. Lancet had a point. How could we hear him so clearly? There didn’t appear to be any kind of speaker system. But if that’s the case, I wondered, maybe the voice I heard from my dreams was actually just Monobunny. 

“We should go,” Lancet said.

We left my room and soon met up with Copper in the corridor. She was ruffling her wings in distress and didn’t appear well rested in the slightest. “You hear him call me out, too?” she asked. Lancet and I both nodded. “I so much as mutter something under my breath and the freaky rabbit can hear me. I’m starting to doubt just about everything in this place.” Then her eyes sprang open. “Wait a second. Greyscale, did you just have her in your room?”

“Nothing like that,” Lancet interjected as I blushed in silence. “We were just talking about things, that’s all.”

“Right.” Copper shook her head and chuckled. “Of course. I was just teasing, you know.”

The three of us made our way to the dining hall and took our seats as others filed in. Monobunny was already present, standing by the kitchen door. “Howdy! Take a seat!” As expected, everyone did their best to sit as far from him as possible, with the far corner table being completely empty. Lancet, Copper, Sanscript and I sat together. While there was an air of anxiousness and worry among most, Copper had her head buried into her forelegs as she rested on the table, looking deflated. 

“Are you okay?” I whispered.

“Not really,” she mumbled back, her eyes shut tightly. “I’m just exhausted. I don’t know how any of you managed to sleep soundly last night. You must be tougher than you look – you seem pretty perky and upbeat as it happens.”

“I don’t know about that,” I replied. 

“Oh-ho, maybe you did get a special examination from the doctor, then.” Copper smiled wryly.

“No,” I snapped back in a hushed voice. “Nothing happened, okay? I don’t want you starting rumors.”

“It was just a joke,” Copper said dreamily. “Right now, I’d give anything to have something to laugh about." She frowned. “If only Pinkie were still here.”

Within a minute or so, Maribelle, Button, Inky, Elsie, Dish Panner and Reph had arrived. Dopple and Mesmer came in together soon after, Mesmer blanking everyone and sitting opposite Monobunny, avoiding anyone else’s stares and simply focusing on the monochrome rabbit. Dopple stopped for a moment and gave a quick glance in my direction, smiled, and joined Mesmer with a concerned expression on her face. She whispered something in Mesmer’s ear and he shook his head.  

“Just putting out another announcement, could everyone please make their way to the dining hall. This is urgent, and failing to abide by this request may result in punishment!” Monobunny tapped his foot on the floor with annoyance. “Okay, it looks like Yoko isn’t coming.”

“How do you know?” Maribelle asked. She was cradling Button, who looked as peacefully content as a teenager could possibly be while still awake. 

“How do I know? Miss Gelding, have you not noticed the cameras all over this place? Nothing can hide from me in the dome! And right now, Yoko is in the gym refusing to do as I say. Under normal circumstances I might dole out some serious punishment for such behavior, but in this case, Yoko probably isn’t in the best state to fully understand the situation. Now what to do, what to do?” Monobunny began to pace back and forth. “Okay, I’ll allow a group of you to go and retrieve him from the gym. I would suggest that a unicorn with magical abilities strong enough to lift something heavy tags along. If you’re unable to coax him into coming downstairs you may ask me for permission to momentarily ban the levitation of other participants specifically on Yoko and to bring him here safe and sound. I hate altering the rules like this, but I don’t want to kill him needlessly, and if I drag him down here myself I could end up injuring him. So… who wants to do it?”

“I should go,” Lancet spoke up. “I’ve had experience in moving obese patients before.”

“We’ll go too,” Mesmer said, stepping from his seat and walking out the door. Dopple followed after him, looking somewhat anxious. Wait a minute, I thought. Since when were those two so close? Why is Dopple tagging along with a creep like him!? And why is he ordering her around!?

“Oh, okay,” Lancet said, getting to her hooves.

“And remember, don’t start lifting him unless you get permission from me first!”

Lancet nodded. “We’ll be back soon.”

“Okay, honey,” Copper whispered as the trio left the room, shooting me a mischievous grin. “Come back and give me another cuddle soon.”

I turned to Copper in shock. “How do you know she cuddled me!?”

Copper’s eyes flew open and she snorted with laughter, holding her chest tightly to contain herself. “I think you said that a bit too loud.”

Sure enough, the entire room had heard my outburst. “Way to go!” Inky said, winking flirtatiously. Sanscript, on the other hoof, was staring blankly at me with his jaw hanging.

“It’s not what you think!” I cried. 

“Eh, I’m not impressed,” Button said nonchalantly. “I’ve gotten tons of cuddles from Maribelle already.”

“I don’t even like her in that way!” I proclaimed, blood rushing to my cheeks as I noticed everyone was looking at me. “You’d better not say anything to her!”

“Oh, will you all shut up!” Monobunny boomed, pounding on the kitchen door. “What is this? Schoolyard drama? You should probably be much more concerned about your good pal Yoko!”

It wasn’t long before we understood what Monobunny meant. Several minutes later, Yoko crashed through the double doors and came stumbling into the dining hall, bleary-eyed, vomit plastering his chest in brownish blotches. He stumbled to the corner table and collapsed onto the seats, breathing heavily and clutching at his head. Mesmer, Dopple and Lancet were in tow, Lancet quickly taking the seat beside me while the other two stood in the doorway, obviously not wanting to share space with the drunken behemoth they had just collected.

“Yoko, remember what I said,” Dopple instructed, looking concerned. 

“We found him talking to himself,” Mesmer stated dryly. “He was surrounded by spirit bottles, at least three of them empty and others drunk partially. I’d say he almost drank himself to death, but with his incredible body mass I have no idea what it would take.”

“What a mess!” Monobunny exclaimed. “Well, I hope he remembers this because I don’t like repeating myself.”

Yoko’s appearance was bewildering. I’d rarely seen anyone who was visibly drunk, much less someone who was over three times my size. He was swaying back and forth and kept gripping the table, clenching his eyelids in place of blinking and taking sharp, irregular breaths. My biggest shock, however, was that the last trial had taken such a toll on him. Ever since we’d arrived in the dome it didn’t seem as if he’d liked Shetland in the slightest. And just as I was pondering if there had been something underlying between them, something that would make him react in this way, I realized I was forgetting something – or more accurately, someone. I had almost completely forgotten about Pinkie Pie. I bit my lip, cursing myself.

“Now then, since we’re all here together, I have a few announcements to make. Some of which I wasn’t originally planning to talk about, but thanks to a certain someone here, I think it’s best to address them now. Button Mash!”

Button jumped in fear and clutched onto Maribelle. “What!? What did I do!?”

“I heard the crazed ramblings you were spouting earlier,” Monobunny said with an accusatory paw. “In fact, it should be obvious by now that I can hear everything you lot say. So, Button, thanks to you I get to announce some good news, and that is that every single one of your theories was completely wrong.

“First up, Button considered that perhaps the mastermind of this whole operation is among you. That, I can confirm, is totally incorrect.”

“S-so who is the mastermind?” Reph piped up. 

“You think I’m going to tell you that!?” Monobunny balked. “Just shut up and listen to me!”

“Oh, uh… sorry.” Reph sank back into his chair.

“Hmph. At least you’re willing to accept that I’m being honest. Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Your next theory, Button, was that you’re all trapped in some kind of virtual reality simulation or state of magical hypnosis, that what’s happening to you is all just an illusion. I can confirm that this theory is false. Everything that happens here is totally real, one hundred percent! I guess you could argue that’s either good news or bad news depending on your own opinion. The fact is, setting up a virtual world like this for you all to inhabit without bugs or glitches would be far more difficult than just building the dome, the hotel, and all of the surveillance equipment. And honestly, what a terribly dull twist that would be if it turned out that this world was just fake? I for one would be completely underwhelmed by it!

“Your other theory was that everyone here has been implanted with false memories, that maybe you all just think you are who you are. I can confirm that absolutely none of this is true. Not a single one of the participants, either living or dead, have been implanted with false memories or fake personalities. What an awful twist that would be, too! I would hate it! So, I guess that’s good news.”

False memories? I wondered. I hadn’t even thought of that. But…

“Monobunny?” I said, raising a hoof. “You said we’ve not been given false memories, but I had this weird dream, and I kept hearing this voice.”

“Huh?” Monobunny tilted his head.

“It was like the voice was telling me a story about the life of a young colt. They definitely weren’t memories of my own past.”

Monobunny shrugged. “Whatever it was, I don’t know anything about it. Just sounds like a regular dream to me! Now, onto my next point.”

Maybe it was just some weird dream, I said inwardly. At this stage I felt no reason to distrust Monobunny. His obsession with the truth was his defining personality trait, and he made it clear that he considered the truest despair is that which is born from truth. To go back on those words would be a rather pathetic turn for a villain, and something told me that would be the biggest failure Monobunny could conceive in his role as game master. 

“As I’ve said, the mastermind of this killing game is not among you. However, unfortunately for all of you, I can confirm that someone among you has more knowledge about this killing game than they are letting on. That is to say, one of you is a spy!”

“Wait, what!?” Sanscript exclaimed. “What do you mean a spy?”

“It’s just how it sounds,” Monobunny said with a chuckle. “One of you is actually helping out with this killing game. In fact, they’ve met the mastermind personally!”

My heart caught in my throat. I scanned the room. Yoko. Mesmer. Dopple. Sanscript. Lancet. Copper. Maribelle. Button Mash. Dish Panner. Elsie. Reph. Inky. One of them was a spy. One of them was on Monobunny’s side. 

One of them could not be trusted. 

“But that’s ridiculous!” Elsie spat, adjusting her glasses. “Why would you need a spy when you’ve got cameras all over this place? You can track whatever we do!”

“Ah, yes, but that’s not the purpose of the spy, you see. We needed someone on the inside to manipulate the outcome in this killing game somewhat. As entertaining as it is to watch you try and kill each other, as you can imagine, this game can result in some pretty messy scenarios. It makes sense to have someone here to nudge the group in the right direction, to ensure that the viewers get to watch shocking murders and gripping trials! After all–”

“Say what you will!” Lancet bellowed, jolting upright. Her face was tensed into a piercing glare. “This changes nothing! Even if there is one amongst us who is working for you, that doesn’t matter! This place would still be dangerous, and we would still have reason to worry about our company. We can still work together, still learn to trust in one another and still prevent any more murders from occurring!”

“Oh, s-shut it,” Yoko mumbled, his eyes open halfway. He pointed a shaky hoof a Lancet. “You’re talkin’ shit, Doctor.” He laughed sardonically. “It’s all a fuckin’ joke. We got dead ponies, crooked c-cops and now a fuckin’ spy. Trust in each ‘n’ other y’say? You crazy bitch.” He flopped onto the table with an almighty thud. “You c-c-could be the spy for all w-we know. Just go ahead an’ kill me, yeah? Get it over with.”

“Yoko!” Lancet yelled back, on the verge of hyperventilating. “Don’t speak in such a way!”

“Ignore him,” Copper said, putting a hoof on Lancet’s shoulder. “He’s drunk out of his mind right now.”

“But he does make a good point,” Dish Panner commented. “Wouldn’t the spy want to preach all about trust and togetherness so they can stab us in the back?”

“Now see here!” Sanscript interjected, rising to his hooves. “You can’t throw around such accusations!”

“The handsome stallion is right!” Inky piped up excitedly. “We must come together!”

“Precisely,” Sanscript said with a somber nod. Then his eyes darted upwards in confusion. “Wait, what?”

“It could be any one of us,” Reph mused. 

“Gah!” Button clung tightly to Maribelle. “It’s not you, is it, Maribelle? Please tell me it’s not true!”

“Of course not,” Maribelle said, stroking Button’s mane. “But this is quite the predicament.”

“Everyone, stop,” Dopple commanded. Her expression was as calm and collected as always. “Turning this into a witch hunt won’t help anyone. Let’s look at this logically. One of us is working for Monobunny. But why? They’re in the same situation as us. Who would willingly throw themselves into this killing game if they knew the risks? It is obvious to me that whoever the spy is, they are being threatened. You said it yourself, Monobunny, that the spy has met with the mastermind of this game? In that case the spy is surely just another victim who has been forced into this position by the mastermind. In that way, they are on our side as well.

“May I ask, Monobunny, is there anything to prevent the spy from being killed by other participants? You would not step in and prevent such an event?”

“My, my, how strong, logical and inquisitive you are. Your father would be so proud.”

Dopple flinched at Monobunny’s words. “That was not my question.”

“Oh, touched a nerve, did I?” Monobunny erupted with laughter. “But fine, I’ll answer it. As much as I would love the spy to serve me for as long as possible while the killing game takes place, should someone try to kill the spy, I won’t interfere. Otherwise, it’d reveal the spy’s identity, and that would be lame! You could hold a knife to the spy’s throat, ready to slice their neck open and spray claret across the floor, and I wouldn’t lift a paw to save them.”

“Good.” Dopple turned to the rest of us. “The existence of a spy isn’t as much of a threat as we considered. I do believe Doctor Scalpel’s ideals can still be put to use.”

“Thank you,” Lancet replied, bowing her head. “Your words give me hope.”

Dopple smiled back. I had to marvel at her sheer confidence shining brightly from such a gentle form. In that moment I felt as if I were looking upon an angel. 

“How very touching,” Monobunny said, clapping sarcastically. “But you might not feel the same way when I reveal the next piece of information.”

“How so?” Dopple asked, unfazed. 

“You see, now that I have revealed the existence of the spy, I must update you all on a new rule! Should the spy commit a murder they will be absolved of all punishment.”

“Wait,” Copper said, her eyes wide. “You don’t mean…”

“That’s right! If the spy is found guilty of murder during the trial, rather than suffer death by execution, they shall be allowed to go free and leave the dome! Even if they murdered one of you right here, right now, for all to see, blood and guts all over the floor, they would get away with it scot free! That enough of a threat for you?”

The room erupted with gasps and exclamations of shock and confusion. The sudden reaction from all around hit me before Monobunny’s words had begun to sink in, and by that time I had slumped forward mechanically, my mouth agape, my mind racing. I felt a new kind of terror. At the same time I felt a new kind of exhilaration from deep within me, waves of excitement lapping at my growing fear. If the spy were to kill at random, I said to myself, I would more than likely survive. 

“That’s totally unfair!” Inky cried. “You’ve changed the rules! We didn’t know about any of this in the beginning!”

“So you might say, but don’t you remember I told you all that new rules could be added whenever I saw fit?”

“But then anything could become a rule!” Inky protested. “For all we know you could put a rule in place that punishes us for sleeping!”

“No!” Button screamed. “I love my bed! I love my sleep!”

“I don’t think I’d do that,” Monobunny said, shaking his head. “Having a bunch of restless participants would likely result in sloppy murders! If I’m to add a new rule it’ll probably be in the interest of making the killing game more exciting, to spice things up!”

“But the spy could strike at any time without punishment,” Sanscript said worriedly. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Simple!” Elsie spoke up. “If anyone commits murder out in the open we punish them ourselves!”

“Bad idea,” Dopple said. “If anyone were to kill the spy, the following trial would be set to determine the spy’s killer, meaning you’d be up for execution yourself.”

Elsie snorted in annoyance. “Well then we’d just beat the living hell out of them! Just enough so that they barely survive.”

“That is quite harsh,” Maribelle said, sighing. “We should not be so aggressive in this environment – it is what the rabbit wants. And if Dopple is right, the spy is a victim here too.”

The room erupted into a cacophony of arguments, outcries, suggestions, refusals and emotional outbursts. Button had begun sobbing into Maribelle’s coat repeating “I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.” Reph had become unusually agitated, getting down from his seat and pacing back and forth, doing his best not to get too close to anyone else. Dopple was standing her ground, cutting through comments being blasted at her. Yoko was watching the chaos unfold, chuckling to himself and shaking his head. 

All the while, Mesmer sat in silence, observing his surroundings. His gaze fell upon Monobunny, the maniacal rabbit leaning nonchalantly against the wall, clearly loving every second of it. Then in a flash Mesmer turned to me, his eyes glassy and stern. I jolted backwards on instinct, suddenly afraid but unable to look away. We kept eye contact for another few seconds, Mesmer’s expression completely blank and unchanging. I felt as if he were on the cusp of accusing me of being the spy, of outing me in front of everyone and calling upon some crazed but convincing logic that would turn everyone against me! But instead, he slowly got to his hooves, turned away from me and walked slowly and deliberately into the kitchen area, the door creaking as he swung it open. 

“Wait, what’s he doing?” Copper said, shifting away from the kitchen-side end of the dining hall and sidling up against me. “Don’t tell me he hid a knife in there!”

“I don’t…” I gasped, the surrounding noise being drowned out by my subconscious as I became one with Copper’s terror. 

The door opened once more and Mesmer stepped inside, his horn glowing. Telekinesis, I thought. The easiest way to handle a knife. His suspicious actions became obvious to the rest of the group almost immediately. “What are you doing!?” Dish Panner cried.

Mesmer’s face flashed with anger and he raised his weapon and sent it pelting into the floor right beside Monobunny with almighty smash that silenced the group. Only once the small, white, ceramic pieces had stopped tinkling across the floor tiles did I realize what had happened. Mesmer stomped on the remains of the bowl and turned to everyone. 

“That is quite enough!” he roared. “Can’t you see this is exactly what Monobunny wants!? Are we to simply sit here and writhe like startled rats!?” He exhaled sharply. “Yes, our situation is a difficult one, but losing our heads will only make matters worse. So, there is a spy. So, this spy has a set of advantageous rules that apply only to them. Can you not see what this news has done? Rather than the spy being the dangerous one it is everyone else who has become a danger! If we focus on the spy we are forgetting the predicament we are already in. We risk becoming deranged by paranoia to the point where we all become more likely to commit murder! That is the purpose of Monobunny’s announcement. After all…” He turned to Monobunny and glowered down. “You’re just here to make this interesting for the sick bastards who are watching this, correct?”

“I wouldn’t say they’re all sick bastards,” Monobunny replied with a shrug. 

“Then who is watching us?” Mesmer questioned. “Last night you admitted that Pinkie’s friend Applejack was watching, but she can’t be the only one, can she? Who else is there?”

“It’s kind of sad.” Monobunny shook his head and tutted. “Finding out who’s watching you really isn’t going to be much help to any of you. If you want to survive you should start focusing on committing the perfect murder!”

“You’re dodging the question,” Mesmer said, standing his ground. “I want to know how many are watching us.”

“Fine, fine.” Monobunny sighed. “Not that it’ll help any of you. If you must know, you’re being watched by thousands!”

Reph gulped loudly. “Th-thousands!?”

“What a travesty!” Elsie exclaimed. “We are filmed even in our private rooms, and you tell us there are thousands watching us!?”

I instinctively looked to one of the wall-mounted cameras on the other side of the room. I couldn’t quite fathom the thought of being under the watch of so many. Thousands, I repeated to myself. Given the scale of the killing game it could very well have taken thousands to carry everything out from kidnapping to construction, but I couldn’t quite believe that a group so large could all come together for such a common goal. A cult might be able to accumulate such power, but the nature of the killing game felt completely detached from what I knew of historical cult behavior. However, if most of those watching were merely innocent onlookers, it brought on a whole new slew of questions. How was this being broadcast? For what reason? And how was Monobunny so sure that finding out our viewers wouldn’t help us when he previously deliberated so hard on whether to reveal Applejack’s identity? There were too many mysteries to count.

“I see,” Mesmer said softly. For whatever reason he seemed content with Monobunny’s ambiguous answer. 

“I’ve just thought of something,” Inky said, tapping her chin. “Didn’t Pinkie already know there was a spy? Shetland told us, didn’t he, that her Pinkie sense had acted up, and that’s why she sought his help? She was worried that someone here was dangerous.”

“I don’t think we can take her word for it,” Dish Panner said worriedly. “She did end up getting murdered by someone she trusted.”

“Hey!” Inky cried, angrily prodding a hoof into Dish Panner’s chest. “Even he believed her in the end! And I still believe in her! Isn’t it a bit of a coincidence that we only now find out about a spy?”

“This is ridiculous,” Elsie muttered. “Super senses and whatnot.”

“Wait a minute,” Button said. “Shetland said there were two of us she was worried about. If one’s the spy, who’s the other?”

“That’s right.” Inky leapt from her seat and began pacing back and forth, forcefully pushing Reph aside in the process. “If I remember rightly, one of us is willing to do whatever it takes to get out of here, even if everyone else dies. They’d already decided that would happen even yesterday.”

“That’s… surely the spy, right?” Reph asked shakily. 

“I think so,” Inky replied, still pacing. “But that’s strange, isn’t it? Shetland made it sound like Pinkie was more worried about someone else, someone dangerous who she couldn’t quite figure out.”

“Then that’s the spy,” Button said. “Whoever the other one is must just be evil. The spy’s gotta be the most dangerous one, right?”

“Maybe? I don’t know,” Inky said with a sigh. 

“B-but that seems kind of strange,” Reph said anxiously, raising a hoof. “If Pinkie was able to detect someone’s innermost intentions, the spy’s would be the obvious one. The spy would’ve already been planning their escape, and they’d be confident about it! That is, assuming they knew about this rule change.”

“If only Pinkie were here to–”

“Oh, this is nonsense!” Elsie cried, pouting. “We’ll learn nothing by taking advice from some crazy mare who had such amazing psychic powers that she invited her own murderer to a private meeting. It’s pointless even thinking about it! One of us is dangerous? I could’ve told you that from the moment we set hoof in this place! It’s all pretty obvious who we need to be afraid of.” Elsie folded her forelegs and glared in Yoko’s direction. “Getting drunk and barreling about the place? We worry about the weapons in the MonoMart but here we have a walking boulder who could squash us flat at a moment’s notice! If you ask me, I hope he drinks himself to death.”

“Elsie!” Maribelle gasped. “What a horrible thing to say! Can’t you see he is suffering?”

“So am I!” Elsie shot back, thumping down on the table in front of her, knocking her glasses askew. “The difference is, he’s a liability.”

“That’s not fair!”

The room fell silent. I looked around, my pulse quickening as everyone’s eyes turned to me. It took me a few seconds to fully understand that I was the one who had made the outburst. Throughout Elsie’s beratement all I could think of was Yoko’s cheery grin and boisterous attitude followed by his swift descent into despair towards the end of the trial. I gulped, realizing that I was expected to back up my point.

“I… I mean, we’re all potentially dangerous, right?” I stammered. “Just because Yoko is bigger and stronger doesn’t mean he’s the biggest threat. A-and we all saw how upset he was over Pinkie’s death and Shetland’s confession, so, I think maybe him getting drunk is his way of dealing with it.”

“You’re correct,” Mesmer cut in with, promptly taking away the attention from myself. “Everyone here is capable of murder; that’s always been true. It’s also rather ironic that a unicorn should speak of dangerous individuals, as if magic doesn’t hold a vital and deadly advantage, even if levitation is the only skill we are allowed in this place. Surely the only option we have is to saw off our horns. That is, assuming you want to deal with ‘dangerous liabilities.’ Though I hear the pain of losing a horn is beyond excruciating and can result in lasting psychological trauma.”

Elsie shrank in her seat, her face glowing bright red. 

“In the end, that’s the point I want to make,” Mesmer continued. “The only way for us to truly prevent a murder from occurring would be to quite literally cripple each and every one of us.” Mesmer’s expression turned grave. “If everyone here wants that, we’ll do it. I will personally be the first to have my horn removed and my ligaments torn. I should think Doctor Scalpel would have sufficient knowledge to perform such a procedure.”

Lancet squirmed in her seat. “I would refuse to do something so barbaric. It would be horrific.”

“It’d help prevent murder,” Mesmer stated matter-of-factly. “Of course, it would also prevent us from making an escape. And if we want to do that, we need to work together, live together and be vigilant without allowing ourselves to be overcome with paranoia. Dish Panner, you mentioned yesterday that you wanted a knife for cooking.”

The tan-coated mare nodded hesitantly. “Yes, but if it’s too danger–”

“We’ll sort something out,” Mesmer said, cutting her off. “A single kitchen knife should suffice, I assume?”

“Wait a minute,” Copper said. “Are you sure about this? I have to be honest, this is all too suspicious.”

“You’re entitled to that opinion,” Mesmer replied. “You might think that perhaps I am the spy, and that this is all a ruse to introduce an extra element of danger into the hotel. Untrue, of course, but even if I were the spy, it wouldn’t detract from my argument. While we need rules in place, we can’t allow ourselves to be deprived of certain things. Even trust.”

“I really don’t know,” Dish Panner said. “I’m just worried about the spy being able to do anything they want without consequence.”

“From what I can discern,” Mesmer said, “the spy is here to oversee the proceedings of this killing game, or more accurately, manipulate it. They cannot simply do anything they want as they are under the control of Monobunny, the mastermind, or someone else on their side. They are here to produce certain results, likely so that the viewers have – and it makes me sick to consider this – a more interesting viewing experience. For them to simply murder at a moment’s notice would not only put them in danger, it would end the killing game in an instant, and in an anticlimactic fashion. At least, I would imagine that to be the case.”

“Ah, so very astute with your deductions,” Monobunny said, clapping mockingly. “But have you considered you’re making too many assumptions?”

Mesmer smirked. “First of all, you let your tongue slip earlier on.”

“What? How so?”

“I can at least tell that there are multiple individuals involved in the running of this game. You clearly said we needed someone on the inside, not I.”

“Oh, you’ve been listening well!” Monobunny chuckled. 

I glanced at Dopple, remembering our revelation during our first trip to the MonoMart. We’d figured out then that there had to be more than one Monobunny. I considered speaking my mind but felt too pressured to interrupt Mesmer and Monobunny as they quarreled. 

“Also, the fact that you are perpetually honest means the way you phrase your speech can be called into question. There are ways to suggest one truth while actually speaking another. And as such, certain deductions can indeed be made.” Mesmer cleared his throat. “Given the points I have laid out to you all, I think it is highly illogical to bog ourselves down with trying to figure out the identity of the spy. Our efforts are best spent elsewhere.”

“I have to admit,” Sanscript said, furrowing his brow, “Mesmer does make a lot of sense. We mustn’t let ourselves to descend into chaos.”

“Well alright,” Inky said, smiling. “If the headmaster who’s well-endowed with wisdom is up for it, I guess I can step up to the desk.”

“I’m a playwright, Miss Slinger, not a headmaster. Also, the correct phrase is… wait, what?”

“Then my initial proposal is still valid?” Lancet said with a pleased sigh. “I thought it was done for.”

“That’s right,” Maribelle said cheerfully. “I believe in this way of thinking also. I am glad we can rally together like this.”

“Yeah!” Inky chimed in. “So much for trying to break us apart, MonoLoser!”

Monobunny sighed deeply and looked to the floor. “You seem so very hopeful,” he said sadly. He began to plod towards the exit, his feet crunching over the broken ceramic. “Even when faced with news of a spy and stuck in a killing game, you display such levels of hope.” He stopped in place just before the double doors, his back facing us. After a moment’s silence he erupted into fits of high-pitched laughter, banging his paws against the floor and struggling for air as he doubled over, cackling maniacally. The hairs on my spine began to stand on end. 

“What’s so funny!?” Inky blasted. 

Monobunny’s laughter died down into a faint titter and he wiped at his forehead. “So much hope. So much hope! My master…” Monobunny opened the doors and peeked back at us through the glass. “… will be ever so pleased!” 

With that, he scurried out of the room, chuckling down the hallway, leaving the rest of us stunned into silence. It felt as if a sizable amount of that hope had been snuffed out in an instant.
> One of Six
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Greyscale, I’d like to speak with you.”

I raised my head with a start to see a familiar pair of red eyes boring into my own belonging to an ever-serious, maroon-coated unicorn. “Oh, um, okay.”

“In private.” Mesmer motioned towards the kitchen. 

“Uh, really? Just me?”

Mesmer nodded. 

“If you touch him,” Copper growled, eyeing Mesmer suspiciously. “I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“I’m sure you would,” Mesmer replied casually, not even meeting the mare’s gaze. “Now come, Greyscale. This is important.”

Not having any reason to excuse myself I obliged, Copper grabbing hold of my hoof for a moment and nodding with a grave expression. I nodded back and followed Mesmer into the kitchen, noticing along the way that Yoko’s eyes were also following me.

Since Monobunny’s chilling speech and exit we had all chatted amongst ourselves, thankfully in a less fearful manner than when the news of the spy had first dropped. We discussed a new regimen including taking stock of the various weapons and dangerous objects within the MonoMart, as well as considering regular meeting times, meal times, and ways to stay as a group. Many took an active role in these talks and spirits seemed surprisingly high as different ideas were passed around and matters were discussed civilly. Even Elsie remained somewhat reserved and neutral, though when her suggestion to cut off the alcohol supply didn’t go down well she grew slightly more irritable. These topics weren’t a bother to talk about whatsoever, though one subject had almost everyone visibly shaken – escaping the dome. 

During that time I’d spoken very little, merely responding to others’ comments and commending certain ideas. I was happy to let everyone else make the big decisions while I simply went along with the flow. This was the role I was accustomed to and the one I had no intention of breaking from. Though all the while, as we talked, I grew ever distressed that Dopple – the mare who had seemingly befriended me and given me support during the first day – made no effort to converse with me and instead spent most of her time backing up Mesmer. The stallion peeked his head into the dining area and told Dopple that we needed privacy. Then he closed the door and turned to me, his expression as stoic and stony as ever. I clenched my teeth.

“You think I’m the spy.”

Mesmer frowned and shook his head. “Actually, no.”

I exhaled. “Really? Then why call me in here?”

“I must reiterate that while I cannot know for certain that you are not the spy, I do not believe you to be suspicious. Or at least, not yet. While anyone here could potentially be the spy, with a bit of deduction, I’ve cut the list down to just six.”

I snorted. “How could you possibly know that? Gut instinct? You’re some master detective?” My memories of the previous trial resurfaced and I felt a rush of anger through my veins. “You didn’t exactly figure out Pinkie’s murder all on your own.”

“Ah.” Mesmer smiled a little. “There you are again. You’re incredibly meek and apprehensive for the most part but every now and then you spring to life, filled with rage and fervor. It’s rather fascinating.”

I held myself back from retorting. You’ll just be giving him what he wants. “Whatever. But why six? And did you say we shouldn’t be trying to figure out who the spy is, that it would just tear us apart?”

“It would,” Mesmer replied, his face falling back to its normal state. “Or at least, it would for almost everyone. It’s easy to get caught up in one’s own baseless suspicions and imperfect emotions. Can you think of any examples of how this could happen? How someone could become convinced that someone else was the spy?”

“I don’t know,” I said, shrugging. I was feeling immensely uncomfortable and wanted to break out of the room, but Mesmer stood between myself and the door. “I guess you seem suspicious,” I finally said. “You made a big scene and told everyone not to think about the spy’s identity. That’s something the spy might do. Then you took a stand against Monobunny. That could’ve been a trick to make you seem less suspicious.”

“Good,” Mesmer replied. “And?”

“And?” I was confused. I had all but accused him of being the spy and he met my comment with… approval? “Uh, and I suppose Lancet is suspicious after what she told me earlier, as well as Sanscript. I have no idea if he talked her into it, so he could be the spy. And then Dopple…”

Mesmer raised an eyebrow. “What about her?”

“She made a case for why the spy might be a victim.” I sighed. “I guess that’s something the spy might do.”

“So now you see my point?” Mesmer’s tone of voice seemed much more at ease. “We could go down this rabbit hole forever and scrutinize every little action or discussion, convincing ourselves further. And from the sounds of it you find it distressing to think that Dopple might be the spy. Why is that?”

I looked away, knowing that my answer was unbearably stupid. “She seems so nice.”

“Of course, a spy might use this to their benefit, to make themselves seem more trustworthy to others. Then again, the spy might avoid drawing suspicion in other ways. Surely the spy would never get drunk, so maybe the spy did it to avoid suspicion. Surely the spy would never be loud or attention-seeking, so maybe they’ll do exactly that to seem innocent. Maybe you’ve been acting innocent this whole time because you’re the spy. This might explain why you made such an effort during the trial, because you’re putting on a show.” Mesmer looked to the floor. “Yet still this gets us absolutely nowhere. We can keep chasing these inane theories all we want and convince ourselves of someone’s guilt or innocence. My line of thinking is that we view everyone as we would in society: innocent until proven guilty.”

“But by the time they’re guilty, they’ve won,” I pointed out. 

“Not necessarily,” Mesmer replied. “Like I said before, the evidence so far points to it being one of six.”

“Which six?”

Mesmer shook his head. “I can’t possibly tell you that.”

“But why not? If you don’t suspect me of being the spy, what danger is there?”

“Think for a moment,” Mesmer said, pointing to a camera in the corner of the room. “We’re being watched wherever we go. We’re being recorded no matter what we say. Even now, someone is listening. Even if I trusted you one hundred percent, there would still be a risk in divulging my ideas. Can you not think of which six I might be talking about?”

I thought for a moment but came up blank. I had no idea where to even begin. “No,” I said sternly. “What’s to say you’re not making this all up, anyway?”

“You’re free to think whatever you want, but it’d be better if you at least put some thought into what you say.”

“The spy might not even be one of those six for all you know. What then? How will you have helped anyone by pretending to act all clever?”

“If it ever comes to that, I owe you and everyone else an apology.”

I let out a small groan. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“What a pity,” Mesmer said mockingly. 

“Why are you picking on me?” I blared, unable to keep my composure any longer. 

“Like I said during the trial, you’re a bad detective.” Mesmer inched closer. “You make quick, self-assured assumptions, shout others down, get overly emotional and then lose yourself the moment you start getting things wrong. You act timidly, trapped in an aura of supposed self-pity, and then you strike with fire once you realize someone else knows better than you. It’s rather childlike.”

My blood was boiling. My legs tensed as if ready to pounce on him and beat him into a pulp. I wanted him to suffer for such a display of disrespect towards me, to feel my wrath. “You’re one to talk!” I blared, baring my teeth like a wild animal. “You didn’t exactly solve Pinkie’s murder, did you!?”

“Ah yes, your deduction was terribly accurate despite making several errors along the way. And surely we would never have voted for Shetland given the towering evidence that was already stacked against him.”

“You didn’t even know Inky was in the MonoMart at the time.” I puffed out my chest. “Plus, you didn’t speak up about the razor blades. A whole lot of good your investigation was!”

Mesmer took a small step back, sensing my overflowing hostility. “For your information I did ask Inky about her activities that morning and she refused to speak to me. But would she have even said anything during the trial, anyway? As for the razor blades, my attention during the tour was focused more on figuring out a method of escape. Regardless, your presence wouldn’t have changed the result of the trial. We’d have been more than equipped to solve the mystery without you.”

“I’ve had enough,” I muttered, moving around the central worktop towards the door. 

“Wait!” Mesmer cried out, a hint of desperation in his voice. “I have one more question for you.”

I screwed up my face and turned to him. “What?”

“What if Maribelle had been secretly carrying a razor blade and adhesive yesterday? What if she was able to hide them inside her uniform? Would Shetland still have been Pinkie’s killer?”

I stopped in my tracks. “What are you trying to say? We already know Shetland was guilty!”

“Just stop and think for a moment,” Mesmer said calmly. “What if she had been carrying those items. Would that mean she was the murderer?”

Part of me wanted to bolt out of the room without further discussion but Mesmer’s question intrigued me. “Are you saying you think she was actually the killer? Do you disbelieve Monobunny?”

Mesmer shook his head. “No. In fact, Monobunny’s honesty is the only element of this killing game that I refuse to doubt.”

“Then I don’t know what your point is. I suppose if she was found with those items on her she’d be immediately suspicious, and it’s true that Dish Panner was the only one who could’ve seen them.” I thought for a moment, trying to recall the events of the previous day. “You think they were working together? That one of them is the spy?”

Mesmer rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. “How disappointing. I should’ve known you would completely miss my point.” He began walking towards the door, stopping just in front of me. “This discussion is over. Dopple and I need to finalize the group’s plans, anyway.”

“Dopple…” I blurted out unthinkingly.

Mesmer inched the door open and then closed it again, turning his attention back to me. “You are irked by me spending time with Dopple? Is this jealousy I detect?”

My heart fell inside my chest. “No!” I spat. “I just don’t get why she’d want to spend time with someone as arrogant as you!”

“Oh, is that it?” Mesmer’s creepy, infuriating smile returned. “Well, since we’ve already discussed a few hypothetical scenarios, here’s another one: what if Dopple and I were to get romantically involved? Equines are more prone to mating in times of crisis, you know. That’s psychology for you.”

Unable to take any more I barged past Mesmer and out of the room, startling the rest of the group. I could hear Mesmer still talking behind me. “What we spoke of stays between us, Greyscale. Give it some serious thought.” 

“Greyscale?” Lancet asked worriedly.

“What did you do to him!?” Copper shouted, leaping into the air and landing in front of Mesmer. 

I didn’t wait to see what would happen next. I barreled my way out of the dining hall and up the stairs to my room. Who does that asshole think he is!? I said inwardly. He thinks he’s so intelligent, but what kind of genius does nothing but ridicule those they see as beneath them!? I opened my door with my keycard and slammed it behind me, storming to my bed and burying my face in the pillows. I thudded against the bed with an outstretched hoof and swore into the sheets. My head throbbed as I was flooded with rage, the sound of my own heartbeat echoing in my ears. For so much of my life I had never had to deal with such intimidation, such unfriendliness from anyone. I wasn’t used to it, and I certainly couldn’t deal with it in such close proximity. The image of Mesmer’s smug grin resurfaced in my mind and I turned onto my back, breathing in short, sharp grunts. What reason he had for coming after me specifically, I couldn’t tell. I could only conclude that he was bitter and antagonistic, somehow irritated that I had taken the fame for solving the trial. But as I let this theory stew, I then couldn’t figure out why he would share supposedly secret information. If he was merely trying to aggravate me there were easier ways to do it, yet he chose to test my judgement and drill me with questions. As for his comments on Dopple…

There was a knock at the door. “Greyscale? Are you okay?” It was Dopple. 

I stayed silent, unsure what to say. I wanted to be alone, to be away from all the hurt and the horror. But at the same time I felt an obligation to reach out, to be a part of the group. Neither choice felt agreeable.

“Greyscale, please let me see you,” Dopple continued. “We all need to stick together, even if it’s difficult.” She paused for a moment as I lay there in silence. “Do you want me to come back later?” she asked softly. “I can wait.”

I remained still for a moment, expecting to hear her hoof-steps fade away from the door, but there was nothing. I sighed, got up, and walked towards the door. I looked through the peephole and saw Dopple sitting forlornly on the other side. All at once I was reminded of how much care and attention she had shown me, a prospect I had given up on the moment she had stood alongside Mesmer. I wanted to understand why. “Dopple,” I said, sitting with my back to the door, “I think Mesmer hates me. And I… maybe I hate him too. What am I supposed to do?”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Dopple replied without skipping a beat. “Whatever he’s said to you, he probably doesn’t realize how insensitive he’s being.”

That wasn’t the response I had wanted. Hearing Dopple defend Mesmer without proof only made me angrier. “You’re wrong. He knows how hurtful he is and he doesn’t care.”

“If that’s the case, I’ll deal with him myself.” I heard Dopple shuffle behind the door. Getting up and peeking to the other side once more, I saw her sitting against the door, just as I had done. I didn’t know why, but this made my heart ache. “In any case, I don’t want to leave you when you’re feeling outcast. If Mesmer really has crossed the line, I’ll see to it that he learns his lesson. You can count on that.”

I opened the door just a few inches, my body moving before my mind had fully understood what I wanted. Dopple turned around and our eyes met through the gap. She looked genuinely troubled. “What makes you think he’ll listen to you?” I asked.

Dopple smiled. “You should ask him that,” she replied. “The answer might surprise you.”

For whatever reason, Dopple’s answer put me at ease. I sighed, opening the door wider. “What do you think of him?”

“I think he’s an arrogant intellectual with a chip on his shoulder,” she said with a shrug. “But I also think he means well, even if it doesn’t always seem that way.”

“You really think that?” I shook my head slightly. “I just can’t see it.”

“Maybe you’re right and he’s just being a spiteful, malevolent, childish individual. But does that make sense to you?”

I shied away from Dopple’s gaze. Thinking back, Mesmer’s actions and behavior were all over the place, not something I could outright pinpoint. I remembered his words during the trial. “Far from what you might believe I do not dislike you – frankly, I would do well to learn a great deal more about you – but I do believe it is necessary for me to challenge you here.” If he didn’t dislike me as he claimed, it made no sense for him to berate me, and to pick me out amongst a crowd of imperfect equines. It was as if he were testing me, to see how much it would take to set me off and render me nothing but a frothing, rabid dissenter. 

“So, will you let me in?” Dopple approached the gap in the door with pleading eyes. “Or do you wish to stay alone? I’ll respect your decision if you do.”

I stared at the floor, the last of my anger dissipating like vapor. I hated to admit it, but Dopple’s mere presence and close proximity had made me feel calmed and comforted. If pacifying me was her goal all along she had pulled it off in spades. I felt as if deciding to be alone would tear down any and all bridges that I had unwillingly built, and that prospect utterly terrified me. I opened the door fully. “It’s okay, I’m fine. I’d feel better if we just got back to the group.”

“Alright. But if you ever need to get something off your chest just let me know. I should think Mesmer will back off a little.”

“I hope so,” I said, shutting the door behind me. “He was grilling me about my detective skills, started asking me what I’d think if–”

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Dopple said, holding a hoof up to my muzzle. “But I’m sure when you both came out of the kitchen he said to keep your conversation between the two of you.” She eyed me cautiously. “I don’t know what you discussed, but he looked very serious when he said that.”

Dopple’s interruption had startled me. Her demeanor was calm and collected, her tone light and relaxed, but for some reason I felt an undertone of panic. “Uh, well he always looks serious, doesn’t he?” I replied, chalking it up to my imagination. “He might’ve just said that because he didn’t want anyone else to know what he’s like.” As those words left my mouth I began to seriously doubt the validity of that statement. Something wasn’t adding up.

“It was just a thought.” Dopple walked on ahead. “I think it best that we try to get along.”

“Yeah.” I gave up trying to figure it out and followed. “I guess you’re right.”

“Saying that,” Dopple said mirthfully, “there’s a chance Copper might have given Mesmer a black eye.”

I stifled a laugh. “Now wouldn’t that be lucky.”

Upon returning to the dining hall, I was leapt upon by Copper. “Thank goodness you’re back! I made sure to give Lord Snarly a piece of my mind!” She raised a hoof defiantly. 

“Wait, you really did hit him!?” I blurted out, spotting Mesmer in the corner holding a hoof over his forehead. 

“Afraid not. I tried to, really I did, but the good Doctor and Maribelle held me back.” Copper shrugged. “I’ll get him next time.”

“No, really, don’t,” I pleaded. “Just leave it for now, okay?”

Copper looked over my shoulder with suspicion. “I take it the angel of hope convinced you to forgive and forget.” She raised her eyebrows at Dopple. “Anyone with a brain knows that that attitude only takes you so far.”

“You’re making baseless assumptions,” Dopple retorted without a hint of anger in her voice. 

“Fine.” Copper sighed. “It doesn’t feel fair,” she said, furrowing her brow. “I slapped you yesterday for getting worked up about Pinkie, and then turns out you were right, and the killer was stood right next to us. You didn’t deserve that. I feel like I need to make it up to you.”

“Kiss it better!” Inky cried, leaning over the nearest table and beaming from ear to ear. “Come on, someone needs to get some action in this place.”

“Oh quiet, you perv!” Copper chided. 

As Copper and Inky bickered I watched as Dopple approached Mesmer, the stallion listening intently as she spoke to him. He made no verbal reply, merely staring at the ground and nodding. It looked as if Dopple was commanding him like a servant. Dopple quickly came back and whispered into my ear: “There. He should be a bit nicer to you from now on.” My jaw dropped. “So, do you want to help gather supplies from the MonoMart?”










 


“I don’t trust her.”

“Huh?”

Copper removed two tins of kidney beans she’d been eyeing from the shelf and added them to the bag of food we’d collected. “Dopple. She acts way too nice and it bugs me. Doesn’t she seem off to you?”

“I don’t think so. What’s wrong with her being nice?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for her or something,” Copper said, rolling her eyes. 

The two of us were accompanied by Sanscript and Lancet as we rounded up essentials from the MonoMart. With less than two hours to go before closing time, this was our only chance. Dish Panner, Maribelle, Elsie and Button formed one group and were gathering ingredients for the day’s meals, mostly foods that required sufficient cooking knowledge and preparation, of which Dish Panner and Maribelle were adept. Our group was in charge of gathering extras such as bottled drinks, appliances, as well as food items that required little preparation and could provide enough for anyone to snack on. Inky was also present but had wandered off alone, predictably to the alcohol section. Mesmer, Dopple and Reph had opted to stay behind to watch over Yoko (who was in no fit state to go anywhere) and discuss our escape plans.

“I haven’t fallen for her,” I protested, putting down a bottle of lemonade. 

Copper raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “Well, if you say so. She just seems a bit too friendly and self-assured. I don’t know, I get this weird vibe from her. Almost feels like she really enjoys being in this twisted killing game, and that’s messed up.”

My heart fell inside my chest. I kept my gaze buried into a sea of cereal boxes, trying to regain my composure. “W-well, you don’t know if that’s the case. Maybe she’s just really good in a crisis.”

“Or maybe it’s something else.”

“Now please,” Lancet interjected. “You shouldn’t be making such accusations; it is counter-productive. You may not like her, but you must learn to live alongside her.”

“Y-yeah,” I said in agreement. 

“Remember what we discussed beforehand?” Sanscript added. “Being suspicious of others or trying to guess who the spy is won’t get us anywhere.”

Copper stopped in her tracks and looked at the floor. “Do you all actually believe that crap?” She clenched her jaw tightly. “If we’d only just got here, maybe I could understand your naivety. But Pinkie was killed. She’s dead!” Copper furiously hurled a can of chopped tomatoes across the store, narrowly missing Sanscript’s head. “Why shouldn’t we be paranoid!? Why shouldn’t we be a little suspicious!? Two of us are already dead! No, make that three. Cube Rick was killed before we even woke up. And it turns out one of us is working for Monobunny. Did you all forget that!?”

“Copper, calm down,” Lancet said, creeping towards her. 

“I just can’t take it!” Copper cried, making Lancet back away. “I don’t want to die! Anyone could kill me and I wouldn’t have a clue!” She rubbed at her temple furiously. “I just want to go home.” She looked at me sadly. “Greyscale, what do you think?”

“Me?” I stared back blankly.

Copper nodded. “Do you really think we shouldn’t be suspicious of anyone? That we should carry on and believe in each other?” She stepped to within a foot of my face and looked intently into my eyes. “I want you to be completely honest.”

I was shaken, unsure what to say. I couldn’t remember the last time I was ever put on the spot like this, and by someone who could react badly if I said the wrong thing. I wanted to look away but the burning emotion in her eyes told me that would be a mistake. I gulped and tried organizing my thoughts. “W-well, if you think about it, Copper, uh, if we think about it like that, I could be suspicious of you.” Copper’s face grew curious. “I could think that maybe you were saying all this j-just to make yourself look innocent.”

Copper’s cheeks flushed with color. “But that’s not…” she trailed off in thought.

“I could think you were just trying to make Dopple look guilty, which is something the spy might do. A-and you said you wanted to go home. W-well…” I steeled myself as I finished my point. “Someone might think to suspect you of plotting murder so you can go home. So should I be paranoid around you, Copper? Should I keep looking over my shoulder to make sure you’re not about to kill me? Should I always be on edge?”

Copper sat down, her head drooping. She was breathing heavily, looking as if she was struggling to hold back tears. “No,” she said quietly. 

“Worrying all the time is just going to make this harder. Lancet can attest that letting our emotions get the best of us might not be the right thing to do.”

“He’s right,” Lancet said, smiling sadly.

I nodded. “S-so, we can still think about things like, uh, who the spy is, but not emotionally.”

Copper looked confused. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Oh.” I rubbed the back of my neck bashfully. “It’s nothing. Just something Mesmer told me.” There’s supposed to be a way of deducing the spy through evidence, I mulled. Six of us are possible culprits, but how am I supposed to figure out which six he means? “I guess I should say, don’t think about it so much.”

Copper sighed and furrowed her brow. “I guess. We need to work together so we can get out of here, right?”

I nodded confidently, glad that she understood my point. “Right.”

Copper approached me slowly and placed a hoof around my nape. I instinctively shuddered, anticipating that she would pull me into a warm embrace. Her body was sleek and curvaceous, her copper-colored coat smooth and shiny with her wings tucked tightly against her body. It was like gazing upon a masterfully-crafted bronze statue. Just as I was about to return her affections I felt a small breeze tickle my left ear and heard her whisper: “Do you truly believe we can escape this place?” She pulled back her face and our eyes met. Her powerful gaze could have pierced the heavens. “Be honest.”

I opened my mouth but no words came out. There was nothing I could say. I knew I couldn’t lie to her and get away with it. I shook my head slightly.

Copper released me. “Thanks for being truthful,” she whispered. “I hope we’re both wrong, of course. Perhaps you can understand why I feel the way I do. I’ll go along with what you say, but if I die in this place,” Copper said as she grimaced, “I want you to remember what I told you. Can you promise me that?”

I nodded weakly.

“I’m putting my faith in you. Don’t feel bad if you can’t put your faith in me. I wouldn’t.”

“Everyone!?” Elsie called out. She, Dish Panner, Maribelle and Button had approached our group. “Wait a second, where’s that darn zebra?”

“Right here!” Inky replied, raising a bottle of gin with glee. 

Elsie rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

“Everyone,” Maribelle said, Button right at her side. “We should see to the matter at hoof. Dish Panner?”

The tan-coated mare was startled by her mention. “Oh, yes, of course.” She shuffled nervously away. “If everyone can bear witness.”

Everyone began to follow, Lancet stopping me briefly. “That was very courageous of you,” she said, smiling. “You were able to demonstrate to Copper just how dangerous paranoia can be. I think you did a good job.”

“Thanks,” I replied as we walked to the corner of the store. I knew Lancet’s words were meant to compliment me, that she understood I held some grand skill in convincing others to restrain their deterrence to others. But the truth was not so flattering. I merely expressed my own suspicions and then framed them as misguided theories. Everywhere I looked I could see flashes, small fragments of clues that could lead me to the identity of the spy or the next murderer. If I was to adhere to these ideas I would have to accept that I was in tremendous danger, yet I strangely felt little fear for my life. Then there was Mesmer, who had asserted that I shouldn’t entertain such emotionally-based thoughts. I wasn’t sure what to think – with every consideration rousing more suspicion – but I knew that more than anything I wanted to figure out the truth, no matter how far out of reach it seemed. Having someone who cared about me – someone to bond with – was outside the realms of my entire livelihood, almost to the point I considered it an imaginary construct. Twenty-three years of solitude had taken its toll, something I had failed to realize at the time. As much as I welcomed the attention of others, I had no idea what to do with it. I mulled over Copper’s enigmatic response and followed the rest of the group with my head to the ground. 

“We’ll have to be very thorough,” Maribelle said. “We should triple check everything we count.”

“Sure, sure,” Elsie said hurriedly. “We won’t let the same disaster happen a second time. With that in mind, I should think it only natural that Maribelle and Dish Panner remove their clothes while in the MonoMart.”

“What!?” Dish Panner shrieked, clutching at her gown. “I really don’t think that’s necessary. It doesn’t even have any pockets!”

“Be that as it may,” Elsie said, “it’s still an issue. Nobody else is capable of hiding items on themselves but you two, and with razor blades hanging around I don’t see why we should make an exception.”

“Oh, I see!” Inky chimed in. “You’re saying you want everyone to be naked! You know, I’m down for that! Especially Maribelle. Rrrrrawr!”

“It would make me feel rather uncomfortable,” Maribelle said bashfully. “I am always with clothes, you see.”

“Oh, grow up!” Elsie snapped. “You want to talk about uncomfortable, I find it uncomfortable being held against my will in some psycho death trap! Anyway, Dish Panner, what’s your excuse? You and Maribelle both exposed yourselves to each other, what’s wrong with doing the same for everyone else?”

“It’s complicated,” Dish Panner said gruffly. “I’d prefer it if you’d drop the subject.”

Elsie moved in Dish Panner’s way with her nose held in the air. “I think not. You’re taking off your clothes and that’s final!”

Button and Sanscript both gasped in unison. “That’s the line!” Button cried. “From The Lusty Equestrian Maid! It’s like the best part!”

“Indeed,” Sanscript said, smiling to himself. “A pivotal moment showcasing female empowerment, her struggle to find herself leading to a sudden burst in confidence in the shadow of the shackles of the patriarchal society that surrounds her. The memories of her strict and oppressive upbringing and the despair of once believing she had discovered herself, subsequently failing, the coils of despair crushing her faith, all torn down in a flurry of emotion at the acceptance of being equine. Refusing both sexual objectivity and the desecration of individuality, all whilst embracing beauty in its most instinctive form and choosing a path less travelled in search of greater things.”

“Yeah!” Button said, nodding excitedly. “And then she takes off her boring old clothes and she’s super sexy underneath!”

“That too, but I feel you are perhaps simplifying the book’s nuances.” Sanscript glanced around and coughed awkwardly. “Anyway, I am surprised you know of it, Elsie.”

“I know nothing about your filthy porn book!” Elsie screeched. “We’re here to prevent murder!”

“That may be stretching it,” Lancet said. “You cannot assume that their reasons are ultimately so they can hide a murder weapon.”

Maribelle nodded. “That is correct, though I feel my reasons are less important than Dish Panner’s.”

“Oh?” Elsie stepped towards Maribelle. “And why might that be?”

“I made a promise to her,” Maribelle said with a small bow. “I shall never tell you, or anyone else why. All I can say is that we should respect Dish Panner’s wishes.”

“Thank you, Maribelle,” Dish Panner said with a sigh. “I knew I could trust you. I’m sorry everyone, but it’s a very personal matter.”

Elsie rolled her eyes. “How cute, but it doesn’t help us. I say we take a vote. Excluding Maribelle and Dish Panner, who hold an obvious bias, we should vote on whether they should be forced to give up wearing clothes. You obviously know where I stand, so what about everyone else? Remember that this is a life-or-death situation!”

“I vote no!” Button cried. “As much as I would like to see… well, I wouldn’t mind it at all, I guess I like the outfit all the same…” Button trailed off into thought before shaking his head. “Anyway, I don’t think it’s fair to force them!”

“I also vote no,” Lancet said. “We should be trying to foster trust, not painting everyone as a killer.”

“I’m sorry Doctor, but I’m afraid I disagree,” Sanscript said forlornly. “I believe we should all be on equal footing, even if it means an invasion of privacy.”

Lancet looked shocked but refrained from chiding him. “Okay. You have a right to have your say.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Inky put forth. “I really think you girls would do well to get your kit off. You’re missing out, and so is everyone else! Why, we’re just mammals at the end of the day.”

“I vote no,” Copper said determinedly.

“Really?” Elsie said in surprise. “I would’ve figured you’d jump at such a chance.”

“It’s not because I trust them,” Copper replied. “I just don’t think either of them would be stupid enough to do the exact same thing as Shetland. And even if they were, I have a plan. Wait here a moment.” Copper walked off to an adjacent aisle and returned with a plastic tray held in her mouth. She placed it on the floor for all to see. It was a tray of razor blades. “We take these inside and flush the whole lot away. I assume that’s alright with everyone?”

“Fine, whatever,” Elsie said disappointedly before turning her attention to me. “The last vote goes to you. I beg of you, please make the right decision.”

I shrank back instinctively as everyone’s eyes turned on me. “Go on,” Lancet said, nodding with encouragement. 

I frowned. “Right. I need to think about this.” I gently closed my eyes. My first instinct was to block out the distractions. I didn’t want to be put on the spot, to have to make decisions for others at the risk of offending them. Back in the real world (as I began to consider it) I wouldn’t have to deal with the fallout of a tough decision. What I did meant very little and I meant even less to those around me, but within the dome I held an importance. My words held weight. 

I considered both viewpoints. Elsie made for a compelling argument regarding the prevention of murder, and whatever Maribelle and Dish Panner’s personal reasons were they had to be flimsy at best. Even with Copper’s suggestion of disposing of the razor blades it was still possible for something else to be concealed that would allow for a killing to take place, perhaps a sachet of poisonous substance. Disallowing clothes wouldn’t eradicate the possibility of concealment but would certainly make it more difficult for the two mares. On the other hoof, they could become tense and unhinged. Dish Panner at least seemed highly opposed to the idea, almost obsessively so, which in turn could hint at wanting to use it in a murder attempt. 

A spark came to me and I made my decision. “As much as I respect your reasoning, Elsie,” Even if they do use their clothes for murder… “I believe we should allow Maribelle and Dish Panner to remain as they are.” I’ll be able to figure it out… “If we’re to get along,” I’ll just keep it in mind during the next trial… “I don’t think we should impose rules that single anyone out.” I’m sure there will be another murder eventually… “Like Mesmer said, we’d all have to cripple ourselves,” I’ll be able to solve it… “to make sure nobody was capable of murder.” And show Mesmer… “He made a good point, I think.” How wrong he is… “We won’t get out of here with that mindset.” About me. 

“Well put,” Lancet said with a smile. “So that’s the decision, then.”

“Thank you,” Dish Panner said, sighing contentedly. “It would’ve been truly difficult for me otherwise.”

“Okay, sure,” Elsie conceded, exhaling a little. “I guess it wouldn’t do much good anyway. In the end though, it just makes you look more suspicious since you’re the one who wanted a knife.”

We walked towards the far corner of the store, the atmosphere changing drastically. Before us were implements of pain and death, hanging innocently from the racking. All manner of knives, shears, hammers, crowbars and wooden bludgeoning tools loomed over us, mocking us with their pristine metallic gleam, unspoiled grips and smooth varnished veneer. 

“Can we not just hide them away somewhere?” Maribelle asked. “There’s no reason to have them, is there?”

“If only it were that simple,” Copper replied. “We can’t flush these down the pipes and there’s nowhere we can put them that can’t be reached.”

“What about the roof?” Button piped up.

Copper shook her head. “Reph, Dopple and I would still be able to fly up there whenever we want.”

“Indeed,” Sanscript said gravely. “The only other solution would be to take them there, then, well…”

“Cut off our wings, you mean?” Copper finished, staring him down with a disgruntled expression. “Nice idea, but I’m not up for it, and I highly doubt Dopple and Reph would be either.”

“I-I wasn’t actually suggesting it!” Sanscript stammered. 

Lancet sighed. “We can’t destroy them and we can’t prevent access. Taking stock and checking it regularly is the best we can do. We should line them up along the floor so we can get a good look.”

Together, Sanscript, Lancet and Elsie began levitating each item down and splaying them out like an exhibit. The atmosphere was thick and heavy. A thought came into my head – one that I was sure came into many others – that all it would take for anyone to die right here would be for one of the present unicorns to adjust their magic and fling the offending object at force into someone else. I felt like the unicorn trio also understood this, as they moved the potential weapons delicately and meticulously, reining in their abilities to juggle multiple objects. Within a minute or so, everything was set. 

“I don’t like this,” Button whimpered as he looked worriedly over the collection of weapons laid out in front of us. “I keep imagining myself being stabbed and beaten to death with these things!”

“It’s odd,” Sanscript said quietly. “I wouldn’t bat an eyelid if I saw these tools in a more mundane setting, such as the local smith’s, but now they merely fill me with dread.”

“Hopefully we won’t have to worry,” Elsie said, peering down and adjusting her glasses. “We can make sure that nothing goes missing. Alright, I’ll start counting from this side and we’ll all keep track.”

The plan was simple: to avoid the use of dangerous weapons we would form groups and check the amount in the MonoMart as soon as it was open at seven o’ clock, partway through the day and also near to the eight o’ clock closing time, with the group standing watch to make sure that nobody entered before time ended. That way, if something went missing it would be easier to narrow down who could have taken it, and a full sweep of the dome would begin. The only exception to the rule would be the use of a kitchen knife for food preparation, which Dish Panner would be in charge of whilst in use, and then returned to the MonoMart for the following stock check. 

Once everyone had collaborated, the initial count amounted to the following:



8 kitchen knives

7 combat knives

4 pairs of shears

5 lump hammers

3 sledgehammers

5 claw hammers

3 crowbars

6 wooden bats

4 wooden mallets

6 meat cleavers

8 wrenches 

4 hacksaws

10 large screwdrivers

4 coils of rope



“That really is a lot,” Copper noted, biting her lip. “How will we remember it all? We could try and find a notepad or something to write it down.”

“I have a better idea. Wait here,” Elsie said, walking away from the group to another aisle on the opposite side of the store. She returned with a tin of paint marked as ‘Deathly Black MonoPaint’ and a wooden paintbrush in her telekinetic grasp. “By simply painting the item name and number onto the floor tiles we can make the checks as easy as possible.”

“But couldn’t that be washed off?” Dish Panner asked. “I’m not sure exactly what else is here, but maybe with a brush and some chemicals it could be possible.”

“Then we’ll take our time memorizing the numbers!” Elsie snapped. “I don’t know what else we are supposed to do, okay? The paint will take a little while to dry anyway, so let’s get the numbers in our heads.”

“What!?” Inky exclaimed. “You mean we have to sit here and literally watch paint dry? Oh, alright, I’ll be boring for once.”

With no other suggestions we did as such, Elsie writing each number in clear black against the cream-colored floor tiles as Sanscript and Lancet took turns recounting each item as they were slid back into place on the racking. Once all was done, the numbers 8 7 4 5 3 5 3 and 6 4 6 8 4 10 4 could be seen, with an abbreviated description of the item in question just underneath. “If we can at least memorize one of these seven-digit numbers,” Elsie said, “we won’t have issue.”

“Now we just need the kitchen knife for Dish Panner,” Sanscript said, lifting one down and bringing it towards her. The mare flinched and curled her limbs against her. “Oh! I didn’t mean to startle you!” Sanscript said, slowly placing the knife on the floor. “I didn’t think about how frightening it must be to have a knife come at you in mid-air.”

Dish Panner shook her head. “It’s not that. I’ve just now realized what I have to do.” She bent down and picked up the knife between her teeth and stood up straight, facing the rest of us with a grim expression. Then she repositioned the knife, holding it aloft with her right hoof. “I’ve held knives hundreds of times in my life. It’s simply essential when it comes to cooking. It’s always been natural, but now it just makes me feel like a criminal.” She chuckled sardonically. “This place has gotten to me more than I thought.”

“I can bring it if you wish,” Maribelle offered.

“No, that’s fine. I just need to remind myself what this is truly for. I think we all deserve one hell of a feast.” With that, she put the knife back into her mouth and plodded along in front. 

“I’ll take these then,” Copper said, grabbing the tray of razor blades. 

We each did our share in taking everything back, Sanscript and Lancet dealing with the heavier and more cumbersome items. I just now came to realize how hungry I was and became increasingly excited at the prospect of eating another dish from a renowned food critic and accomplished chef, this time without a lack of utensils holding her back. Once we reached the hotel foyer, Mesmer was waiting inside, looking deep in thought. “Ah, there you all are. Greyscale? I… need to speak with you again in private. The rest of you can go on in.”

“Haven’t you bullied him enough?” Copper rasped.

Mesmer tilted his head. “I should think your carrying of deadly choking hazards into the hotel just before a meal is far more suspicious than what goes on between myself and Greyscale.”

“I’m getting rid of them, alright?”

Mesmer tutted. “Maribelle? Button? Perhaps you could accompany her while she does so. Leave your bags here and I’ll take them through in a minute or so.”

Copper scowled. “So you don’t trust me to… oh, fine. Come on, you two.” Copper walked through the door heading left, deliberately nudging into Mesmer along the way. 

Maribelle and Button followed after her diligently while Lancet, Sanscript, Elsie and Dish Panner headed to the dining hall. Inky grabbed a bottle of liquor from her bag and sneakily placed it behind my foreleg, whispering, “if he gives you any trouble, smash this against his head! Either that or you two get drunk until you start making out. Either one’s cool!” before skipping out of the room.

“Dopple asked me to make an apology,” Mesmer said, staring at the floor. 

I wasn’t sure what to say. I couldn’t imagine how Dopple could have successfully admonished someone so bull-headed and commanding. “Okay,” I said dumbly.

Mesmer frowned, levitating the liquor bottle out of my reach and into one of the store bags. He paced for a moment or two, seemingly collecting his thoughts. “I’m sorry if you took what I said the wrong way.”

I made a guttural sigh, deflated by his response. “If you’re not going to properly apologize, don’t bother.”

“Greyscale, I don’t think you understand.”

“And again, you’re just insulting my intelligence.”

Mesmer cringed at my retort. “I didn’t mean to. Look, I don’t want to bullshit you.” He began to creep towards me.

“Then you’re a lot like Monobunny, aren’t you?” I scoffed, strafing left and eyeing the door on my right, the quickest way to the dining hall. “You don’t want to lie. I guess you’re not sorry, are you?”

“No, you’re wrong, I am sorry,” he said with a hint of exasperation. “Just stay here for one moment.” Instead of approaching me any further as I expected, he reached towards the desk by the entrance and tapped the brass service bell twice, which emitted a piercing ding ding.  

“What are you doing?” I balked, suddenly very confused. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Do you remember what this bell is for?” Mesmer asked, straight-faced. “Think back.”

I looked at Mesmer then back at the bell intensely. “Wait,” I said, remembering the tour we’d been given just yesterday. I mentally retraced my steps from the moment we’d woken up in the room and found the answer I was looking for. “It’s to summon Monobunny for assistance.”

“Correct!” came a jovial voice from the opposite corner of the room. None of the doors had been opened yet Monobunny stood in plain view. “Though I have to say, you’re calling me at a rather inopportune time. I have things to do, you know?”

“But you still came,” Mesmer pointed out. “You said it yourself that you’d come here if ever this bell is rung.”

“The bunny giveth and the bunny can taketh away!” Monobunny said, skipping towards us with his paws behind his back. “If I keep getting bothered or I decide the bell is being used improperly I’ll just get rid of it! As far as you should all be concerned that bell is a luxury, not a right, so don’t go thinking you can stand here pressing it over and over like teenagers playing a prank!”

“That wasn’t my intention,” Mesmer replied. “I want to ask you a question.”

“Alright, but remember that I’m only obligated to tell you the truth; I’m not obligated to give you an answer, ‘kay?”

“Understood. Tell me, Monobunny, is there only one spy?”

Monobunny exhaled. “That’s really all you wanted to ask me? Weren’t you listening before? Yes, I can confirm there is only one, single, solitary spy among you. Now, is that it?”

“Not yet.” Mesmer turned to me. “Greyscale, I’d like you to ask him a question. Anything that comes to mind, just ask it.”

“Me?” I said, puzzled. “About what?”

“Anything,” Mesmer repeated. “Anything you’ve been wondering. Anything that doesn’t make sense.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of Mesmer’s remark. I wondered if he’d simply summoned Monobunny to see what I would do, merely out of curiosity. But out of my own curiosity I decided to indulge his request. So much of what Mesmer had done and said was bewildering at best and sent a barrage of mixed messages. I wanted to see where his madness would lead. And so, remembering my strange experience upon waking up earlier – of hearing a voice that seemed detached from my dreams – I asked a question I had been wondering about, something that worried me about my own sense of self.

“Does the spy… know that they’re the spy?”

Monobunny tilted his head. “Say what?”

“I mean, has the spy been the spy since the beginning? They’ve not become the spy or been given special rules as this killing game has progressed, have they?”

Monobunny shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, but yes, the spy has been the spy since the beginning and has known, without a doubt, that they are the spy. Is that all?”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes. That’s all.” 

“Good! Well if that’s all you need from me, scram! And don’t forget, have fun killing!” With that, Monobunny darted from the room.

“That was an odd question,” Mesmer commented. “And it didn’t really get us anywhere. My guess is we need to ask him questions that he’ll either refuse to answer or skirt around, being unwilling or hesitant to tell the truth. That could help us out.”

“Yeah, whatever,” I said, picking up one of the store bags. At this point I could barely get angry at Mesmer’s overly-critical and elitist attitude. I was simply tired of it.

“Still, it wasn’t a question I ever thought to ask. What if you’d stumbled on something big? I suppose there’s no time for hypotheticals. Come on, we should join the others. I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

I stopped in front of the door and gave Mesmer a long, piercing gaze. 

“Is something wrong?” Mesmer asked.

“Back there when you asked Monobunny how many spies there were, he said you would’ve known if you’d listened to him before. Now that I think back, I’m pretty sure he made it clear there was only one spy when the fact was revealed. Do you remember?”

Mesmer smiled. “Of course. I remember it well.”

“So you already knew the answer.” I stared at the floor for a few moments, trying to compile my thoughts. “I don’t know what to make of you.”

“I could say the same to you,” Mesmer replied, raising an eyebrow. “Now, shall we get going?”

I was about to concede when I remembered something from earlier that day, a cryptic comment that Dopple had made. “One last question. What is it with you and Dopple? Why is it that you’ll listen to her?”

This time it was Mesmer who stopped for a moment to think. “Alright, I’ll tell you. But whether or not you believe me is a different story. The truth is, Dopple might just be the greatest asset we have in this place. She is, if I’m right about this, the most intelligent one among all of us. That is why I listen to her.”

“Dopple? The most intelligent one here?” Mesmer was right – I had no idea whether to believe him or not. “But she’s just an impersonator!”

“And you’re just a nobody.” Mesmer nudged past me and into the corridor. “I suppose by that logic you must be an idiot who can’t contribute anything of worth. Is that what you believe?”

“No,” I said quietly as Mesmer walked on ahead. The two of us made it into the dining room just before Copper, Maribelle and Button rejoined us. As I sat there waiting for my meal I drifted off into my own little world. Can the list of potential spies really be boiled down to six? Would Maribelle have been guilty if she’d been carrying the items used for the murder? What question could I ask that would stump Monobunny? Without any answers or even a place to start I gazed across the room at the surly, maroon-coated unicorn on the opposite side and asked myself the most pressing question of all: Just what is it that you’re up to, Mesmer?
> Part of The Family
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This is incredible!” Inky exclaimed, her cheeks filled with food as she dug into her bowl with abandon. She gulped loudly and let out a delighted sigh. “Oh Dishy, you need to teach me how to make this stuff! Tell me, which meal would make for the ultimate aphrodisiac? My best attempt was a big cream pie with a banana sticking out, and that thing did not live up to expectations. Not only did my date run off like he’d seen a ghost but when I ate it later that evening it tasted like sugary sick wrapped in sponge.”

“Afro… dizzy-yak?” Maribelle pondered aloud. “I’ve not heard that word before. Is it an exotic type of dessert?”

“Exotic? Just change one letter and you’d be right on the money!” Inky said with a wink.

“It’s nothing, just ignore her,” Dish Panner said, rolling her eyes. “Inky, it’s not so easy to just teach advanced dishes in the space of a few days. I have spent years in the culinary business perfecting my art and it is a grueling mountain to climb. And even once I reached the summit I regretfully discovered that others had surpassed me, reached untold levels of skill that even I can’t quite reach. But rather than dwell on my imperfection I realized that another avenue had opened up – a quest to find those delicacies which outshine even my own. My detractors may claim that I am a harsh, merciless ice queen who revels in the destruction of those I supposedly deem lesser beings, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. The way I look at it, there’s no point debasing yourself with mediocrity when greatness exists.”

Inky loudly chomped down on a stuffed pepper before swallowing. “Um, a ‘no’ would’ve been fine, but thanks anyway, Dishy! Being a food critic sounds like a cushy job.”

“Quite,” Dish Panner mumbled, leaning back into her chair. Although she hated the nickname ‘Dishy’ and had reminded Inky on multiple occasions not to call her that, the ever-cheery zebra either wasn’t paying attention or was deliberately ignoring her plea. 

I sat in my usual place in the dining room beside Copper, Lancet and Sanscript, while Inky, Maribelle, Button and Dish Panner sat at the opposite table. Dopple, Mesmer, Reph and Elsie were sat together in the corner table (Elsie having moved from her usual spot, presumably to get away from Inky) while Yoko had been given some fresh fruit and escorted to bed, his eyes sagging and his gait wavering. 

The room had been generally quiet as we all tucked into our meals courtesy of Dish Panner and Maribelle, and the consensus among everyone present (except for Dish Panner herself) was that this was some of the best food ever served. I – as well as many others – tore into the food voraciously, almost overwhelmed by the diverse and incredible offerings. Inky’s comment about a supposed ‘aphrodisiac’ wasn’t actually that far off from my experience. Not that I became a raging bull filled with testosterone, but my spirit soared higher with each bite, and I wanted to leap, to run, to embrace my companions and fall asleep at their sides. I could only guess, but I sensed this same feeling spreading to everyone in the room. This meal was a brief respite from the madness of the killing game that we all shared as one. It was a simple but effective distraction. An escape.

“Do you really think we can get out of here?” Button had asked Maribelle earlier, his lip quivering.

“Of course, my little lamb,” Maribelle had said to him, holding him tightly to her chest and kissing his forehead. “Nothing is ever truly impossible. I’m sure we can figure a way out.”

“I hope so. I miss my family. I miss my friends. You’ll stay with me until we get out of here?”

“I will, Button, and even beyond that. I promise you with all my heart.”

I understood then that her words held no weight. Whether we could escape from here or not wasn’t up to her; it was up to Monobunny and the supposed Mastermind. What lay beyond these walls was a complete mystery. There had been a few discussions during the meal about hatching our escape plan. It had been agreed that we should sleep well tonight and get an early start tomorrow, dividing ourselves into groups and checking certain areas of the dome. I had little faith in it, of course. Our best hope was that the dome’s creator had left some glaring flaw, either intentionally or by accident. The former seemed more likely, the idea that this was all merely a trial to test our resolve, to see if we could stick together long enough to find that one, magical clue that would set us all free. That was something I could imagine a sociopathic control freak presiding over, but that concept was ill-fitting when taking into account the killing game rules. If we were merely trapped here and told to escape, that would be one thing, but by sowing the seeds of mistrust and increasing the likelihood that someone could die at any moment (even if they were capable of cracking the code and escaping) meant that if it was to find that one special participant who had the resolve they were looking for, the killing game could end them before they ever had a chance to pass the test. The more I thought about it, the more I came to believe that everything was as it appeared on the surface – murder was the only way to survive. It also lined up with what Monobunny had said before:

“Finding out who’s watching you really isn’t going to be much help to any of you. If you want to survive you should start focusing on committing the perfect murder!”

As I looked around the room, emboldened by the delightfully sweet fruit salad between my lips, I had to wonder what difference it would have made if the killing game wasn’t a threat, if we merely had to live out the rest of our lives together all under one roof. It would’ve meant that Pinkie, Shetland and Cube Rick would still be alive, and we would all learn to live as one big family. Yoko and Shetland would always be arguing, Pinkie and Inky would practically be joined at the hip, constantly laughing and telling jokes. Mesmer would be his old boring self. Button would grow into a stallion. Couples would form and the size of our group would grow. I might even find a partner myself, and there would be all the time in the world to do whatever we wanted. But then again, it might be boring, I pondered as I finished my bowl and went back for seconds.

“Wait, I’ve just realized something!” Dish Panner exclaimed suddenly. “I was supposed to take the knife back before the MonoMart closes. Is there still enough time?”

“Actually, I don’t think there is,” Lancet replied. “We’ve been back for quite a while now.”

“Crap!” Dish Panner said, pressing her hooves against her temple. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Dopple said. “It’s everyone’s responsibility. For now, it should be kept by someone until morning – someone who will return it first thing.”

“Well I’m not doing it!” Dish Panner cried, folding her hooves defiantly. “I don’t want to be held responsible for any murder weapons!”

“Can’t we leave it in the kitchen?” Reph asked.

“No,” Mesmer said forcefully, almost growling as he stared down the pegasus stallion. “Then anyone could access it during the night.”

“Uh, right you are!” Reph squealed, his cheeks flush and his body quivering under Mesmer’s gaze. “I d-didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a suggestion.”

“Right.” Mesmer rolled his eyes. “We need someone to take care of it. I would gladly do the job, of course.”

“No way,” Copper said sternly, standing bolt upright. 

“As expected,” Mesmer said. “I suppose you don’t think I can be trusted?”

“I agree with her,” Elsie called out. “It almost seems like you orchestrated this so you could get hold of the knife! I bet you knew time was running out to return it and kept quiet for that very reason!”

“That’s quite a stretch,” Lancet said. “And surely he’d be the first suspect if anyone was stabbed to death, which I don’t think he’d allow to happen. I think we should trust him.”

Elsie tutted melodramatically. “Oh of course he’d be the first suspect, but he might figure out some wacky way of pinning it on someone, making it look as if someone else stole it from him so they could pin it on him! The way he talks and acts, he’s obviously tricksy.”

“He is!?” Button gasped, staring at Mesmer with wide eyes. “No way… Trixie got a sex change?”

“What!?” Elsie said with a befuddled expression. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. All I’m saying is we need someone trustworthy to keep it.”

“What about Button?” Inky suggested. “I trust the horny little tyke not to stab anyone.”

“No way!” Button screamed. “I don’t want that kind of responsibility! Plus, I’ll probably end up playing with it and cutting myself by accident!” He tapped his chin. “It’s happened before with all sorts of stuff.”

“I dunno, Maribelle then,” Inky said with a shrug. 

“N-no!” Reph cried out. “I, uh… I mean, that just doesn’t sit r-right with me.” He glanced over at Mesmer and then back to his forehooves, visibly trying to hold off his jitters. I’d noted before that Reph was a little jumpy, but for whatever reason his problem was noticeably worse, his wings rattling like tuning forks. Given the day so far though, I surmised that all the stress had crept up on him.

Sanscript cleared his throat. “The question is, who can we trust?”

“Let Greyscale have it.”

The whole room turned to Copper. A noise escaped my lips as I tried to respond.

“What?” Copper asked, frowning. “I’d have been happy with Button keeping it, but I understand it freaking him out. I’m not sure if I trust anyone else yet, maybe not even Greyscale himself.” Copper blushed and averted my gaze. “But out of everyone here, I think he’s probably the best for the job.”

I was too stunned to speak. Suddenly, everyone’s attention turned to me. I could feel their eyes and minds inspecting me, judging me, weighing my worth. Really? I wanted to yell. Why should I be the one to keep hold of it? What’s the point? Why not someone – literally anyone – else?

“Yeah, I get you,” Inky said with a satisfied nod. “Greyscale gets my vote.”

“I also agree,” Lancet said. “I shan’t worry if it’s in his hooves.”

“I suppose that’s okay,” Elsie said. I could barely believe that Elsie – the most outwardly aggressive and accusatory pony here – was supporting the decision. My jaw hung open as she continued. “I can’t say he is completely trustworthy, but he is perhaps the most adequate.”

“Then it’s decided?” Mesmer said. “Any objections?” The room was quiet besides a few shaking heads. “Good, that’s that out of the way.”

“B-but…” I stuttered. “Can I really?” 

“If you truly don’t want to,” Dopple began, “we won’t force you. I agree with Copper, but in all manner of fairness, it should be your decision.” She smiled that warm, comforting smile I had seen several times before. It was enough to turn my joints into jelly.

“O-okay, I can do it,” I said, my heart dancing madly. I had been so used to fading into the background and being forgotten. It took me a moment to process that the others thought so highly of me, or that they even thought of me at all. I felt respected. The sensation was so exhilarating I felt the sudden urge to cry. With all my willpower I held back the tears and simply concentrated on breathing. 

“Thank you, Greyscale,” Dopple said. “Now, how about we discuss our schedule from now on?”

The next hour or so was spent deciding our collective timetables. I stayed silent throughout, generally uninterested in the topic at hoof but still took notice so as to avoid becoming a burden. The constant reminders to stay safe, stay with a group, stick to the plan, share our ideas, report our findings… It all sounded so dull and repetitive, a regimented series of rules and regulations that would ultimately amount to nothing. It reminded me of school, of those endless days that meshed into a muddled blur, walking from room to room at this time, at that time, time to learn, time and time again, everything ever so important until the day it isn’t and never will be. That wasn’t what I wanted, not with my new family. I knew though that no matter how strictly we held to these plans, they couldn’t last forever. I had already been subjected to wonders and feelings I had no concept of before. And now, I yearned to see what else there was behind the curtain. 

“You’re looking remarkably hopeful,” Copper said quietly, breaking me out of my daydream. She bit her lip. “You really think we can get out of here? You seemed so skeptical before.”

“Uh, well it won’t hurt to try,” I quickly responded. “And we can’t assume we’ve failed before we’ve started.”

Copper looked down at the floor and nodded slightly, then brought her forelegs against her chest as if trying to stave off a chill. I looked at her for a moment, wishing I could understand her plight. She had been terribly pessimistic since we’d arrived and had had numerous emotional outbursts. I considered her a kindly and beautiful mare, but her current state was a dangerous sign. I had to wonder, what did she have on the outside world that made her turn this way? 

She spotted me looking at her and I immediately turned away, blushing. “I w-wasn’t…”

“I know, I know,” she whispered back. She paused for several seconds, the main discussion going on, Sanscript, Dish Panner and Mesmer droning on about their current suspicions concerning the dome and its purpose. “Sorry for being like this and making you worry. I don’t mean to bring everyone else down. Just… this place has given me a lot to think about.”










 


A while later we decided to call it a night. “Greyscale,” Dopple called, motioning towards the kitchen. “If you would.”

All eyes were on me I crept into the kitchen to retrieve the knife. The blade was left spotless and gleaming next to a green chopping board. I took the smooth plastic handle in my mouth and turned around to see my reflection staring back at me in the metallic shine of the waste bin. There I was, carrying an instrument of death. A memory resurfaced and I strode out of the room, my pulse quickening. Everyone was saying their brief goodbyes, their goodnights, and reminding each other of the morning to come. 

“It’s funny,” Mesmer said to me, looking somewhat amused. “You’ve managed to gain quite a bit of support from the others, yet we’ve only been here two days. And you’re supposed to be the Ultimate Nobody? I have to wonder, just what are you?” His expression grew serious and he began to whisper into my ear. “I suggest you be extremely careful from now on. If you were to die or commit murder, I daresay the results may be catastrophic.” With that cryptic statement he left with total nonchalance. I didn’t have the state of mind to think over his comment; I needed to get out of here, to get to my room. I started up the stairs, Dopple and Lancet staying by my side as I walked down the corridor.

“Remember to be up before seven,” Dopple reminded me. “We need to return it as soon as possible.” 

I merely nodded in response. My mind was elsewhere. I opened my room door, firmly shut it behind me and quickly tossed the knife into my wardrobe. I was sweating now, and I took deep gasps for air as I realized that I’d been holding my breath. I threw myself onto my bed and curled up into a ball. I wished then that I’d said no.

While my life had been shamefully uneventful, there was one night in particular I would never forget… 

I was fifteen at the time, and a wild thought had crossed my mind. It had come after a series of lessons on the different religions of Equus, mostly those that had come and gone throughout history. For most of my school life I paid little attention, just as the world did to me, but in this one instance I took notice. Throughout all of history, and in almost every religion, there was an immense focus on the concept of afterlife, a place all creatures would go once we had shed our mortal coil. Whether we would become spirits and roam Equus until we had fulfilled ‘unfinished business,’ be transported to a lush paradise beyond imagination, or be reincarnated into something new, the idea of an afterlife was a common thread, a pivotal point of thinking throughout all the cultures of Equus for thousands of years. It got me thinking.

A few nights later, after I had dinner in my room (my aunt and I rarely ate together), I merely sat in the corner and began contemplating my own demise. If I were to turn into a ghost, maybe I could travel all across the world, or, even if I was fated to remain stuck in a fixed location, make contact with living ponies and become something of a phenomenon. If I returned as an animal – any animal – it would open up a whole new life experience. I could discover things that would otherwise be impossible. I blushed at the thought of coming back as a beautiful mare, living a full life and giving birth to foals, perhaps soaring through the skies as a pegasus, dancing in the wind. I imagined wondrous, carefree, eternal bliss in places where pain and grief were nonexistent. No longer would we be constrained by the physical realm, chained to our bodies and places in society, free to see and do all beyond comprehension. 

Then I considered the possibility that this was all make-believe, that death would bring no comfort, no solace, no second chance. Perhaps we were all fated to lose ourselves in an endless void and taste the purest oblivion. Perhaps once it ends, it ends. Much as the world existed before we were born, soon it would return to that state. I pondered these possibilities and came to a conclusion: No matter which of these things were true, it would be worth the risk. To stay the same way I was would leave me as nothing, so what was the harm in leaving? It wasn’t as if anyone would miss me. Even my aunt, I’m sure, would get over my death quickly, and my fellow peers and teachers would surely forget I was even there. I mulled it over, viewing the choice with as much gravity as deciding which flavor of ice cream to have, snuck into the kitchen and took a knife from the top drawer.

If I do it in the bathtub it’ll be easier to clean up the mess, I said inwardly, and crept into the cramped bathroom on the bottom floor. Whoops, don’t lock the door, I reminded myself. Otherwise it’ll be really annoying to get to my body. My aunt was asleep, and I surmised it was unlikely she would catch me in the act. I hope I go somewhere nice. Maybe I’ll come back as a bunny rabbit. 

I sat in the bathtub with the knife between my teeth and held up my left foreleg. It seemed really easy. All I had to do was nestle the tip of the blade against my skin and push through, then I could move on to my other foreleg for good measure. Next, I could lay with my hind legs up against the edge of the bath, forcing my blood flow even quicker, and pass away. Oh, so simple. I held the blade in place with a sense of excitement. Then I pushed.

The blade just about punctured my skin, less than half an inch deep. The pain was sharp and vibrant, accentuated by the warm blood that began to trickle from my wound. I yanked the knife back on reflex and simply stared as the pattern of red traced itself down my leg and dribbled into the bathtub. The sight roused something within me and I clambered out of the tub, breathing hard through my nostrils, my grip on the knife tightening. I felt faint, not from the blood-loss, but from the sudden rush of terror. I had been sure about ending it. I had kept my cool. I had been filled with nothing but gleeful anticipation, waiting to see those pearly gates. But now my nerves were shot and I paced thoughtlessly in the tiny space, bumping into the sink, the bathtub, the walls, my blood dotting the neatly-placed woven mat in the center of the floor. That’s when I finally saw it.

In the reflection of the medicine cabinet I could see myself, the color of my face drained beneath my coat, my pupils dilated and sweat dripping from my forehead. My bony chest rose and fell like a broken set of bellows and my entire body shook with an arctic fervor. Still held in my mouth was the knife, a set of teeth-marks etched clearly into the splintered wood from my vice-like clenching. I had never seen something so terrible. I dropped the knife and curled into a ball, sobbing and choking on my own breath as my blood was smeared across my body. The fear was as great as it was indescribable. For whatever reason, my body had rejected my wish to go.

After an hour or so I wrapped a towel around my leg and began to clear up what I could, rinsing the bath and mopping up with the mat before rolling it up and tossing it in the washing basket at the bottom of the stairs. Once in bed I slept poorly, unable to shake the illogical fear that drifting off would see me slip away forever. I followed my normal routine the next morning, taking some extra time to scrub off the encrusted blood before heading to school. Nobody mentioned my leg. When I got home, my aunt said this, not even looking me in the eye: “Don’t do that again, Grey.” I never did. 

I contemplated suicide a few times more, but the memory of that overpowering dread kept me at bay. Once I’d moved into my apartment I got hold of some razor blades, not unlike those found in the MonoMart. They were there for a ‘just in case’ scenario and had remained in a drawer up until my capture. No doubt, my captors had taken notice of this. It explained why Monobunny had mocked me during the initial tour. 

The thought of suicide, in and of itself, wasn’t all that scary. But then that’s exactly how it was on that night when I was fifteen, and the result had scarred me for life. Seeing my face in the waste bin had brought that same feeling back. Just as before, all I had to do was put the knife in place and push through. Simple. Easy. It would only take a minute. 

I switched off the light and bundled the duvet around me, trying to put it out of my mind. What would the others say if they found your corpse? Would they be sad? Would they be angry? “Shut up.” I turned over. What if, one day you’ll regret not killing yourself when you had the chance? What if you discover a pain that’s beyond your own imagination? I pressed my hooves to my head. “I’m happy here. I’m happy here. I’m happy here.” I repeated the phrase over and over, reminding myself of the bonds I’d made, the case I had solved, the family I was now a part of, those who looked up to me. So what if I was being watched? “I’m happy here.” This was a new era, a new life. I’m glad I didn’t go through with it. The same cycle rolled around in my head until I fell asleep. 










 


I was awoken by the sound of vicious knocking. I groggily reached for my alarm clock and blinked until my eyes adjusted. It was 03:42. 

“It’s too early,” I called out instinctively, turning to the wall and maneuvering my pillow. I began to drift off.

KNOCK KNOCK

“It’s not even four!” I called back angrily, sighing and getting to my hooves.

KNOCK KNOCK “Greyscale!”

The frenzied, gruff tone I heard sent a shiver down my spine. I then remembered where I was, what I was doing, the killing game, the plans, everything. I imagined the most horrific scenario, everyone dead, their bodies beaten into a pulp surrounded by a sea of blood, the lone survivor calling me for help as the murderer stalked them, ready to finish us all.

KNOCK KNOCK “Please…”

This time the voice was quieter. I took several deep breaths to calm my nerves. There hadn’t been a body discovery announcement. If anyone was trying to call for help, I would be far from the first port of call. This meant there probably hadn’t been a murder. “Hold on, just a second,” I said, flicking on the lights. I could hear heavy breathing from behind the door. I reached for the handle before hesitating, realizing my mistake. Tentatively, I peered through the peephole. 

“Yoko?” 

The colossal stallion was hunched over, facing my door, tears streaming from his bloodshot eyes. Globs of saliva fell from his lips as he respired in erratic fashion. “Please, I just want to see you.”

I was frozen solid. I knew he could break down the door if he wanted to. In fact, after seeing him – a sobbing beast nearly five times my size – I was expecting it to come any second. I fell backwards and eyed the wardrobe. My only chance to stop him would be with the knife. If he came at me, delirious, I could maybe launch myself at him in the darkness, gouge out his eyes and then run for my life. I watched the scenario play out in my head and took several deep breaths before slamming open the wardrobe door and arming myself. I would only have one shot. 

“Greyscale, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry…” Yoko thudded against the floor and began weeping feebly. 

“W-why?” I answered back. “What have you done!?”

“I’m so pathetic,” he replied in little more than a hushed whisper. “Look at me. I’m supposed to be the strongest pony who’s ever lived and I break down like this. I just couldn’t take it, Greyscale. I just couldn’t.”

I dropped my guard just a little, placing the knife on the floor. “Yoko, are you drunk?”

“Y-yes!” he cried with a groan. “More than I ever have been. I always drank beer to pile on the pounds, but not like this. I started with one bottle of liquor and then kept going; I didn’t know when to stop. I wasn’t even sure if I’d survive but I just kept at it! I thought maybe it would make me feel better… but no. No! I’m truly sorry. Please, forgive me.”

I exhaled and put the knife back. I didn’t believe he meant to cause me any harm. Still, I was reluctant to open the door. He was unwell, and more than capable of injuring me by accident. “Yoko, it’s alright. It’s been a tough day. Nobody blames you for reacting this way.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

His helpless response tugged at my heartstrings and I almost opened the door out of guilt. I could never have imagined he’d be so fragile. But something bothered me. “Yoko, why did you come to me?”

Yoko grew silent for a moment. “You stood up for me,” he said plainly. “Elsie was giving me what for and you talked her down. Back in the dining hall, remember?”

“Uh, yeah,” I replied. “I’m surprised you remember.”

“Yeah,” he said with a chuckle. “That’s understandable. I thought that was it, I’d be made out to be the big bad wolf of the story and everyone would turn on me. I’m dangerous, I’m a liability and all that. Not that I blame Elsie or anyone else for that matter. I get it. I’m a monster. A freak of nature. If it made everyone else feel better, I might’ve just drowned myself in the pool, give you all less to worry about.”

“No!” I cried suddenly, feeling a tightening in my chest. “Yoko, you can’t think like that. Please, promise me you won’t!”

Yoko sighed. “Alright. So long as you promise me something in return.”

“What?”

“I want to hold a proper send off for Pinkie and Shetland. I know, sounds strange I’d want to remember that murdering bastard, but I figured he’s seen some shit in his time, probably messed him up real bad. He paid for his crimes in the end. As for Pinkie, I reckon she was the best of us all. Smart, joyful, kind… Beautiful beyond words, too. But now they’re gone. Everyone’s making plans and I… I’m just worried we’re gonna forget them.” He exhaled unsteadily. I peered through the peephole to see him still and somber. “I think it’s the right thing to do. Not to mention it’ll give those sick fucks who’re watching us something to think about for what they’ve done. What do you think? Will you join me?”

I breathed a sigh of relief. This was what he’d wanted all along. “Of course I will. In fact, I’d be honored to.”

“Thanks, Greyscale. Knew I could count on ya.” Yoko coughed a few times and pummeled his chest with one hoof. 

“You should get some rest,” I said with a yawn. “And drink plenty of water. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Yoko sniffed loudly and got to his hooves. “Oh, and one more thing.” He smiled, peering back at me through the other side of the glass. “Good job on the trial. Let’s hope we don’t see another, eh?”

“Yeah. Let’s hope.” 

“Later.”

I watched Yoko slink out of sight before I got back into bed. I wasn’t sure, but I felt as if Yoko had just become my friend. I’d never known that feeling before, and I had yearned little for it in the first place. Interacting with others had always been so difficult, yet now things had changed. I was experiencing things beyond conceivability. 

“It’s funny. You’ve managed to gain quite a bit of support from the others, and we’ve only been here two days. And you’re supposed to be the Ultimate Nobody? I have to wonder, just what are you?”

I wondered too. Looking back on the thoughts that drove me to consider suicide, those hopeful, enthusiastic thoughts, I flirted with the idea that I had died in my apartment and this was my new heaven. It was ridiculous, of course. But on the other hoof, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything here – from the companions to the rent-free accommodation and the limitless food and drink – had all been made just for me.
> Learning From Mistakes
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You awake?”

“Yeah.” I could see Mesmer, Dopple and Sanscript through the peephole. “Just give me a second.” I carefully took the knife from the wardrobe and opened the door.

“Good morning,” Dopple and Sanscript said in near unison. 

“Morning,” came Mesmer’s greeting.

“Yeah, good morning.” I reminded myself to get used to using that phrase from now on. “Is there any chance one of you could carry the knife?”

“Of course,” Sanscript offered, patting me on the shoulder and lifting the knife with his magic. “You’ve done plenty by keeping it safe.”

We made the trip down to the MonoMart and waited at the door, the digital clock reading 06:55. The thirteen participants left had been split into groups of four (with Yoko as of yet unassigned) and given strict rotas for the weapon stock check. Group two consisted of Maribelle, Button, Dish Panner and Elsie while group three consisted of Inky, Reph, Lancet and Copper. Each group would, in turn, meet at the entrance at 07:00, 14:00 and 19:30, with the evening group being given enough time to make the check before closing time and tasked with standing guard until the doors were locked. The morning group for one day would become the afternoon group the next, then the evening, and so on, rotating the time frame for each group in turn. While it hadn’t been explicitly stated during the original discussions, a group of four would deter any would-be murderers whilst the checks took place since the rules stated that there could only be a maximum of two victims. Any attempts after that and the killer would be punished. It had also been put forward that any trips to the MonoMart for supplies would also require a group trip. It seemed like a foolproof plan. 

At least, it did at the time. 

“This might sound silly,” Sanscript said, staring at the small red light atop the doorway, “but do you really think we would lose a limb if we entered the store even a second too early?”

“You’re welcome to test it,” Mesmer said. “That is, if you don’t value your legs.”

“Oh, goodness no! That’s not a risk I’d be willing to take! It just seems rather peculiar, doesn’t it? The swimming pool had those ghastly automated machine guns, and I could believe such a setup would be possible, but the removal of a specific limb… that I find more ridiculous. How would it even be done?”

“I understand your point,” Dopple interjected, “but if what Shetland told us was true – and I’d say we have little reason to believe otherwise – Monobunny might actually be capable of such a thing.”

“Yes, I did think of that,” Sanscript replied, scratching his chin. “It seems strange, doesn’t it? We’ve all just accepted Monobunny for what he is, but what even is he? An apparition? An illusion? Some farfetched beast from a faraway land? I’ve never heard of such a creature in all my years, not even in fantasy novels.”

“Maybe he’s a robot,” I offered. “Like those things that killed Shetland.”

Sanscript grimaced. “I’d rather not remember that incident. I had my eyes shut for most of it. Even the slightest glimpse churned my stomach. I suppose you could be right, but it still seems inconceivable. Monobunny moves so fluidly and with genuine emotion.”

“It could just appear that way,” Dopple said. “We have no way of knowing what he’s really thinking, or if he even thinks at all.”

“This is rather pointless talk,” Mesmer said gruffly. “It doesn’t matter what he is, it matters what he can do. As of right now there’s no question that he’s dangerous. He also has an uncanny ability to appear anywhere he needs to be and disappear just as quickly.”

“Magic, perhaps?” Sanscript suggested. 

Mesmer shrugged. “Perhaps. But if that were the case it would require someone immensely powerful. We can already cross out the idea that he’s being directly manipulated by a unicorn or else we’d notice an aura around him. If magic is being used to teleport him out of sight at the required time, they would need to accomplish this through the barrier of the dome itself. That is, unless they reside within the dome alongside us, but even so they would only have the cameras to keep track of his movements and act accordingly. That would be more than just difficult, it would be near insurmountable to pull off consistently and without issue. That is, unless some new magical technique has been developed beyond the known limits. The answer is simple, if you ask me. He has access to a hiding place.”

“Then if we find it…” Sanscript furrowed his brow. “Oh, one more thing I wanted to know. Do you all actually believe in Monobunny’s honesty?”

“I think we have to,” Dopple said, looking forlorn. 

Sanscript looked to me expectantly. “Oh,” I said. “Yeah, I agree with Dopple. We have to assume he’s being honest. Otherwise we could question everything.”

“Agreed,” Mesmer said with a small nod. “I would say it is even more than that. Quite frankly, if we cannot take his word then all hope truly is lost.” 

Sanscript trembled at that remark just as the clock reached 07:00 and the doors slid open. 

“Welcome to MonoMonoMart.”

We walked straight to the far corner, Sancript holding the knife precariously in front of us. He put it into the racking and we began the task of counting the weaponry. 

8 7 4 5 3 5 3 

6 4 6 8 4 10 4

The same numbers remained on the tiles, just as they had when Elsie had painted them. The same tools matched up in number, showing that nothing had been taken since yesterday. Not that this was unexpected, since everyone was accounted for up until the evening, but it felt like it was worth confirming the fact.

“It’s odd,” Mesmer said once everything had been returned to its place. “The numbers of each item feel completely random, no semblance of consistency among them. I get that this isn’t a traditional store, but something still feels off to me.” He peered at the racking intently. “I feel like I’m missing something.” He looked away for a moment towards the food aisles. “Greyscale? Sanscript? You were here yesterday while the supplies were gathered. Could you check the stock amounts of those same items?”

“We could,” Sanscript said, “but it’s not like we counted them out when they were originally gathered. We’ll have no idea if the same amount remains.”

“I know that, but you should at least have some idea of how much was here. Were the shelves fully stocked?”

“I think so, though now I’m second guessing myself,” Sanscript said with a chuckle. “But I’m not sure why you–”

“I wouldn’t ask it,” Mesmer said sternly, “if I didn’t have a good reason. Now go. Check what you can. I want to confirm something.”

Sanscript and I exchanged glances and pottered to different aisles, looking over the shelves I’d passed by the day before. As much as I had mixed feelings towards Mesmer, I didn’t doubt his logic or concern. Sure enough, I found fully stocked lines of lemonade and other soft drinks, neatly faced tins of food and a liquor shelf that was full to the brim despite its previous decimation by Yoko and Inky. It was undeniably eerie, as if a poltergeist had rearranged the store in our absence. Walking back, Sanscript met me in the central area, his ponderous expression telling all before he even spoke. 

“It’s all back to how it was. How incredibly strange.”

We reported our findings to Mesmer who promptly sighed and closed his eyes. “This could be a major problem.”

“Why?” Sanscript asked.

“Our efforts could all be for nothing,” Mesmer said gravely, looking back up at the weapons along the wall. “If the other items in the store get restocked, what’s to say these won’t either?”

“But how is it happening?” Sanscript asked. “How are these items being brought into the dome in the first place?”

“I don’t know that,” Dopple said, “but I assume it must take place while the store is closed. Actually… that could mean something important. It explains why we are forbidden from entering during the night. If we were able to witness items being brought in from outside the dome, it could potentially give us insight into an escape route.”

“Wait,” Sanscript said, waving a hoof. “What do you mean by that?”

“What I mean is if there’s a way in there has to be a way out. We’ve already witnessed the walls of the dome being opened up, so it makes sense to assume that there are other openings around the perimeter. Concerning the items in the store, they can’t just be dropped in from a chute. They have to be meticulously placed, which means someone or something needs to be here to do it, and whatever that is, it must have access to another area, and restocks the MonoMart during closing time before heading back. That is, unless we’re dealing with an abnormally powerful magic user.”

“I’m starting to worry about that,” Mesmer said sullenly. “Regardless, the fact that restocking occurs could mean that counting our stock is a pointless endeavor. In fact, I’d like to check something.”

Mesmer slowly trotted away and the rest of us followed. We quickly discovered his cause for concern. “Not what I wanted to see,” he said, gesturing towards the tray filled with razor blades. “Copper said she’d dispose of these, but it was no use, it seems.” He lifted the tray into the air and angrily tossed it onto the floor, spilling its contents with a metallic clatter.

“That was hardly necessary,” Dopple said, stepping up to Mesmer, their muzzles almost touching. “Calm down and think clearly.”

Mesmer turned away in annoyance. “I’m no slave to my emotions.”

“Then don’t get so bogged down by failure. You must’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.”

I felt so out of the loop watching Dopple and Mesmer interact. It was as if they were operating on a different plane of reality, one above from everyone else. I looked to Sanscript, curious if perhaps I was simply misunderstanding normal communication, but the stallion looked oddly perplexed as well. 

“Sanscript, would you mind?” Dopple asked, motioning towards the spilt razor blades. 

“Oh, of course, my dear.” Sanscript diligently cleared up the razor blades and put the tray back on the shelf. 

“So, what now?” Mesmer asked.

“Should we tell the others?” Sanscript asked. 

“No, that would just spread more worry. It’s better that everyone believes in the system. I say we keep this to ourselves and try to hide the fact.”

“Why are you so sure?” I asked. Mesmer turned around and gave me an odd stare. “Let’s just ask Monobunny. Maybe it’s not what you think.”

“I agree!” We all turned to see Monobunny skipping down the aisle towards us. “Mesmer, Mesmer. You think you’re ever so clever but you’re just overcomplicating the situation!”

Mesmer grunted. “Whatever. So, is it true? Are the weapons being restocked?”

“Well… yes, and no. You see, there’s a certain rule when it comes to the items taken from the MonoMonoMart. The stock numbers are to be kept at a particular level. Just as you’ve all surmised, new stock is brought into the MonoMonoMart during nighttime. This is so that the shelves are fully stocked for the morning! 

“However, this rule alone could create a problem. Let’s say that every day, this store was cleared out, every shelf, everything brought into the hotel or other parts of the dome. If we followed this rule and only this rule, it would mean transferring an entire inventory into the MonoMonoMart every night! While that might technically be possible, it would produce some problems, and it would also mean that, should the game end without a clear winner and four or fewer survivors left, everyone could potentially survive for a full lifetime.”

“Why would that be an issue?” Mesmer asked accusingly. “Surely if the game ends in such a fashion the aftermath wouldn’t matter.”

“Hmm… I don’t think I should answer that one. I’ll leave it up to your imaginations!” Monobunny let out a skin-crawling laugh. “Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes. In order to keep the stock levels replenished while also preventing an overabundance of items within the dome, any items that have been consumed, destroyed or disposed of will be replaced within the store. Also, anything perishable that goes rotten or goes past its use-by date will also be disposed of and replaced. Trust me, smelly rotten fruits and vegetables stinking up the place would be a problem for both parties! Like I’ve said before, all food and drink must be safe for consumption, and no poisoning is allowed within the MonoMonoMart. We have high standards in here!”

“So then, that’s why the razor blades are back!” Sanscript exclaimed. “Copper said she’d flushed them down the toilet, which I’m guessing counts as disposal?”

“Precisely. And I can confirm that no knives, hammers, shears, or other blunt and sharp objects capable of bodily harm are small enough to be flushed down the toilet.”

“That explains a lot,” Mesmer said with a sigh. “But I still have questions. If the blades are back, why is the tray? Copper couldn’t have disposed of that, could she?”

“You’re quite right! The tray was removed last night while she slept.”

“What?” Sanscript exclaimed. “You would go into a mare’s room unannounced!? And while she’s sleeping!?”

“Hey, don’t act like it’s perverted! Anyway, the tray was removed because it’s not technically a store product, just a container.”

“What else comes under that distinction?” Dopple asked. 

“Oh, you know, empty boxes, empty tins, empty bags. Anything that’s essentially useless or not intended for particular use is disposed of. However, there is one exception to this rule, for reasons which should become obvious. If, by chance, anyone should spend the night watching said items, waiting for them to be removed, they shall remain in place.”

“I get it,” Mesmer said. “If we did, we might figure out your secrets. But from the sounds of it, we can assume one thing: the items are not simply teleported away. Otherwise, there would be no reason to hide the removal process from us.”

“Ding, ding, ding!” Monobunny waved his arms about wildly. “As you have correctly guessed, any items that are removed or replaced are done so without the direct use of magic.”

“What do you mean by ‘direct’ use?” Mesmer asked.

“Do your questions ever stop? It means nothing is levitated, teleported, morphed, vaporized, materialized or anything of the sort through the use of magic, whether it be from a unicorn, or any other creature or enchantment. That is, at least, until said items leave the confines of the dome. The only time an exception is made is during a murder trial. After all, those glowing pillars you saps have to stand inside don’t just materialize all on their own, and there’s one particular item that is exceptionally difficult to remove without the help of magical assistance. Can you guess what that is?”

Dopple frowned and exhaled sharply through her nose. “Dead bodies.”

“That’s right!”

“Wait a minute,” Sanscript said with a gasp. “You mean to say Pinkie’s body is…” 

“In the heart of a roaring incinerator as we speak!” Monobunny said gleefully, letting out a shrill chuckle. He walked over to one of the shelves and wiped away a thin layer of dust, padding it into the air with his paws. “She’s probably been burned to ashes by now.”

“I’ve had enough!” Sanscript growled. “We shouldn’t have to listen to these sadistic ramblings! They make me sick to my stomach!”

“That said, we’re learning,” Mesmer replied. “As much as he likes to flaunt it, I believe Monobunny’s loyalty to honesty will be his downfall.”

Monobunny shrugged. “Eh, you’re free to believe whatever nonsense you want. Anyway, I’m off. Have fun trying to escape, and remember, kill, kill, kill!” He then took off like a bullet, bounding out of sight.

We left the store without another word, Monobunny’s devilish proclamations playing on our minds. I could understand Mesmer’s point, that perhaps Monobunny could unintentionally let something slip and give us an edge over him. That would explain his belief that without Monobunny’s honesty, there is truly no hope. But if there was a power beyond Monobunny, the supposed ‘mastermind’, I had to wonder how anyone could have any hope of escaping here at all. Without, of course, getting away with murder. 

“Okay, let’s traverse the perimeter,” Mesmer ordered once we were all outside. “All stay as a group. We’re looking for possible ways out of here.”

“I suppose,” Sanscript said half-heartedly. 

And so, our first fruitless search for an exit began. We walked in single file – Mesmer leading the charge while Dopple stayed in view above – prodding at the sky-colored stone walls that surrounded us. Nothing, as expected. The towering metal door marked ‘EXIT’ was immovable, and whatever seams or gaps were present were too infinitesimal to even begin to probe inside. The inside of the dome really was a smooth, perfect semi-sphere. 

“This part I don’t understand,” Mesmer said as we traced the wall in an anticlockwise manner. “We were being held in that room, shackled to the walls when we first arrived. The wall opened up and we stepped inside here.”

“Some… complicated contraption, I would assume,” Sanscript said.

“Right.” Mesmer stopped us in our tracks, scraping a hoof across the wall. “Now, what happened during the first trial? A section of the wall was retracted into the ground, and if I’m not mistaken, this was the same wall that came down when we were let out of the holding room. Do you agree?”

“Now that you mention it, I thought the same thing,” Sanscript said. “But is that correct? Maybe we were just disoriented and got mixed up.”

“I don’t think so,” Dopple said, swiftly landing beside us. “In both instances the right-hand side of the wall was almost parallel to the front-facing wall of the hotel. I remember it quite well.”

“If that’s the case,” Mesmer began, “how do we explain the room changing so much? The shackles were gone and it became a straight path down a flight of stairs.”

“Was it rebuilt?” Sanscript said with a shrug. “Whoever’s behind the scenes could have altered the room while we slept.”

Mesmer shook his head. “That would’ve required magic to complete so quickly. And if magic can only be applied on the dome’s contents during a trial, then it can’t have been the case. The trial didn’t start until we stepped through the doorway at the bottom of the stairs, after the room’s change.”

“Wait,” I said, pointing at the wall. “What’s to say that room counts as part of the dome? I would’ve thought that everything inside here counted as that.” I looked between the three assuming my point to be obvious.

“We’ll have to clarify that,” Dopple said, looking to Mesmer. 

I felt a sharp pang of annoyance. Why are you telling him that when I’m the one who pointed it out? Do you think I’m an idiot? “Don’t we have bigger worries?” I asked, doing my best to mask my anger. “We don’t even know if that exit door leads out of here. We’ll have to clarify that.” 

“Ah, a good point!” Sanscript said, walking back over to the exit door. “This could very well be some kind of ploy!”

Mesmer and Dopple eyed me for a moment, looking wary. Predictably, they could sense my hostility in an instant. I shrank back, avoiding their gaze.

“Greyscale,” Dopple said, inching towards me. “Sorry, I di–”

“No, it’s nothing, really!” I retorted, my mouth speaking faster than my brain, but this time for the right reasons. “I was just making a suggestion. We’re all here to work together, right?” 

I had already felt this before, this innate feeling of rejecting pity, of wishing for something, anything but that, even hatred, even rage to be thrown against me. At least then I could rise above my opposition, convince myself that I was the sensible one, the morally superior one. But pity was another beast entirely. Dopple viewed me as less than Mesmer, such that his attention was of higher importance. All I wanted was to be on equal footing with everyone else, to have some measure of genuine respect. This was my first ever taste of it, and I was damned if I would let it slip away. 

And yet in doing so, I was refusing a reasonable apology from a mare who had shown me genuine support, all because I wanted to ignore my inarguable status as the Ultimate Nobody. It was all so conflicting. 

“Monobunny!” I heard Sanscript call, banging on the door with a rhythmic set of clangs. “Tell us the truth! Is the way to freedom truly behind this door? Come out and answer me!”

“You don’t have to shout,” Monobunny said as he emerged from the hotel, slamming the doors behind him and waltzing over, holding his head in his paw. “Interrogating me again so soon? Don’t you have better things to do, like escaping with your lives?”

“But that’s–!”

“Yes, that’s what you’re trying to do, right? Well you won’t have much luck doing it like this, I can tell you.” Monobunny pointed towards the exit door. “Past the fifteen inches of cast iron is a room. From that room is a straight path to the exit, and the route out of here, heading to the outside world. Of course, if anyone tries using magic to get to the other side, they’ll be disqualified. Oh, and torn to pieces. That too.

“As for the other questions you ingrates were spouting, no, nobody magicked away any rooms, magicked new ones in their place, or transformed any rooms using magic.”

“So does that mean–?”

“No more questions, okay!?” Monobunny blared, flicking Sanscript’s nose. “I refuse to take any more questions from you four for the rest of the day! And if you even think about suggesting others to ask the questions in your place, I’ll tell them to scram! Now get back to wandering aimlessly around, looking for a way out. I’m sure that if you try really hard and figure something out, come up with an amazing plan, you won’t have a chance in hell of getting out of here! Now leave me alone!”

“That was interesting,” Mesmer said as Monobunny scurried away.

“I’m glad you think so,” Sanscript chided while rubbing his nose. “Now he’s remaining silent! We won’t learn a thing!”

“Exactly,” Mesmer said with a small smile. “Either he thinks we’re approaching an unwanted truth or he’s genuinely irritated by us forcing him to speak.”

“But he didn’t need to answer us,” Dopple said. “He could’ve simply ignored us.”

“But he didn’t, did he?”

“Exactly.” Dopple raised an eyebrow knowingly, like a teacher finishing their explanation of a math problem. I had no idea what she was trying to convey, and from Mesmer’s expression it appeared he wasn’t sure either. They exchanged an awkward stare for a few seconds, neither pony moving, and that’s when I saw it. That’s when I understood. Dopple was testing Mesmer. And from the looks of it, he was failing miserably. From then on, Dopple appeared much more powerful and intimidating than ever before.

“Okay,” Mesmer muttered sullenly, looking at the ground. “Let’s continue our rounds of the perimeter.”

We did as Mesmer said, touring the outer walls and inspecting the bronze statue of a saluting stallion that faced the hotel. The words ‘THE GRIM REAPER CIRCLES. SPEAK NOT OF THIS HEAVEN, LEST YOU BE PLUNGED INTO HELL.’ appeared on the plinth, etched with untold precision into the marble. Sanscript was questioned first but couldn’t recall any works of fiction with such a phrase, though the first and last fragments were supposedly commonplace among older works.

“It’s the middle part that confounds me,” Sanscript said, passing his hoof over the writing, as if searching for a way to change the order of the words. “‘Speak not of this heaven.’ Is this directed at us? I’ve no idea what part of this is supposed to be heavenly. Or perhaps the cloud above is meant to represent it?” he asked, pointing at the singular cloud floating a few meters above the statue.

“I think it means somewhere else,” Dopple said. “If this is hell, we were all removed from heaven for merely speaking of it.”

“Then we’re here as punishment,” Mesmer said. “We’re guilty of something in life, and that’s the motive for our imprisonment, or at least part of it.”

“I’ve no idea what that could be,” Sanscript interjected. “But it would explain why we’re being watched. Perhaps those who we have wronged in the past?”

“Maybe,” Mesmer replied, his eyes narrowing at a nearby camera. “But Monobunny said there were thousands watching us. I have to wonder, could we have collectively angered so many others?”

I remained silent as the three of them discussed it further, not wishing to divulge my own theory. After all, I was just doing as the statue decreed. 

In the end, we found nothing.

After the meaningless escape attempt, I spent a little time with Sanscript in the library. As per Dopple’s advice, we kept the door wedged open with a stack of hoof-picked novels in case of emergency. “I’ve no bother in leaving these specimens on the floor,” Sanscript said haughtily, shaking his head as he made his selection. “Quite how the term ‘young adult’ became defined by derivativity, crass underuse of language and idealistic personal fantasies is beyond me.” I refrained from commenting, fully aware that one such book – which he had hastily dropped into the middle of the pile – was a personal favorite of mine. 

Mesmer and Dopple stayed with us for a short while and spoke very little before stepping into the nearby rec room for a private chat. To this I was admittedly annoyed. Mesmer was unabashedly standoffish, but followed Dopple around like a hungry dog, only parting with her so he could assert his dominance over others. I would’ve bet anything that Dopple was fully aware of this, but she made little effort to brush him off. I found myself pining for Dopple to treat me as she had during the day before, but Mesmer’s presence was apparently too important to her. 

Sanscript spent a few minutes droning on about various works that lined the shelves while I listened and made the briefest of chatter. In another time I might’ve been thrilled to have this experience – to have someone share what was the faintest of passions for me – but the dramatic shift to my life caused by the killing game had sucked much of that passion away without me even realizing it. I simply wasn’t myself.  

Once near the back of the library – the shelves furthest the door – Sanscript’s demeanor changed like lightning and he peered towards the door with suspicion before turning to me and taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I… I’m struggling with all this,” he near-whispered, lightly patting his chest. “This place utterly terrifies me, and just when I think I’m alright, that I’ve got my fears under control, my head spins and I feel all out of sorts. And I don’t trust him for one second.” 

“Who, Mesmer?” I asked quietly. 

Sanscript nodded. “Keep an eye on him,” he said. “What he’s doing is textbook misdirection. He has a feud with you, so you’ll be better off than me at sticking close to him. Try and figure out his game if you can. Just be careful, okay? And be ready to protect Dopple. My instincts are telling me that something terrible is going to happen.”

After that, Sanscript went back to speaking favorably (and not so favorably) about some choice poetry collections, as well as admiring the mountain of books he had never even heard of before. I could only think of two things: Firstly, that I had been quite wrong in my assumption of Sanscript. Secondly, that it would be ironic – hilarious, almost – if I killed him where he stood right after he shared his feelings with me. I could batter him around with my hooves, starting with his windpipe. Not that I would ever do that, of course, but the ones watching might get a kick out of–

I jolted backwards. Sanscript assumed I’d just experienced a similar attack to his own and placed a hoof on my shoulder to comfort me. It took several deep breaths before my heart began to beat normally. For just a split second, I had felt my grip on reality slip away completely. I silently prayed it wouldn’t happen again.







“I’d like to apologize to everyone here for my behavior,” Yoko said bashfully in front of his audience. “I won’t let it happen again.”

“That’s alright,” Lancet said cheerfully. “I forgive you.”

It was around two hours later and every one of the hotel’s residents had ventured into the dining room, as if by habit. It seemed that few of us were comfortable with staying holed up in our rooms alone, and were instead drawn to a more social setting. (Button being the exception, though Maribelle had obviously dragged him out of bed) Even with the threat of a killer, strength in numbers appeared to be worth the risk, even if it meant being exposed to a surprise attack in the corridor. At least, that was my take on the situation. It could well have been that everyone was learning to trust one another, but given my conversation with Sanscript, I had my doubts.

“Alright, you’re forgiven,” Elsie said in a harsh tone. “But if it does happen again, I shall see to it that we take action.”

“Accepted,” Yoko said, motioning to Lancet not to fire back. “Anyway, I’d like to discuss something with you all.”

The Ultimate Sumo Wrestler looked rather worse for wear. While his pitch-black mane was in good form, having been slicked back like a dark ocean wave, the bags under his eyes and jittery disposition told a different story. He had been in the dining room when our group of four had arrived, and since then we had been joined by everyone else in turn. Yoko had done his best to appear non-threatening to each new entrant, curling himself into the farthest reaches and smiling apprehensively, a far cry from his usual swagger. 

“I’m going to pay my respects to Pinkie and Shetland.” Yoko continued to explain his idea just as he had to me, asking for anyone who wished to do the same to join him in the swimming area. Elsie made a very vocal pass, claiming it was pointless because we barely knew them. Dish Panner passed as well, claiming she simply couldn’t face stepping hoof where we had last seen Pinkie’s body. Button voiced the same concerns, so Maribelle opted to stay with him. Reph remained on the fence throughout, finally conceding and wishing to join despite looking more nervous about it than anyone else.

“This is a great turnout!” Yoko said cheerfully before leading the charge. “I’m glad so many of you feel the same way.”

“So long as this doesn’t become a regular thing,” Copper muttered glumly, to herself more than anyone else. 

“Don’t s-say that!” Reph whined, his teeth chattering. “My spine can’t take another chill!”

After funneling through the relevant changing rooms, we grouped around the diving board. Just as Monobunny had said, Pinkie’s body was nowhere to be found. This fact elicited a thankful sigh from Reph, who had initially come through the swing doors with a hoof over his eyes. Sanscript quickly informed the others of what Monobunny had said, albeit without mentioning the incinerator. 

So, magic is used once the trial begins, I pondered. That makes sense. Our trial might have taken some time, but if the culprit was obvious from the beginning, it might have only taken a few minutes. Magic would’ve been the only way to ensure the body’s removal in such a short time, but depending on the cause of death, cleanup could be quite the task. A single unicorn couldn’t do it all by themselves, surely? And why the stipulation? Why not use magic for everything? I lost my train of thought as Yoko turned to us and began his speech.

“We’re gathered here to honor two fallen ponies.” Despite being upbeat mere moments ago he now spoke with deep solemnity. “Though our time together may have been brief, it does not diminish the gravity of their passing. Neither of them deserved their fate, and though I may begrudge Shetland for his actions, I believe that in another life, things could’ve been different.” 

He carried on for a while more, his gaze drooping slowly to the ground. He looked oddly comfortable as he mulled over the philosophical nature of life and death, showing gratefulness for them finally finding peace. He remarked on his wish to find out just how great Pinkie’s parties truly were, the positivity that she showed us while alive – “something we could take a lesson from” – and finished with a message to Applejack, which he delivered straight into one of the cameras protruding from the nearest corner where the wall met the ceiling. 

“I bet you’re feeling a whole lot worse than all of us put together. It’s a crying shame you had to watch your friend die. Whatever support I can give, you can have. Hopefully we can meet one day. I’d like that.” He took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Sorry for being selfish. I should’ve allowed someone else to take the floor before me. Would anyone else like to say a few words?”

“If I may,” Lancet said with a short bow. “Though what you’ve already said was truly wonderful.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Yoko said, mimicking her gesture.

“All I wanted to say… Well, how do I put it? I’m sure you’re all aware that I nearly lost myself to depression after the events of the trial. I held an admiration for Shetland, an innate feeling of trust and kinship that I still held onto, even as his intentions were made clear. I thought maybe that was foolish of me, but I don’t feel that way anymore. Both Shetland and Pinkie, they were each trying to save others, even though one was willing to sacrifice us and the other sought the exclusive trust of another and nobody else. Perhaps if I had grown wise – or thought I’d grown wise – to the things she truly believed, I would have done the same thing and I would have been the first victim. Or rather the second, I should say.

“Cube Rick died before any of us even knew him, all because he fought back against our oppressor with force, fighting fire with fire. Pinkie died because of her conviction, her need to put all her hopes into one other while excluding the rest. Shetland died because he believed he could get away with murder, that nobody else could figure out his methods. In the end, there were at least two who stood in his way, unravelling even the most elusive and imperceptive of details.” 

Lancet gave a nod to Mesmer and I before continuing. I felt a burst of pride leap from my chest and pulled an involuntary smile. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that Dopple had figured it all out on her own. That, just as Mesmer had stated, she was the most intelligent one among us. Her occasional conversations with Mesmer rose above what I could comprehend, and Mesmer’s temporary moment of dumbfoundedness suggested she was operating on a level above even him. And yet, during the trial she seldom spoke. I had to wonder, if she knew the culprit’s identity from the start, why did she leave it for the rest of us to solve?

“Please forgive me if my words come off as callous or disrespectful. I in no way wish to treat the deaths of Cube Rick, Pinkie or Shetland as some meaningless statistic. I believe we should continue to think of them as they were, and to never forget that they had lives, that they had hopes and dreams, and that their time was tragically cut short. My point is, we can learn from their mistakes. That way, they won’t have died in vain.”

I noticed Mesmer’s ears prick up and a frown – the tiniest frown, either in interest or dismay, I couldn’t be sure – appeared on his face. 

Lancet closed her eyes and held a hoof to her chest. “We cannot follow in their hoof-steps. We must find a new path, one that we must all strive for together. We cannot fight Monobunny head-on. We must share our ideas and feelings. Most importantly of all, we must not think for one second that murder is the solution. It is just another road to failure.” Lancet opened her eyes and smiled. “I hope you can all agree.”

“Hear, hear!” Yoko boomed, grinning feverishly. “We can’t fall into the same traps that they did. If they’re watching us right now, that’s what they’d want us to realize!”

“A good message to us all,” Sanscript said with a curt nod. 

I nodded in kind, merely out of a feeling of necessity. Mesmer followed suit, his shock either gone or hidden from his face. Dopple did the same, smiling. Reph remained a bag of nerves but uttered something in agreement. The reaction that alarmed me the most, however, was Copper’s. The mare appeared lighter on her hooves, almost as if she was going to faint. Her stomach contracted and her lips quivered. She took a series of quick, wavering breaths through her nose. My first thought was that she had stifled the urge to vomit. In turn, I felt a commanding desire to hold her, to pull her into my chest as she sobbed, to kiss her tenderly on the forehead, but succeeding only in imagining it.

“Oh, may I speak next?” Inky asked, already pushing herself into an open space, like a performer taking command of a stage. “I didn’t spend much time with Pinkie, but what little time we shared was truly awesome. She was a cool chick with a cracking smile, and I bet she was a demon in the sack.” Inky chuckled to herself before abruptly quivering, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I’m really g-going to miss her. She could have been my best friend.” 

Inky erupted into a loud wail and lurched forward. Yoko approached her and held out a hoof for comfort but she pushed it away, walking past him and leaping towards Sanscript, throwing her forelegs around him. “I didn’t get to say goodbye!”

“There, there,” Sanscript said, rubbing her back. “Everything’s going to be alright, Miss Slinger.”

Inky nodded sadly, rubbing her muzzle into his mane and breathing deeply. 

As the charade continued, my mind quickly returned to Lancet’s words and what they meant for the rest of us. She’d sounded so sure of herself, as if she had blasted the mystery of our capture wide open and delivered the answer to our problems, as if her reasoning would rally the troops. I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. Now I understood the meaning behind Copper's reaction. I looked around, wondering if anyone would tell Lancet the truth. Her logic was utterly busted. For anyone wishing to leave this place, the only lesson to be learned was to perfect the art of murder. Through the act of attempted reassurance, I felt as if Lancet had only emboldened the group’s will to slaughter one another to survive.
> Life Lessons, Death Lessons
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’ve already fallen behind with my schedule.” Yoko crouched down, his torso just barely lifted away from the floor. He crawled forward and emitted a series of low grunts, his muscles contracting and veins almost popping out of his skin. Given his frightfully bulky frame it was a shock to see him display such graceful flexibility. It was like watching an enormous spider track its prey. Once a short distance had been covered, he pulled himself up effortlessly and arched his back, letting loose with a cascade of mighty cracks from his spine. “I lose one day and already it makes a difference,” he said, shaking his head mirthfully. “That technique strengthens your tendons, makes you more versatile in the circle. You can use it in a wrestling match to duck under your opponent’s attack and leap onto ‘em like a lion. The problem is if you get stepped on, chances are you’re going down. Unless you’re strong enough to take a few hundred pounds, that is.” Yoko flashed a cheeky grin.

“I couldn’t even imagine.” 

It was a while after Pinkie and Shetland’s memorial, and Yoko and I were conversing in the gym. Earlier, we had returned to the dining room with the others, but an oppressive atmosphere had materialized. Mesmer remained eerily pensive – even more so than usual for someone so unsociable – and refrained from conversing for a long period of time. Copper in particular was in an alarming state, looking as if she might crack any second and start raving hysterically. I could only conclude it had something to do with Lancet’s well-meaning declaration, something that she repeated to Elsie, Dish Panner, Maribelle and Button given their previous absence. By sheer uncanny coincidence this same group of four handled the midday check of the MonoMart’s weapon stock. No change. Of course, I told myself. Nobody would’ve had a chance. 

After a short meal I had wandered off to bed. Yoko paid me a visit a while later (I had given up on keeping track of time) to see how I was, and I ended up following him to the gym. This, despite knowing I was hopeless when it came to one-on-one conversations. The last time we spoke, I had held the upper hoof. That was something I couldn’t imagine replicating ever again, not in my lifetime. Still, I remembered the revelation that I’d come to: maybe Yoko was my friend. As such, I accepted Yoko’s invitation. And I was all the happier for it.

“There’s a lot of misconception that surrounds the world of sumo,” Yoko continued. “It’s no secret that I’m on the large side, that I have more layers of fat than a toad has warts.”

That’s an understatement, I thought of saying.

“You’d be forgiven for thinking it makes me unhealthy, unagile, nothin’ but a brute whose legs are gonna give up the ghost any minute and snap. Total nonsense! Sumo is as much about control, health and discipline as any martial art or meditative exercise. Sumo is a lifestyle. Back in the dojo, from the moment I wake up until the moment I go to bed – rising and sleeping early with a strict regimen – everything is connected to sumo. At least six hours of intensive exercise, muscle therapy and long rest sessions, all to uphold a tradition that stretches back for countless generations.

“Of course, some see it as something childish and silly, two burly stallions trying to push each other over, but there is an art to it. Movement above strength above weight, that’s the way. Sumo’s just an evolution of animalistic instinct but in the most humane and appreciative discipline. You have your patch, your opponent has theirs, and you’re defending it with your life. If you can’t hold your own, you don’t deserve it. If your opponent can show that you’re weak and send you toppling over, that’s the end. No kicking while they’re down and no attempting to cause real damage and leave a permanent scar. It’s about respect, not chest-thumping arrogance.” Yoko’s eyes widened and he scratched the back of his neck bashfully. “Sorry, I guess I got carried away. I swear my mouth would escape if it wasn’t permanently attached to my face!”

“No, it’s fine, really,” I replied. Speaking with Yoko was, in its own way, kind of liberating. I imagined in certain circles he was a legend, a celebrity, someone you’d travel halfway around Equus just to meet, and here I was idly chatting with him. We were stuck in a killing game – that, I’m sure he hadn’t forgotten – but here he was, talking as if all was right with the world, simply expressing his boundless passion. After his drunken breakdown it was not only surprising, but rather pleasant, and I felt that was the point. That was what he was trying to accomplish. It also felt wholesome to know that he’d picked me specifically, though I had no idea what it was that I had to offer. 

“It’s funny. You’ve managed to gain quite a bit of support from the others and we’ve only been here two days. And you’re supposed to be the Ultimate Nobody? I have to wonder, just what are you?”

You’re telling me, I silently replied, Mesmer’s words trickling faintly through my mind.

“Well, so long as you’re sure,” Yoko said with a smile. “You know, believe it or not, when I was a foal I was a weak, spindly, gangly-lookin’ thing.”

“What?” I exclaimed. 

“It’s true,” he continued with a nod. “At twelve I was little more than skin and bones. Colts used to make fun of me, fillies didn’t want to speak to me… School was hard and I failed at pretty much everythin’. I even failed at physical education if you can believe it!” Yoko laughed heartily. “I had no direction, nothin’ in life that I really wanted to do, no passion, no future. I was unhappy as all hell, truth be told.

“But then something happened, something unexpected. I went to a sumo match, my grandfather’s idea, really. He liked it and I barely knew about it, but one weekend we ended up going to a demonstration and that was that. I never expected anything, nothing at all, really. Boring old Grandpa wanted to watch two stallions slap each other, was what I thought. But when I watched it happen, saw the emotion on the faces of the competitors and felt the atmosphere turn electric once that split second of hitting the sand passed, I was hooked. 

“Some sumo matches can be over in seconds and that puts a lot of ponies off. Makes it seem insignificant to some, but I think it makes it all the more meaningful. Every second counts, every move, every decision. You’re risking it all, trying to gauge your opponent, predict what they’re going to do and then stopping them. You can act conservatively, but if you’re too predictable you could be walking into a trap. In those few seconds you’re at your best. No being bogged down by time, muscle aches or decision making, just a quick, decisive bout testing the synergy of mind and body. Once I could see that, the rest was inevitable.

“Of course, I failed at first, and hopelessly at that. Didn’t have the strength, didn’t have the stamina, didn’t have anything, really. I strolled into a local dojo with my Grandpa and was laughed at. These other colts were burly, fierce lookin’ things. I had begged my Grandpa just to be here and already it looked like curtains for me. I was inducted into the group and we started training exercises. I thought I had the hang of it, didn’t seem all that tough at first. It was tiring and made me sweat, but I managed. What I didn’t realize was this was just a quick warm-up, a ‘light stretch’ before sparring. Once that happened I got to see some demonstrations from the others. I was so excited, sure that I could learn the techniques just by mimicking them. As you’d probably expect, I didn’t. When I got pitted against the smallest colt in the room in a friendly match I was hurled aside like a twig and landed awkwardly on my shoulder.

“You see, in sumo you don’t just spend a few hours a week in training. You live it. Every day, pushing yourself further and further. I didn’t realize that until after I’d been taken home by my Grandpa and he explained it to me. I think he took me to the dojo just to teach me a lesson, to show me that I couldn’t just leap into something and expect to be great. Maybe he thought I’d be put off from sumo for life, but that didn’t happen. I wanted to get better, to sign myself onto the dojo fully as an established member. That would mean changes to my school-life, performing extra tasks with dojo upkeep, and eventually living there. My parents and my Grandpa told me I was in over my head and disallowed me. I suppose it was the right thing to do from their perspective. Young’uns don’t always know what they want, even if they’re one hundred percent sure of it. But back then, I flipped out, locked myself in my room and didn’t come out for two whole days.”

Yoko sighed deeply and looked sullenly at the floor. “I can still remember that fury, but what I remember most was the feeling of self-loathing. I would stare into my mirror and think, ‘this isn’t who I am. This isn’t who I want to be.’ If I was a failure of a sumo wrestler and a failure of everything else, I was worth nothing. I was destined to grow up into a nobody.”

Yoko’s face jerked up as he said this, and he blushed guiltily. “No, forget I said that, please. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I replied, though I did feel a little hurt. Not because of Yoko himself, but merely the fact of my life. “Really, I’d like to hear the rest of your story.”

“Alright, thank you.” Yoko exhaled, clutching at his chest. “I am telling you all this for a reason, you know. Not to boast and make myself seem better, just to… Well, you’ll understand when I’ve finished. Now where was I?

“After I conceded and left my room my parents were good to me. I guess they assumed my sumo pipedream was over and I was ready to accept their decision. What I actually did was borrow a few books from the library about sumo techniques and study in secret. Didn’t work at first since stomping and charging around the house made a racket, so I started gettin’ up two hours early. Did me in to begin with but I learned to cope. Then I’d sneak out into the garden and study by moonlight, my hoof-falls quieted by the soft earth. 

“Next was the easy part – eating more. Not only was I a growing colt but I was also on the skinnier side, so I would ask my parents for extra during mealtimes. Then I’d use some of my allowance to buy big bags of rice and hide them under one of the floorboards in my room. I even learned how to start my own fires using flint and kindling from one of the nearby woods, then I convinced my parents that I was partaking in extra after-school studying. I don’t know why they didn’t suspect something when I told them that, but for whatever reason they bought it. I’d bring rice in my school-satchel and use a metal pan, water from a nearby river, set up a fire, boil it and eat it. 

“If that sounds like a lot of effort, like something was bound to go wrong, you’re right. To begin with I’d barely get a fire lit before I had to hightail it back home, and I began to leave evidence of my evening snacks. Other times I’d skip school altogether so I could exercise and bulk up. Not to mention, it was tiring me out. My legs were struggling with the constant exercise, and I would feel bloated and tense. I came so close to giving up altogether on so many occasions, but I pushed through. It was the one thing I thought about.

“Over the next two months or so I’d put on some weight and gained a slight bit of muscle, but my schoolwork suffered. I was doing worse than before, and now I was generally ignoring everyone else. My mother scolded me, asked me how this could possibly be happening if I was doing extra studying. So… I flew into a rage and blurted it out, my eating habits, skipping school, all of it. Then I just burst into tears. I was sure then that my dream was forever dead, and I just wanted to disappear. Never before and never again did I feel such complete and utter despair.

“But there’s a happy ending to this story. Y’see, something wonderful and unexpected happened. While I was crying my heart out, my mother explained the situation to my father. Rather than flip out they both hugged me and apologized. They said they never knew how much it had meant to me, and from then on they were helping me to achieve my goal. They learned about my training and set me timetables. They piled on the food portions and got the help of a local doctor to make sure I wasn’t putting too much strain on my body. They stopped caring about my progress at school. They stopped forcing me into doing chores and let me rest as long as I needed. They did everything they could to keep me on the right track. I guess you could say I owe them a lot.

“Six months after I’d told them, I’d almost doubled in weight and had grown much, much stronger. I attended the same dojo again. Nobody laughed this time. More they looked shocked. The Sensei, he was a world-class sumo wrestler, and he came straight up to me. ‘So ya got big, huh?’ he said to me in his deep, gravelly voice. Stared deep into my eyes, I guess trying to intimidate me. ‘And what d’you want?’ he asked. I stared back for a while and then bowed my head. ‘I wish to learn,’ I said, almost kissing the floor. ‘Please grant me your wisdom.’ ‘You ask for too much,’ he said, then walked away.”

“But why?” I asked. “You proved you were willing to work for it.”

Yoko chuckled to himself. “Grandmaster Kanji was an interesting stallion. Struck fear into the hearts of everyone around him. He was nicknamed ‘The Devil’ by some. Supposedly his opponents would find the sight of him so terrifying that when he charged, they’d feel as if they were being pulled into the ground by a demon. He wasn’t impressed by me at all, thought I was some rowdy colt who just wanted to throw my weight around to hurt others. I guess there was a little truth in that at the time. But he let me stick around for some training before telling me to scram. I didn’t get to fight anyone like last time. Heck, I expect the only reason he let me do that the time before was to scare me away forever. 

“I started doing my morning exercises outside the dojo and within a few days Grandmaster Kanji found out about this. He stormed outside and I froze. Then I bowed. ‘Get up,’ he told me, so I did. ‘You think you can barge into my dojo and become a sumo just like that?’ I said, ‘I’ll do whatever it takes.’ He looked at me for a little while then said to me, ‘if you fail, or if you give up, I’ll never forgive you.’ Pretty frightening, huh? But that was Sensei. Next thing I knew he wanted to talk to my parents. After all, I’d be leaving home and school behind. He also told them about how sumo wrestlers tend to die younger than normal ponies. Having this kind of body takes its toll, plus the sport itself can be dangerous. ‘I don’t care,’ I told them. ‘I would rather die happy.’ They cried for what seemed like hours when I said that, but agreed to it in the end anyway.

“Now once I moved, I was in high spirits. But the workouts, chores, and everything else, it was tough. Much tougher than I’d expected. I got thrown around a lot by the more experienced colts there, and I had a lot of studying to do on the history of sumo and legendary figures who came before me. It did get better though, and once I started improving my techniques, the happier I got. Years went by and eventually I could beat all the other junior wrestlers with ease. I even gave some of the older stallions a tough time. By the time I was seventeen I was almost as big as I am now, and nobody in the stable could even come close. That is, apart from Sensei. He had this way of moving slowly and deliberately that totally threw me off, then he’d fly like a rocket-powered warthog and put me off balance. He could read my muscles and react accordingly, like some magic trick. He really was The Devil. He barely spoke a word to me but the respect I had for him was beyond anything. He went harder against me than anyone else, but I deserved it. I pushed him hard. But I never did beat him.”

“Hang on,” I said. “If you never beat him, why does that make you the Ultimate Sumo Wrestler?”

Yoko furrowed his brow. “Because he passed away when I was eighteen.”

I opened my mouth in shock. “I… I’m sorry. I should’ve realized when you were saying–”

“It’s alright,” Yoko said, putting up a hoof. “It was a long time ago. He died of heart failure aged forty-two, in the middle of a tournament. Right as he started the bout I knew something didn’t seem right. He took a hard fall and I rushed to the ring. He was clutching his chest and spluttering as the medical team were being called over. I was hunched over by him, calling out ‘Sensei! Sensei!’ I fell onto the floor, crying. He took one look at me and said, ‘Get up. You don’t get to hit the ground until it’s your turn to die.’ Then he was gone.”

Yoko raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “No need for a pity party, like I said. But yeah, those were his last words. Kind of shows who he really was, you know? He wasn’t afraid, didn’t break down or tell me he was proud of me, no mushy stuff like that. Sumo was everything to him, and I think he wanted me to be just the same. 

“After that I trained harder than I ever did. About a year later and I fully began my professional career. Entered my first championship and came out on top without once hitting the floor. They called me The Demon, said I was the one who used to pull down The Devil’s victims and that I’d clambered up from some hellish realm to replace him now that he was gone. Years went by and I won every professional match, though I did take a year or so out in between.

“It isn’t easy being the best in the world. Everyone starts hating you, wishing for you to fail. It’s fun to root for the underdog, you know? I know I did. Every time I faced a new up-and-coming wrestler I desperately hoped, deep in my heart, that they’d be the one to finally take me down. But I never let up, never did anything but try my absolute best. If Sensei was watching over me, I wanted him to see that I was taking his words to heart.

“But that’s the tragedy of it all, really. Fans and experts alike all raved about their theories, if me and Grandmaster Kanji were active in the same period, both in our prime, who would have been the best? I was asked this a thousand times and I only ever had one answer: How could I be better than him if he’s the only reason I got to where I am? They say when you’re at the top your biggest challenge is motivating yourself. Having someone above you gives you a reason to get better, gives you a mountain to climb, provides divine inspiration. For me, Sensei is that mountain, standing eternally over us all. I’ll never get a chance to know if I could ever beat him, and while that’s a shame, it’s also given me a goal. I want to inspire someone to become better than I ever was. If we ever get to face each other, that’s a bonus.”

Yoko exhaled deeply, his trademark grin returning once again. “Now, you’re probably wondering why I’m telling you all this.”

I cocked my head. “I… I assumed it was because we were friends,” I said sheepishly, feeling a tinge of disappointment.

Yoko’s eyes widened and he chuckled a little, blushing. “Wow, your words hit like a battering ram! Okay, sure, that’s one reason, but mainly I just wanted to offer you hope.”

“Hope? Hope for what?”

“For something better. Look, I know you probably don’t like to hear it, but you came here as The Ultimate Nobody. But so what? I was a nobody until I found sumo. I had nothing else going for me. Who knows what I’d have ended up doing? It’s the same for you, okay? The only real difference between us is that you’ve not been exposed to your true calling, whatever it is.”

I shuddered. “I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but I don’t see what that something could be.”

“What, because you don’t exude an obvious talent? I used to be a stick insect before sumo; who could have predicted I’d get where I am today?”

Yoko’s words did lift me a little, but I wasn’t quite convinced. “Yeah, but, we’re in a killing game.”

“So what?” Yoko said with a shrug. He seemed shockingly genuine. “That doesn’t mean you don’t have a chance at finding something. You don’t have to tell anyone about your past if you don’t want to, and none of that matters, anyway. Really, what do you have to lose?”

I opened my mouth to answer and then slammed it shut. He was right. 

“You see?” Yoko flexed one of his forelegs and pulled a strained, prudish face. “Alas, more words of wisdom from wise old Yoko-san!” He smiled before his eyes flitted to something behind me, bearing a bemused, curious expression. “Well… it looks like we have a follower.”

I looked over my shoulder to see the gym door slowly close shut of its own accord. “Who was that?” I asked. 

Yoko shook his head lightly. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Probably sent up here to check I hadn’t flattened you like a pancake.”

I laughed a little. Then I had a brief moment of anxiety as I realized he really could do just that.

“Say, while we’re here, and have a little privacy, why don’t you tell me which mare you’ve got your eye on?” Yoko raised an eyebrow jovially and winked. “You can tell me, you know. I’ll even hook you up!”

My face was instantly aflush and I stumbled over my words. “N-no, I d-don’t think that’s n-necessary.”

Yoko laughed and nudged me lightly on the shoulder, lightly, which for him, was a one-hoofed barge capable of knocking over an armoire. “Relax! I was just kidding! You don’t have to tell me anything, unless you want to, that is.” He scratched his mane absentmindedly. “Actually, now that I think about it there was one other thing. Something’s missing from the gym.”

“Missing?”

“Yeah, just over here.” Yoko led me to two rectangular MDF pillars at one side of the room that stood roughly four feet apart and reached to twice Yoko’s height. 

“What are they for?” I asked, wondering why I hadn’t noticed this oddity before. 

“That’s just it, they’re meant to hold the pullup bar in place.”

“Pullup bar?”

“Uh-huh.” Yoko nodded. “I’m pretty sure that yesterday there was a metal bar here, one for doing pullups? I don’t really have a need for it in my personal training and I’d probably be too heavy to use it, but it’s gone all the same, I just thought it was weird. Well, it was also weird being here in the first place. What kind of setup is this? Why have just a bar all on its own? Why build these pillars here for just that purpose? Makes no sense to me.”

“Yeah, I agree.” I inspected the pillars more closely and was immediately drawn to a circular indent a little above head-height. Directly opposite was an indent on the other pillar, the same size and shape. “Look, this must be where the bar used to be. Maybe Monobunny took it down?”

“Maybe, maybe not. If it’s anything like a normal pullup bar it should be adjustable. I think I remember it having these twisty things, kind of like cogs, one black and one white. Lets you change the length and then lock it in place so you can put it up just about anywhere. I reckon anyone could have taken it, except maybe Button. I don’t know if he’d be tall enough to reach. Maybe someone moved it into their room, thought it’d be better to exercise in private. Well, as private as this place gets with all the cameras.” Yoko sighed. “Creeps me out to think someone’s watching this shit, but it’s best not to think about it. Anyway, I feel like some lunch. Come on, I’ll treat you to some of my renowned spicy noodle supreme!”

As we got supplies from the MonoMart my mind drifted to the missing pullup bar and its potential meaning. There were several aspects of the hotel that had struck me as odd from the very beginning: The oversized laundry room with its ancient machines, two of the personal rooms (Dopple’s and Copper’s) being central to the building and as such having no windows, the gym with its limited and strange offerings, the utility room on the ground floor, a collection of rules and regulations that Monobunny adhered to that were strangely specific, and biggest of all being the swimming pool on the top floor with separate “changing” rooms (when the majority of the hotel’s occupants didn’t even wear clothes) among other small details. While I didn’t understand it entirely, I knew the counter-intuitive design had something to do with the killing game. But it would surely be impossible to construct the building and the dome at large to its utmost effectiveness if this were the first attempt. Either these peculiarities were merely the product of wanton randomness and eccentricity, or were the newest iteration of a well-oiled machine.

Yoko dished up his ‘signature dish’ which was just noodles in a chili sauce and a smattering of bean shoots and chunks of boiled celery. Nothing epoch-shattering when stacked up against Dish Panner’s culinary prowess, but certainly better than my usual meals despite its heat factor being ramped up into the stratosphere and requiring me to actively avoid the patches of sauce that dribbled through the noodles for fear of dying from incinerated tongue. Yoko’s own dish was the same, but in a bowl three times the size, and smattered with what I would immediately think of as chili pepper confetti. 

“Sorry about that!” Yoko said. “I tried to make it mild, but I must be too used to spicy goodness!”

“It’s fine,” I said out of politeness, gulping water down at a rapid rate. 

We were alone in the dining room, everyone else having split up during our time spent in the gym. I tackled about a third of my bowl before calling it quits. The portion size was far beyond what I was used to, anyway. 

Yoko had also snagged two bottles of sake, “it’s a wine made from rice” Yoko had told me. I tried it and found it middling, but still tolerable. It seemed to take a slight edge off the spice though, so I helped myself. Started to feel quite mellow after a while.

“Spice is good for you!” Yoko rambled as he devoured his enormous bowl of death-by-heat without so much as a wince, shredded peppers disappearing forever. “Builds up your immune system. There’s a reason why hot sauces can stay out at room temperature for so long, there’s not much bacteria that can stand it! Of course, it also speeds up metabolism, so I try not to rely on it all the time.”

“Why would you need to get bigger?” I asked.

“Why not? So long as I build up my muscles along with my fat it’s no problem.” He polished off his bowl with a loud slurp before licking the last remains of the chilis. “Right, I need a nap. Best way to pile it on!” he said, slapping his stomach which sent out a pulse of ebbing skin across his torso. “You gonna be alright on your own?”

It’s been my whole life up until now, I’m sure I’ll manage. “Yeah, I might grab a book to read from the library.”

“Well alright then, I’ll tag along and keep an eye on you. Keep to your room whenever you can, you hear? I can’t be your guard dog all the time.”

Yoko did as promised while I picked up a murder mystery novel (thinking the irony to be kind of amusing) and went to my room. I took a long, hot shower, leaning against the tiled wall and relaxing, the soft patter of droplets dancing a rather pleasant massage across my midsection. I thought back to my old apartment, its worn carpet, scarred wooden doors, tattered futon, and half a kitchen’s worth of kitchen. The bathroom? Decrepit and tainted with grime. Not to mention the last time I was within its walls there was no running water. This hotel accommodation was far out of my price-range (I had a price range?) and had been given to me for free. 

“Room service!” I said aloud, holding a hoof to my ear. “I want an ice cream sundae, some champagne and an extra thick duvet!”

I tilted my head back and took in a mouthful of warm water, gargled it, then spit it out to one side. I laughed at myself, my foalishness, my state of mild intoxication, and stared towards the other end of the bathroom. I locked eyes with the camera that kept watch over me. I thought about what Monobunny had said, that there were thousands watching over us. I wanted to know why.

“Hi,” I said to the camera, waving a hoof. Hi, Greyscale! “So… you know who I am? I should’ve expected that.” I shifted into a more comfortable position, my hind legs splayed out in front of me. “Why are you watching, I wonder? How many out there can hear my voice? Should I be worried?” No, of course not! “I thought so. 

“Say, this hotel isn’t bad. D’you think everyone else here feels the same way? Most of them must be famous and live in swanky mansions or stately homes. Must be a real downer for them.”

I continued staring into the camera in silence. I imagined a crowd, an entire theatre-full of ponies, griffons, zebras and other races watching me on a big screen, stuttering in the style of old-school film reels. “I wonder what he’s going to say next,” one of them said to their friend. “Tell us more about yourself!” one of them shouted. Then there was a cacophony of cheers. Yes, that was surely happening. 

That sake really is something. 

“Nothing in my past really stands out,” I told the audience. “I never really did anything of note, and nobody ever really knew me. I guess I can share just a few tidbits, can’t I?

“I never really got the fascination with hot weather, you know. I can’t remember ever using the phrase ‘nice and warm,’ and if I ever did say it, I probably didn’t mean it. It’s fine warming up by the fire when there’s a chill in the air, but I never liked basking in the sun. I always thought it was a waste of time, and I never liked walking around in summer.

“This is a big secret of mine, but I’ve always had a thing for griffons. Lady griffons, of course. An entire body coated in feathers? I always wanted to cuddle up to griffons like they were big teddy bears. And they’ve got these talons, right? Sharp and deadly and powerful, but I imagine some really sweet griffon who’s really strong but super friendly. Are there any of you out there like that?”

The camera responded with dead silence. I began thinking again, wondering what I could say to them, to the thousands who were watching me. I thought of moments in the novels I read where the protagonist or villain has some clever plot up their sleeve and they just can’t contain their excitement. They know it’s going to work and they know it’s going to be big, but they can’t spill the beans. So they make a little statement, a little declaration that acts as a precursor to some wild scheme, all while the novel keeps you guessing. I wanted a taste of that power, if only for a moment.

“I’ve got a surprise in store,” I said with a wide grin. “Nobody’s going to see it coming. Not you, not anyone else in the dome, not Monobunny, not even the mastermind.” That’s it! I’ve got them in my grasp! “It’ll be something nobody’s done before. I could tell you, but that’d ruin it. Have a guess! You’ll never figure it out, I can tell you.” I had nothing in mind. This was all simply a red herring, a meaningless ploy with no grand reveal in sight. A pity, really. I was hyping up the audience for nothing. What a disappointment. But still, it was fun.

“You’ve been told that I’m the Ultimate Nobody. What if that’s not quite true? What if there’s more to me than meets the eye? I’m an Ultimate Something, that’s for sure. But what am I? If I told you right now, it’d ruin it.” “I wonder what he is!” “What could he be planning?” “I can’t wait to see what happens next!” 

“Now, now, all will be revealed eventually. Maybe I’m planning on killing someone. Who do you think it is? It could be–”

I froze. The haze in my vision dissipated. The soft pitter-patter of the water droplets became real again. In spite of the relative warmth from the shower I experienced a slight chill that emanated from my chest and reached my extremities. It was similar to my earlier experience – in the library with Sanscript – though not quite as pronounced. I could think clearly now, remember things as they were. I wasn’t drunk. I’d taken numerous gulps of water, yes, and I’d been offered a glass of sake, yes, but that was all. I wasn’t drunk. I wasn’t even tipsy. Slipping into a dreamlike state had nothing to do with intoxication – it had just happened, and I’d superimposed a false reason on top of it. I stared at the camera again, my pulse racing. The scenario I’d imagined was nothing but make-believe, yet I had fallen into it headfirst. 

I quickly got up and turned off the shower. I dried myself off with a towel and sat in bed, staring at the walls. I had my book but felt no desire to read it. There was just the quiet, and the barren insides of my own mind. I stayed that way for a long while, trying to reconcile my departure from reality. I could have remained there, in that other realm, forever. But then the thought of killing someone, the one thing that could guarantee my safety, brought my soul to its knees. 

Maybe I was going crazy. Maybe I already was crazy before I’d even got here, and this was simply the manifestation of that fact being displayed more readily. Maybe going crazy was just a part of being here, and others were feeling the same effects. But I wasn’t normal, so I had no idea what normal was. Maybe it was normal to fall into a fictional realm from time to time, maybe I was only now becoming aware of its significance. But something didn’t feel right about that theory. Insanity was the product of delusion, and I’d just fallen prey to it. 

I thought then, that this whole scenario was unreal. Fifteen participants (sixteen if Cube Rick hadn’t already perished) being taken away from their lives and forced to kill one another to escape to their old lives. It was the kind of thing a deluded mind might come up with, but I was sure it was at least real. Unlikely, unthinkable, horrible, (wonderful) but real. The danger was real. Everyone else within these walls was real. 

I pulled the duvet around myself and hugged it tightly. I began to wonder if I would ever be unable to tell fact from fiction. That one day I could reconcile the act of killing another, process it, plan it, understand all the pain all the despair it would cause, enact it, and either perish or get away scot free while everyone here would be sent to (hell) the incinerator. I didn’t want that. I never wanted that to happen. These equines were my family, they were my friends, and the only chance I’d ever had at having a life. But for just a moment, I’d viewed Sanscript’s death at my hooves an act of uproarious hilarity. For more than one moment I’d toyed with an imaginary audience who wanted a show, wanted to see blood. I had no idea who the audience was. I had no idea what I was dealing with. And I had no idea if I might forget that and drop right back into the land of make-believe. 

These thoughts rattled inside my brain until I closed my eyes and fell asleep.










 


I woke up at 08:35. I tossed and turned awhile. All I had to remember was the weapon check at 14:00. That was fine, I had time. I stayed in bed some more, my head in the clouds. 10:30. I sat back and stared at the ceiling. 11:07. Time was just ebbing away. I could go and find someone to talk to, but I was sure someone would come and find me first. That was how it had been since I’d got here, and I didn’t expect that to change. 

11:43.

I sighed deeply. I was sure someone would come knocking, come to check up on me, and the fact it wasn’t happening had me feeling down. I pulled myself out of bed and took a shower. A quick one, this time. I wasn’t about to let a repeat of the previous night occur. I looked out through the peephole and saw nothing. I stepped outside and saw nobody. I didn’t like it one bit. 

I walked down the corridor to my right. The gym was on the way, and I wondered if Yoko might be training again. I peered through the door and saw nobody. Dopple’s door was next. I knocked before I’d even thought it through and waited like a chump. After half a minute I tried knocking again, but still no-one came. A shiver ran down my spine as I imagined the entire dome being turned into a ghost town, everyone whisked away but me. I suddenly felt the want, the need to be with someone. I didn’t even care who, I just had to have company. 

Why? 

I didn’t know why. For so long I had done without it, felt nothing of others, had nothing to gain from others, but something clawed inside of me, desperately trying to break out. I missed meaning something. I turned around and headed for Lancet’s door. I knocked. 

“Hello!?” came a startled voice. “Who is it!?”

“I-It’s… it’s Greyscale,” I said weakly. The feeling of calling upon someone, being the instigator, was strange and daunting. “I just…” I took a deep breath. “If I’m being completely honest, I… I was feeling kind of lonely.”

A shuffle from behind the door. Some very faint hoof-steps. I assumed she must be looking through the peephole. The door was pulled ever so slightly ajar and Lancet’s head popped around. “Greyscale,” she said tensely. She gave me a thoughtful look. 

“I’m not armed,” I said. What a stupid thing to say! “But it’s okay if you don’t want to talk. I was… It was a stupid thing of me–” 

“No, no it wasn’t.” Lancet frowned determinedly. “Could you just give me a moment?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

Lancet closed the door, the lock engaging. I stood back, feeling as if I was encroaching on her space. She crept around the door a few seconds later, looking slightly more at ease. She took a small breath. “I was worried I’d been forgotten.”

“I thought that too,” I replied.

“I suppose it’s not healthy to stay cooped up in my room all the time. I’ve not been feeling all that well, actually.” Lancet flicked her orange mane out from her eyes and closed the door. “I keep getting these headaches. I’ve tried drinking plenty of water but that doesn’t seem to alleviate it. It must be stress.” She strained a small smile. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be making myself out as a victim, not when we’re all in this together. Shall we head downstairs?”

We ended up in the dining room to find Maribelle, Button and Elsie around one of the tables. Maribelle gave us a quick “Welcome!” while Elsie nodded curtly, her attention on a bowl of soup that she was idly working through with a small spoon. Button was wrapped around Maribelle like a cobra and his one visible eye shot open for a split-second as the door opened, then he went back to pretending to be asleep. Their ‘platonic’ relationship was starting to creep me out, a sentiment not helped at all by Maribelle’s words after Lancet and I sat down.

“I do worry so tremendously about little Button. He’s been shivering and shaking like it’s the middle of winter, and he’s ever so vulnerable in a place like this. He’s been restless, irritable, and extremely unhappy, so I had no choice, really. We slept together last night.”

Elsie almost choked on her soup, the spoon falling from her telekinetic grasp as she sputtered and gasped for air, her glasses toppling from her nose. “Wait! Wait! What did you just say!?” she cried, her jaw practically touching the table.

Maribelle looked taken aback. “He didn’t want to sleep alone. This place must be so scary for him, don’t you think? So I cuddled up next to him and it helped to calm him down. Oh, he looks so adorable when he’s sleeping, don’t you think?”

Elsie pressed a hoof against her face and shot a look in mine and Lancet’s direction that said, get a load of this basket case. “Yes, yes. But don’t you think he should learn to sleep on his own? He’s not a little colt! He’s fifteen!”

“You may be right,” Maribelle said, frowning. “I shall have to reduce the frequency with which I sleep with him.”

Button momentarily revealed his eye and glared aggressively at Elsie. He carefully and meticulously mouthed the words “fuck you, bitch” then went back to ‘sleep.’ I burst into a fit of laughter. I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t even stop giggling while Elsie reprimanded me.

“I do hope you’re not planning on making that a new habit of yours. I get enough of an earful from Inky, who seems to think this place is one big funfair. I don’t know who said you should laugh in the face of death, but they were an ignorant fool if you ask me.”

“Still,” Lancet said, “it doesn’t help anyone if we’re down in the dumps. A bit of laughter might do us some good.”

“That’s debatable,” Elsie replied glumly, taking a small mouthful of soup. “If we start having too much fun we could be falling right into Monobunny’s trap.” She sighed and dropped the spoon gently into the bowl. “I’ve been thinking about what this place really means. There’s the big question of why we were brought here. Why us? A punishment for our failings in life? Everyone has sinned, no question. But are we to be judged in such a way? Do we actually deserve it?”

“No, of course not,” Lancet said. 

“I’ll have to take your word for that, and I just can’t take your word,” Elsie replied, her eyes dark and fierce. “I can think of things I’ve done and mistakes that I’ve made. For all I know I did something that I thought was insignificant but led to someone’s life being ruined. What could be worse than a monster who has no idea what they are? But if that’s really the case, I’d want to know.

“Shetland’s last words before he was executed. He came to a conclusion, didn’t he? That killing Pinkie was the first sinful murder he’d ever committed. That can’t have been true.”

Lancet bit her lip, her forelegs shaking. “How can you be so sure?”

“I’m not sure. It’s just my instincts. Monobunny said we can try and escape as much as we want. If that’s the case, I don’t think prancing around looking for a secret exit is going to help us. I think that we’re being tested. We’re meant to figure out what we did wrong and atone for it. I just can’t fathom someone rounding us up for some sick killing game like it’s a stage-show!”

“I think you’re wrong.”

Everyone’s heads turned as Button sat up straight wearing a distressed frown.

“Button?” Maribelle said in surprise. “You’re awake?”

“Think about what you’re saying,” Button continued, prying himself away from Maribelle’s grasp and leaning over the table towards Elsie. “Let’s say you’re right and we’re all here because we pissed somebody off or whatever. What would be the point in getting us to say sorry? If they’ve gone to all the effort of building this place, wouldn’t they have done it just to watch us suffer?”

Elsie gulped loudly. “I… I don’t know.”

“Also, could all of us have pissed off the same ponies? I don’t think so. This is all just a game. But like all games there are ways to cheat. Video games have it all the time. Doesn’t matter how much time is spent making them or how good the developers are, there’s always something that slips through the net. Bugs, glitches, some of them even game-breaking! That’s what we gotta find, somehow.”

“There is another possibility,” Lancet interjected. “This place is rather odd, correct? And whomever dreamt it up must be extremely eccentric, correct? While my profession lies in medical procedures, I do have some knowledge of mental illnesses and unorthodox dispositions. Eccentric creatures often want to prove themselves to be better than others. They want someone to notice how clever they are. So I think, the key to getting out of here is to unravel a mystery.”

“What mystery?” Maribelle asked.

“The mystery of why we’re here, who is responsible for our incarceration, our connection to each other, or perhaps something else that nobody here has even thought of.”

“A novel thought,” Elsie said with a shrug. “But where do we begin to solve this mystery?”

“It could have something to do with the books in the library, or even something in the MonoMart. There’s that statue outside, or maybe there’s something still hidden. It could just be an exercise in connecting the dots.” 

“That simple, huh?” Elsie retorted drolly. “We’d best get a head-start on reading then since there’s only a thousand or so books here.”

The atmosphere quickly turned sour and oppressive. Nobody spoke for a while. Our eyes and our minds were elsewhere. The horrific and hopeless reality that we faced had been reinstated. Each theory was filled with possibility and implausibility. I considered all three and cast them out in quick succession. There was simply no proof of any of them. And yet an even crazier theory leapt into my mind, one that made even less sense, had even less proof, but had an indescribably concrete feel to it. Right or wrong, nobody else could know what I was thinking. 

Nobody except Monobunny. 

“I liked it better when we were in high spirits,” Maribelle eventually said, breaking the silence. “This might come off as rather, how do you say, optimistic, but I wonder if we should entertain a particular thought of mine all the same.”

“Sure,” Elsie said distantly. “It can’t be any crazier than what I’ve already heard.”

“Right.” Maribelle took a deep breath and readied herself. “I think everyone here is rather nice.”

“Not a good start,” Elsie interrupted with, shaking her head slightly. “But keep going.”

“Well,” Maribelle said, now blushing. “This may be difficult to grasp, and I imagine not everyone will agree to begin with, but if we all wish to remain safe and sound we should all just ignore the killing game completely. We could start a new life here! We have plenty of food, water, even a doctor on standby if any–”

Elsie slammed onto the table with both hooves and got up. Her eyes and teeth were clenched and a small tear began running down her cheek. Her back to us all, she began to speak in a harsh, snarling tone. “Congratulations, Maribelle. You just proved me wrong. That is the most batshit insane idea I’ve ever heard! Just because you have nothing important in your pathetic life doesn’t mean it’s the same for all of us! I would rather work my hooves to the bone trying to get out of this asylum than make do with sitting on my ass listening to a bunch of psychos!” Elsie slammed the door behind her and fled to the stairwell. 

Maribelle looked utterly downtrodden. She sniffed, a sudden and enormous flow of tears erupting from her reddened eyes. 

“Maribelle,” Lancet began softly, walking over to the mare and putting a hoof on her shoulder. “Don’t let her get to you. She’s just cranky.”

“I only wanted to help,” Maribelle said meekly. 

Button held onto her neck and kissed her cheek affectionately. “She can get lost!” he spat angrily. “She’s horrible to everyone! I don’t see why we put up with her! Nopony makes my sweet Maribelle mad! Nobody!”

Wait, did Button just say…?

“Try to understand,” Lancet said. “Elsie is frustrated. She probably leads a busy life and being in here gives her nothing to do. She’s bound to lash out.”

“Okay,” Maribelle replied. “I understand what you mean.”

The moment to call Button out was gone. But why? Pinkie had used that word before, and now Button, but he corrected himself. Does this mean something? Why would he say that?

The double doors opened and in stepped Mesmer, Dopple and Sanscript. Dopple had leapt to Maribelle’s side as Lancet briefly explained the situation (leaving out Maribelle’s ‘plan’) while Mesmer and Sanscript turned their attention to me.

“There you are,” Mesmer said blankly. “It’s almost time for our group’s weapon check. It needs to be four of us, remember?”

“About that,” Sanscript said. “Shouldn’t we have something in place should anyone go missing? I don’t suppose each group should keep tabs on each other for the whole day, am I right?”

“We’ll figure that out later,” Mesmer replied. “Now come on, we might as well get this over with.” Without waiting for anyone else he started walking down the hallway.

Sanscript watched Mesmer move out of sight then came close to me. “What did I tell you?” he whispered. “You should be keeping an eye on Mesmer.”

“Sorry,” I replied, unsure what I even had to be sorry for. “I’ve not been up for very long.”

“He’s suspicious of me for hanging around,” Sanscript continued. “I’ve been trying to figure out if he’s up to something.” He looked over his shoulder to see that Dopple was looking in our direction and straightened up. “Right, we should all get moving, correct?”

“Yes,” Dopple answered. “Sorry to leave you, Maribelle, but we have an important job to do.”

“That’s okay. Thank you, really,” Maribelle said, smiling.

The three of us met with Mesmer in the entrance lobby. We were just about to leave when I remembered something I wanted to do. “Um, just before we do that, I wanted to ask Monobunny something.”

“Really?” Mesmer said. I half-expected him to dismiss my request and pull me onwards, but instead he shrugged. “Go ahead.”

“Um…” I pawed at the ground. “I’d rather ask him in private.”

Now I was certain that Mesmer would insist on staying, and I’d have to ask a more trivial question. But again, he surprised me. “I see,” he said with a grin. “Then the three of us shall wait by the entrance. Dopple? Sanscript? Let’s give him some peace.”

Sanscript’s eyes flashed between us and he furrowed his brow in confusion. Dopple appeared unfazed. “Don’t make us wait for long,” she said, smiling. “More than a few minutes and we’ll start to worry.”

I nodded, and suddenly I was left all on my own. I opened the entrance ever so slightly to check that they weren’t about to eavesdrop, but they’d done exactly as they’d said and walked well outside earshot. I took a deep breath and pressed the brass bell that would summon Monobunny. Within ten seconds the black and white rabbit appeared from one of the doors, skipped over and stood on top of the welcome desk. 

“You rang?” he said, the ‘rang’ being drawn out into a long, sinister inflection. 

“Yeah, I have a question,” I replied.

“Well I should hope so! That’s what this thing is for! But I also hope it’s a good question. Come on, let’s hear it!”

“Was this place made just for me?”

Monobunny was still and silent. He remained that way for at least fifteen seconds while I waited, unnerved by his inaction. Next, he folded his arms made an odd breathing sound. “That’s an extremely odd question. Wasn’t expecting that one at all. You’ve taken me off guard here.” His voice had changed slightly. Instead of the snide, mocking tone I was so used to, he sounded much more casual, like his entire demeanor was just an act that had slipped away momentarily. 

“But is it true though?” I reiterated.

“No, it’s not true,” he said, shaking his head. I breathed a sigh of annoyance. My crazy theory was just that, a crazy theory. “Why would you think that?”

“I… I don’t know,” I replied.

“Sheesh. I thought you had a few screws loose after your ramblings in the shower but maybe you’re even screwier than I thought.” He chuckled to himself. Not a shrieking chuckle, not the kind we’d been exposed to before but a soft, more genuine chuckle. “It’s an interesting question though, I’ll give it that.”

I smiled without thought. “Really?”

“But also arrogant. And self-centered. And stupid. Not to mention positively cuckoo!” And just like that, the old Monobunny was back. “Why would anyone make this place just for you? If I’d wanted to send you to some twisted heaven I’d have rounded up a hundred hot young griffon prostitutes and have them bop you to death! Now there’s an idea that would make audiences go wild! Ah, ah, but don’t go thinking that’ll be your execution if you get voted off during a trial. That’d be unfair, don’t you think? Especially after Shetland got beaten into a bloody pulp!”

I rolled my eyes. “If I’m wrong then I should go,” I said disappointedly. “No need to listen to you insult me.”

“I’ll be waiting for your next interesting question!” Monobunny screeched, waving with one paw. “Make it a good one! One that’ll leave me positively speechless!”

I slammed the door behind me before he could finish and plodded off to the group. “Hope you learned something useful,” Mesmer said. I simply walked past. “I guess not.”

The weapon check went as expected. Nothing had been taken and the painted numbers remained exactly as they were since the beginning. I was almost disappointed. 

“Greyscale, are you okay?” Dopple asked once we were done. 

“I’m fine. Monobunny was just being an ass.”

“That’s not like you to speak in such a way,” Dopple said, matching my walking speed. “At the risk of repeating myself, please, if you ever want to talk to someone, I’m all ears.”

“No,” I replied, coming off a little colder than anticipated. 

Dopple sighed sadly. “I’ll leave you alone then.” With a sudden spread of her wings she dashed up in front of me and leapt into the air causing a powerful wind blast. My mane was flung backwards and the parasols stuck to the outside picnic tables were sent into pendulum-like swings. In just two seconds she had reached the roof of the hotel and hopped down out of sight.

“What did you say to her?” Sanscript asked after he’d caught up. 

“I… I just said I didn’t want to talk to her,” I answered, my mind replaying Dopple’s powerful display of speed and grace over and over again. It was a stunning reminder of what she was capable of.

“She’s been fine all day,” Mesmer said, eyeing me suspiciously. “I think you upset her. She’s been talking about you, you know.”

“What?” 

“Yes.” Mesmer nodded. “She said we could use your help. But if you ask me, she probably wished you’d be a bit nicer to her, especially after she’s made such an effort to be friendly to you.”

A lump formed in my throat. “I didn’t…”

“It’s okay, I’m sure she’ll get over it. Just be careful next time.” We reached the entrance lobby. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need some time to myself.” He walked through the left-hand door and to his room without looking back.

I exhaled deeply and dropped to the floor. “Did I really hurt her feelings?”

“I’m not so sure,” Sanscript said, stroking his chin. “I think she was looking for an excuse to get away from Mesmer. That stallion follows her around like a stalker and I think it was getting to her. Like I said before, that’s why you should be keeping an eye on him!”

“If I do that then I’m just a stalker like him,” I replied, deflated. “I guess nobody has any clue what the right thing to do is.”

“Now, now, don’t start thinking like that.” Sanscript walked in front as we took the right-hand hallway. “Positivity is the age-old cure for everything. Why, you should be a little more like…”

Sanscript trailed off as he turned the corner and ground to a halt. His eyes shot open, like curtains being flung to each side to reveal a summer’s day. His jaw was drooping. He brought a quivering hoof to his mouth, patches of red appearing on his blueish cheeks. “Oh m-my word,” he said shakily. “I-it’s happened again…”

I turned the same corner apprehensively and looked to the other end of the corridor. The door to the utility room was open. Inside, we could clearly see Inky, outstretched, her body vertical, her hind-hooves dangling almost a foot from the floor.

She was hanging from a metal exercise bar.









































“Well hey there!” Inky called jubilantly, pulling herself up on the bar and stretching her hind legs from side to side in an extremely revealing fashion. She was wearing a pair of sunglasses. “Fancy seeing you here! I was just doing a few exercises.” She began thrusting her hips, an enormous grin on her face. “But it’s nice of you to drop by, Professor Sanscript! I’ve been working on my form, just like you said!”

“Of all the–!” Sanscript grabbed me by the shoulders with a crazed fervor. “I’ve no idea what she’s talking about! I never asked her to do this! Heavens above, she was doing this earlier when I left my room this morning!”

“Oh, hey Greyscale!” Inky called. “I’d love to chat, but I wanted to share some very important details with Professor Sanscript. Just between us.”

“For the last time, I’m not a Professor!” Sanscript bellowed, his cheeks flaring. “Whatever possesses you to do this, my dear, I have no clue, but you’re making a mockery of yourself! A little bit of decency would go a long, long way.”

“You’ll have to teach me!” Inky exclaimed, dropping to the floor and stretching her limbs, an audible click being emitted as she did so. 

“Yes. Well.” Sanscript cleared his throat. “Firstly, gyrating like that gives a rather perplexing message to anyone passing by. You would do well to, um, well…” Sanscript ruffled his mane, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. “To not put yourself on display in such a fashion.” His face had turned a new shade of crimson. “Secondly, why are you wearing sunglasses indoors?”

Inky bounded down the hallway towards us and took off her jet-black sunglasses. “Oh, these things? Aren’t they cool!? Found ‘em in the MonoMart earlier today. There’s some real crazy stuff in there, you know?”

“Should you really be going in there alone?” Sanscript asked. “My dear, that’s the one place our murder checks would be rendered obsolete!”

“Then come in me, I mean, come with me next time!” Inky cried cheerily, pumping a hoof in the air.

“I suppose it would be safer in that case if… Wait, what!?”

Before another word could be spoken, Monobunny’s voice could be heard all around us.

“Attention everyone! I have something to share with all of you. Please make your way to the dining hall within the next fifteen minutes. Failure to comply with this request will result in painful punishment! So don’t be late! Ciao!”

“I feel sorry for anyone on the toilet,” Inky said mirthfully. “Like, they’re trying to clean themselves up as fast as possible then Monobunny tackles them in the bathroom!”

“I do wish you’d take this more seriously, Miss Slinger,” Sanscript said gruffly, charging towards the dining room. “Come right now!”

“Believe me, I would if I could!” Inky replied. She turned to me. “Is he clueless or what?” she whispered. “You gotta ask him what he likes, what turns him on, stuff like that. I’m trying all I can and he’s not even busting a semi!” 

“I’ll… see what I can do?” I said unsurely. 

We made our way into the dining hall and sat down. Monobunny was stood at the far end with a stack of paper. It wasn’t long before everyone had arrived, Elsie trudging in last, purposefully avoiding eye contact with Maribelle and Button. Dopple appeared as she always did, not looking distressed or angry. I had to wonder if she was merely good at hiding it, and whether I owed her an apology. 

“Well, now that we’re all here, I’ll hand out these news articles!” Monobunny began leaping from table to table, giving each one of us a single piece of paper with words and black-and-white pictures printed on each side. “Now, before we begin, I’d like to make something very, very clear. The events depicted in this news story are real, and these are copies from a real, official news publication. The only changes that have been made are the omissions of certain details like names and so on. Let me reiterate: this has actually happened.”

We all buried ourselves into our papers. As the minutes passed there were more frequent murmurings and terrified expressions. I worked my way through it, my heart beating faster and faster as I did so. 

“What is this supposed to mean!?” Reph exclaimed, his nerves shot. “Why are you showing us this!?”

“That’s for me to know, and you lot to figure out.”

Out of all of it, three words repeated themselves over in my mind, the three words with the most terrifying of implications. Three little words in one of the photographs that made for the most chilling of dying messages, written in blood.


 



H E L L  
I S  
R E A L

> Mercy Killing
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


MASSACRE AT ROYAL CARE CENTER



 


At just after 08:00am on [------------------] a care-worker (who wishes to remain anonymous) for the Royal [------------] Care Center for foals called the police after being unable to enter the building and receiving no reply when attempting to contact by telephone. When officers arrived on the scene all windows were closed and every set of curtains had been drawn despite the center’s all-year-round active state. After failing to rouse anyone through other methods the officers forced entry through the main entrance to discover the site’s founder, owner and head caretaker, Mrs. [------------] dead in the lobby, her forelegs slit by a knife which was found next to her body.



The black-and-white photos directly next to this paragraph showed a picture of the center’s owner: a cheerful, beautiful young pegasus mare with a soft-colored mane that swept back over her head in a perfect arc. The other photo was of the center itself, a rectangular brick building that looked to be about five times the size of the dome’s hotel. A sign was situated outside the entrance on a patch of grass next to a blooming flowerbed, though once again, a specific word had been deliberately blanked out.



Upon searching the rest of the building, the officers made a horrific discovery. In each of the rooms occupied by the foals and young griffons taken under care, all eighty-five children had been murdered, most of them from a knife wound to the throat. Some suffered multiple chest wounds while a rare few had a multitude of knife wounds across their bodies. In these cases, there were apparent signs of a struggle. Also found dead was [------------]’s husband and the site’s co-founder, Mr. [--------------], known locally as [----------]. He was found slumped over his desk in the head office, his throat slit. The couple had run the site since [--------] while also living there as full-time caretakers.

The center was established on [-------------------] by the couple to provide for orphans, children whose parents had been deemed unsuitable and those who had suffered from trauma or disability. Another seven members of staff also worked there as caretakers, cooks, or at times for general upkeep of the building and its facilities. At their request, their identities will not be published, and all have been put onto a regulated therapy course. The center has seen visits from [----------------------] and [---------------------] among other high-profile visitors, and the two owners have received numerous accolades and personal thanks from all over Equestria for their hard work in helping youngsters with seemingly no hope to get their lives on track.

The police have determined that Mrs. [------------] was the perpetrator of the crime, first killing her husband after the other caretakers had gone home before proceeding into each of the children’s rooms and killing them while they slept. Security footage from inside the center backs up this theory in addition to various knife wounds and blood trails left on the walls and floor throughout the complex. Mrs. [------------] then left behind a message written on a page torn from the check-in book which reads: ‘I did this to save them. You have to believe me. I swear upon my soul, upon everything and everyone, I did this out of pure kindness. Please forgive me!’ She then committed suicide after her murderous rampage by slitting her forelegs, writing the words ‘HELL IS REAL’ in blood on the lobby floor shortly before passing out and dying.



Next, a harrowing photograph was included showing those three words written with desperation on the floor tiles. The memory of my own suicide attempt flashed before my eyes. A chill ran up my spine and I stifled a vomit.



“I cannot fathom why [------------] would do this,” said one of the locals who lived nearby. “I met with her on several occasions and she was an absolute delight. She doted on those foals like they were her own and treated them with a kindness beyond any I have known. I honestly don’t know what to think of her at this point. She was a pillar of the community and now that community has been ripped apart. I keep hoping one day I wake up and it was all just a terrible nightmare.”

A close friend of [------------]’s, Miss [---------------------] – well known as a member of the [----------------] – was held in police custody after she attacked numerous officers and news reporters, claiming that her friend must be innocent. She states, “She ([------------]) would never have done such a thing. There has to be a mistake. The police don’t know what they’re doing and are letting the real killer get away.” Despite the mountains of evidence and security footage of Mrs. [------------] walking down the hallways with a blood-stained knife in addition to the murder of her husband in the office and her suicide in the lobby, [---------------------] has remained loyal to her deceased friend and insisted that the tapes must either be fake, or there is another, as of yet undiscovered theory. Currently she is being considered for psychiatric evaluation and, if she is deemed mentally unstable, may not face charges for her various accounts of assault. 

Some have speculated that [------------] may have become involved with an extremist cult and committed this atrocity out of an ingrained belief that this would somehow ‘save’ the children. However, information on [------------]’s life seems to suggest that she rarely left the grounds after its opening, and when she did so she was always with others. Searches of the complex have also revealed no evidence of extremist texts or other paraphernalia, leading some to question the times spent in her youth.

Inspection on earlier security footage shows [------------] acting normally throughout the day of the massacre, her demeanor changing drastically after a twenty-minute visit to her office, of which the interior has no security feed. She is then seen walking haggardly and in immense distress to one of the staff restrooms. A while later she is then seen walking into the kitchen area and taking one of the knives. Still in a visibly disturbed state she returns to the office where her husband is.

Esteemed psychologist Dr. [---------] had this to say regarding the footage: “It is clear that [------------] was fully aware of what she was doing. Her expressions and body language show that she is utterly distraught by the deaths of her husband and the children, yet still she carries out their murders like an important duty. Towards the end of the murder spree and during her suicide she appears completely drained, somewhat accepting of what she has done. It is in my opinion based on the evidence that she carried out this massacre with the sincere belief that she was doing the right thing. She didn’t want to, but she felt as if she must.”

Research into [------------]’s past showed very little in the way of psychological issues with the exception of a spate at the age of thirteen where she suffered anxiety and panic attacks induced after she was supposedly tortured by an unknown attacker. No evidence for this attack exists as [------------] was entirely unharmed, and she eventually recovered from her anxiety after around two months. It is unknown if the two incidents of psychological issues are connected as of yet. Some, however, speculate that [------------] may have been suffering from undiagnosed depression after the disappearance of [--------------------------------] whose whereabouts are still unknown.

The center itself has been placed under police jurisdiction with no unauthorized citizens allowed within twenty meters of the grounds. Anyone caught breaking the police boundaries or attempting to tamper with the site will face criminal charges. A memorial service is set to be held on [---------------] at the [----------------------]. Patrons are welcome to bring wreaths, flowers, or messages of kind words. A separate funeral service for [------------] and her husband is, as of yet, unplanned, but word is that it will take place privately for close friends of the deceased so as to avoid the event being sabotaged.

Article written by [----------------]

 

I finished the article a second time and caught my breath. I felt as if I’d been for a run at the dead of night. The story itself was horrifying enough, but I also knew that there was a reason why Monobunny was showing us this. Whatever had happened here, it had to be connected to our current situation in one form or another.

Dish Panner crumpled up her sheet of paper and lightly tossed it onto the floor, rubbing the bridge of her nose and exhaling wearily. “Cute story,” she said sardonically. “Whatever it is you’re trying to pull, I’m unimpressed.”

“Wow,” Monobunny said plainly. “A critic who’s not happy. What next? An iceberg that’s cold? A tree made of wood?”

“Quite the pathetic comeback,” Dish Panner replied. “While it is certainly horrific, I don’t see how this article is meant to affect us in any way, shape, or form. We’ve already been thrown into this game of yours, so I don’t see how this is supposed to scare us even more. We don’t even know the names of the killer or the victims. Does anyone here know who they could be? Speak up if so.”

The room remained quiet.

“Then my point stands,” Dish Panner affirmed. “This is just low-grade scare tactics and we should all forget it and carry on as usual. Doesn’t everyone agree?”

Mesmer smirked, uttering a tiny chortle. “One doth protest too much.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You have a little too much to say about something that apparently doesn’t bother you,” Mesmer continued, fixing Dish Panner with a steely gaze. “Maybe you’re the one who knows something about this. Or, you’re trying to deny that you’re scared. Or maybe you think this is a good way to get others to trust you. After all, you’ve done a great job trying to instill a feeling of hope in the group, right?”

Dish Panner’s cheeks flared up as she scowled back. “Why are you turning on me!?”

“Now, now.” Lancet, Sanscript and Maribelle each said a few words to calm the situation. As this was going on my eyes turned to Inky. She appeared to be enraptured – almost obsessively so – with the news article. She paid no attention to anyone else as her eyes darted from left to right, wearing an expression of calm concentration. It wasn’t a look I ever expected to see from her.

“I get it now,” Dish Panner said with a snide grin of her own, combing a hoof through her bobbed mane. “I think you know a lot more about this story than anyone else. It’s obvious when you think about it, really. A pretty little innocent mare turning into a psychopath at the drop of a hat. What do you suppose could cause that? Hypnosis!” She pointed an angry hoof in Mesmer’s direction amidst an outburst of gasps. “What do you have to say to that?”

Mesmer had very little reaction, merely raising an eyebrow and tilting his head. “First of all, I don’t think you actually believe that. You’re not that stupid. If you did believe it, your attitude seems rather suspect. If there was someone present who I believed was evil, psychotic and dangerous enough to cause the deaths of an entire building full of orphans I certainly wouldn’t be treating them like a school student flinging petty insults in the playground. Frankly, I’d be terrified. But by all means, let me know if you genuinely think I’m a monster and we’ll discuss how troubling your behavior is.”

Dish Panner let out a snort and turned away, her lips tensed. As much as Mesmer could be arrogant and demeaning, I couldn’t help but respect his ability to overthrow almost every comment that came his way. 

“No, I didn’t hypnotize the mare in the article, whomever she is. While I would at least be capable, through hypnotic suggestion and mind-altering spells, to be able to implant ideas into someone’s head, resulting in them performing a series of actions, to within a certain degree, at least, the events as described in the article do not correlate with such a thing. If we are to take the report as entirely fact-based, carrying out a series of killings while displaying immense stress and emotional turmoil is at odds with the effects of being put into a trance. If that were the case, she would’ve walked down the halls with a more-or-less blank expression, and definitely not with a nervous disposition that culminates in being emotionally drained. Like the report said, she appeared to know exactly what she was doing.”

“That still makes you sound creepy,” Copper said, biting her lip. “Controlling others with magic that messes with their mind.”

“Every such case in my line of work is done only with consent,” Mesmer replied. “Legally, there are numerous hoops to jump through, and my sessions are recorded and logged should I ever attempt something untoward.”

“I see,” Copper said quietly, shooting me a quick glance as if to tell me something. “But I’m sure you’re smart enough to get away with something if you really wanted to.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never tried.” Mesmer lifted up his news article. “Now can we finally discuss the news story in question? If nobody here was involved or knows who these mystery ponies might be, there must be something else that we can glean from this that’s of importance to us. Right, Monobunny?”

“Correct!”

“But you’re not going to tell us?”

“Absolutely not! Like I said, this news story covers real, actual events. While they may seem to be entirely unconnected to the killing game, there is one, teeny tiny part of it that actually has a big connection to it. And it’s up to all of you to figure out what that is!”

“Does the spy know?” Dopple asked. 

“Oh yes, the spy knows very well why this news story is significant, but they’ve been instructed not to tell anyone.”

“Okay,” Dopple said, scanning the paper. “Aside from the spy, then, are the rest of us guaranteed to find out the truth eventually?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that. After all, I don’t know what the future holds!”

“Her dying message,” Sanscript mused, stroking his chin anxiously. “Hell is real. What could that mean? Do you think it has something to do with the message on the bronze statue? ‘The grim reaper circles. Speak not of this heaven lest you be plunged into hell.’”

“I don’t believe in hell,” Elsie interjected sharply. “If there’s any connection between that statue and this news story, I say the cult who got to this mare and made her do those awful things are responsible for this killing game. It’s the same sadistic mindset.”

“Not really,” Lancet said. “If the idea is that we’re supposed to kill in order to survive and escape, what part of the news story relates to that? She didn’t kill them to be free or to survive since she took her own life.”

“Being free can mean many things,” Sanscript said. “What if she thought that by doing this she would go to heaven in the afterlife? Or rather, what if she thought that she’d be sending her husband and each of these children to heaven? In her suicide note she wrote about it being an act of kindness, that she was doing it to save them.”

“Alternatively,” Dish Panner said, her complexion still frazzled from her spat with Mesmer, “she might not have thought she was sending them to heaven, but merely saving them from hell. Otherwise, why write ‘hell is real’ when you could write ‘heaven is real’? Surely that would make more sense.”

“Yeesh,” Yoko uttered, rubbing at his temples. He puffed out his cheeks, looking as if he might lose his lunch. “This is completely messed up. Scary to think how warped a mind can get.”

“It’s not unheard of,” Mesmer said. “Depending on this mare’s beliefs, she might well have been making the most altruistic choice possible.”

“How can you say that?” Maribelle said, aghast. “We are talking about the murder of foals!”

“As I said, it’s not unheard of,” Mesmer said. “There have been numerous cases of mothers who kill their own children out of kindness.”

“Maybe,” Copper said bleakly, “if the child is suffering and constantly in pain, then I could understand it. But the way this center is described makes it seem like they led happy lives. How is it kind to end them?”

Mesmer bowed his head morosely. “Depending on one’s beliefs, it very well could be. Let me pose this question: what is the definition of kindness? To me, it is the act of giving something up in order for someone else to benefit, like finding a lost wallet out on the street and returning it or working towards an expensive gift that you’ll never get to enjoy yourself. It’s about sacrifice. If you aren’t losing something in exchange for someone else, then it isn’t truly kindness.

“Back to the news story. Let’s suppose that the mare in question held strong religious beliefs. She believes in a heaven and a hell, and that those who are evil or corrupted will end up in hell when they die while the innocent will be saved and sent to heaven.”

“That’s not what happens!” Maribelle exclaimed irately. “The Holy Goddess would never create a land of eternal suffering!”

“I’m not claiming it to be true,” Mesmer replied. “But let’s assume the mare in the article believes it. Act righteously and go to a land of happiness, commit heinous acts and spend an eternity burning in a fire. So then, if that’s the case, who would, statistically, be the most innocent of all? Who would, having been given no chance to commit horrible acts, be the most likely to go to heaven?”

“Children,” Lancet answered grimly.

“Correct,” Mesmer said. “The younger you are, the less likely you are to be corrupted by the outside world, the less likely you are to commit acts of violence, treachery and selfishness. By that logic, the best possible fate for all children would be to die quickly and painlessly at a young age.”

“And end their chance at life!?” Maribelle blared. She was growing increasingly distressed with each passing moment. 

“How?” Mesmer shot back uncaringly. “What is seventy-odd years in the imperfect land of Equestria compared with an infinite number of years in a land of perfection? And so, with this line of thinking, the mare slaughtered the children, desperate to save them from going to hell.”

“Hang on,” Elsie said. “I thought murder was considered the ultimate sin? Wouldn’t she be sending herself to hell in the process?”

“Exactly,” Mesmer said. “She sends herself to hell, but she saves many others whom she cares about. Inflicting the ultimate punishment on herself – an unimaginable existence of pain and torture – for the sake of others. True kindness requires sacrifice. If her actions allowed her entry into heaven, there would be no sacrifice. In that sense, you could say that she truly embodies the Ultimate Kindness.”

“How awful!” Maribelle cried, her eyes reddened and glassy. “You speak of nothing but cruelty and madness! No creature would ever do such a thing!”

“Actually,” Inky interjected, lifting her head from the paper she’d been poring over with absolute scrutiny. Her expression was taut and serious. “What Mesmer’s describing isn’t anything new. There’ve been plenty of reports throughout history of mothers who kill their own kids for that exact reason. Often it’s because of an outsider, maybe a significant other, maybe something else, that they consider to be a bad influence, so they kill their kids before they can be corrupted. It’s been well documented.”

Maribelle didn’t reply. She merely shut her eyes forcefully and held onto Button, whose expression was one of confused wonder.

“How very… ahem, astute,” Sanscript said anxiously. “You r-really do know your stuff, Miss Slinger.”

“Thanks,” Inky replied with a brief shrug. “But couldn’t you try chatting me up some other time? All this talk of dead children and torture doesn’t really set the mood.” Her expression was deadpan. 

“Q-quite right! I apologize!” Sanscript said bashfully, bowing his head. 

“We don’t know if your theory is true,” Dish Panner pointed out. “It’s all just speculation. What’s to say that this ‘hell’ she wrote about is the literal hell mentioned in religious texts? It could mean something else entirely.”

“Then what?” Sanscript asked. “Could the mare have known about this killing game? Could it be that the children of the care center were destined to become involved in one, so she took action?”

“That’s a terrifying thought,” Lancet said, her face pale. “Is our existence here really a hell that is worse than death?”

“Doctor Scalpel,” Dopple began. “That’s a dangerous line of thinking.”

“But you saw what happened to Shetland,” Lancet replied ominously. “Was his fate, really, truly, better than dying in his sleep?”

“This is a disaster,” Mesmer said, shaking his head. “If you give in to such fears you are only hindering the efforts to get out of this place.”

“Pfft,” Yoko chided, giving Mesmer a sour, disappointed look. “Because you’re doing so much to keep us in good spirits, right? And how much headway have you made in getting us out of here? Huh? Genius?”

“In actual fact,” Mesmer said, “I do have an idea or two.”

“Well then, let’s hear it!” Yoko said, crossing his forehooves. “Tell us all so we can get out of here.”

Mesmer sighed annoyedly. “It’s not that simple. If I go running my mouth it’ll be easy for the mastermind to plan ahead and stop us. I dare say we’d only get one chance, and I plan to make it count.”

I eyed Mesmer closely. Could he really have figured a way out of here? I wondered. Or is he just trying to instill hope so we don’t go crazy? Or is he hoping he’ll find a way out eventually?

“Pu-hu-hu-hu!” Monobunny clutched at his chest, cackling like an evil witch. “For anyone to think they’ve found a way out of the dome in just a few days is kind of amusing. But also sad, very tragic and sad. Not that–”

“I have a question,” Inky interrupted, looking straight at Monobunny. “This article. Which publication was it originally printed in?”

“Ah, now that one I can answer. It’s from the Canterlot Standard!”

Inky looked back over the article for a brief moment before firmly placing it on the table and sitting back, her forelegs crossed. “No.”

“What do you mean, no!?”

“As in, no, it’s not from the Canterlot Standard,” Inky said diplomatically.

“Wait,” Copper asked. “You mean you’ve seen this article somewhere else before? You should have told us!”

“I’ve never seen it before in my life,” Inky said. “But the typography here is all wrong. The type of ink used, the letter spacing…”

“You are aware this is just a copy of the article, not the genuine article? Pun very much intended!”

“I know that, dipshit,” Inky said dismissively. “The type of paper used is completely different. That doesn’t mean there isn’t some measure with which I can analyze it. When you say copy, you mean a direct copy, right? Not a re-written sample that’s been manipulated?”

“Well, no…” Monobunny squirmed uncomfortably. “The only alteration is the blanking out of certain names and information. Other than that, it’s a direct copy, everything to scale.”

“Then it’s not Canterlot Standard,” Inky repeated. “The layout, the ink spreads on the pictures… The font is virtually identical, but I say virtually, not entirely. Whether that was caused by the copying process, I don’t know, but there are some tiny differences. I have possibly the best eyesight in all of Equestria and over the years I’ve learned to trust it. The only way I’m wrong is if your copying process is beyond shoddy, which kind of calls your claim into question. Either that or, like I said, it’s not from the Standard. Either way, for someone who claims to always speak the truth, you’ve just given out false information.”

It seemed I wasn’t the only one taken aback by Inky’s newfound attitude. Sanscript looked on as if he were witnessing an otherworldly event, making an audible gulp in the process. Now I understood how someone so carefree could be the Ultimate Reporter. I could see now that when it was necessary, she could buckle down and take on her work with an astounding level of scrutiny and diligence. 

“As much as you might protest, I still stand by my original comments. This is one hundred percent an article from the Canterlot Standard and the copying procedure is extremely accurate.”

“Then you’re being lied to,” Inky said matter-of-factly. “Honesty doesn’t always mean truth; that’s an important lesson that reporting will teach ya.”

“I don’t claim to be all-seeing and all-knowing,” Monobunny said, sounding genuinely irate, “but you would do better than to criticize where I get my information from.”

“Inky,” Mesmer said, appearing unusually tense. “Are you absolutely positive of this?”

“I already said I was,” Inky said, rolling her eyes. “I’d know a Canterlot Standard article from a mile away. Don’t know what to make of this article now.”

Mesmer’s reaction was disturbing, to say the least. Ever since arriving in the dome he had been careful and deliberate in his movements, his voice unshaken, his eyes cold and piercing. But for just a short while this behavior fell, and fell hard. As the others began engaging in new conversations, deliberating on the validity and meaning of the article, I watched him. His eyelids began to flutter erratically, his eyes darting about the place, his pupils dilated. His jaw was clenched, raising his cheekbones. He shivered several times, barely raising his hooves. And all throughout this I could feel that he was doing everything in his power to stay calm, to hold back the terror that was overtaking his body. I locked eyes with him for a mere second, and that’s when I knew. He had figured something out, something big. And for whatever reason, it was Inky’s statement, not the article itself, that had done it.

I’d also come to a realization of my own. It had happened while reading through the article a third time as everyone else was bickering. An apparently throwaway line existed in the article that nobody had brought up. It stated that the murderous mare had suffered a bout of trauma at a young age, one in which she was supposedly tortured. According to the records, nothing had happened to her. There was no evidence of said torture, just her own claims. I tried to imagine the scenario, a young filly desperately crying about a horrific experience but nobody believing her, chalking it up to mere paranoid delusion. Then as time goes on she eventually comes to accept this ‘truth,’ that she’d just imagined it. And so she gets on with her life and never goes crazy again. That is, until one day she murders the ones she loves most in cold blood. Once I thought of it as such, the answer was as clear as day.

“I j-just need to use the r-restroom,” Mesmer said abruptly. “I think we’ve gleaned all we can f-from this futile exercise.” He walked slowly, almost cautiously through the center of the room. “We should get back to finding an escape route as soon as possible. I’ll be back shortly,” he said as he left.

“Good riddance,” Elsie said, just above a whisper. “Everything that stallion says freaks me out. And to think, he fancies himself as our leader.”

“That’s rather unfair,” Dopple said, looking concerned. 

“I don’t know why you trust him,” Elsie replied haughtily, adjusting her glasses. “He–”

“I have to go too!” I exclaimed, clambering from my seat. “I… I need to use the restroom also.”

The room was eerily silent as I left. They all probably knew I was lying. I didn’t care. I wanted to speak to Mesmer. No, I felt I needed to. I barreled down the hallway towards Mesmer’s room, catching him just in time before he reached his door. I knew it then, despite his plodding, calm walking speed in the dining hall, he had charged like a bull the moment he was out of sight. 

“Mesmer!” I cried out, catching my breath. His back was to me, his right hoof reaching for the keycard around his neck. “Mesmer, I need to check something.”

“What?” He still kept his back to me. “Be mindful of what you say.”

“I think I figured out the article.”

Mesmer remained still and silent for a few seconds before turning to me. He looked – almost ­– back to his old self. “Speak. But do not reveal all.”

I didn’t understand why he was so adamant about keeping information secret. But I assumed he must have known something that gave him a very good reason. So I played along. “The bit in the article, the previous trauma she had.”

“Yes.”

“The one responsible is also–”

“So you figured that out.” Mesmer exhaled slightly. I understood then that he knew. I needn’t say another word. Whoever was responsible for the mare’s trauma, whoever had tortured her at a young age, had made contact with her again on the day of the massacre. ‘Hell’ was what she had experienced, at least in her own mind. The perpetrator of that ‘hell’ had threatened to do the same to everyone in the care center. No, more than that, their fate would be worse, far worse than what the mare had already suffered. A being sadistic enough to plant a seed in the mind of such a kind mare, only to watch with glee at all the suffering they caused. A being sadistic enough to devise a killing game like the one we were in right now.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” I asked. “You went off on a tangent. You didn’t even mention–”

“Why do you think?” Mesmer asked condescendingly. “For all your apparent puzzle-solving abilities you can be an absolute moron. I’m hoping you didn’t tell them before coming here.”

I shook my head, rather incensed but also understanding of Mesmer’s insult.

“Good. So, anything else?”

I took a deep breath and swallowed. My throat was dry. If anything’s going to send him into a blind rage, this might be it. But I need to know… “Something scared you in there, and... I think I know what it is.”

Mesmer’s eyes narrowed. He took two steps towards me, menacingly. “If that’s true then you may just need to bite your tongue, otherwise I’ll remove it for you.”

I shuddered, but spoke anyway. “Monobunny lied,” I said. “Is that what you were thinking?”

Mesmer’s intimidating face faded ever so slightly. He looked somewhat perplexed. “Explain.”

“I remember you saying that if Monobunny didn’t always tell the truth then all hope was lost. I thought maybe that’s what you believed, and that’s what worried you.”

Mesmer uttered a small sigh and closed his eyes. “No.”

“So then, what is it?”

“I’ll never tell,” Mesmer said, moving towards his door again. “And I hope nobody else figures it out either. I’m not absolutely sure that I’m correct; it’s still just a theory at this stage. But if it’s true, it makes a whole lot of sense.” He unlocked his door and pushed it open. “Greyscale?”

“Yeah?”

“The next time you figure something out, don’t go running to tell someone, not even me. You stop and you think. Then you think some more. You only share that information if it’s absolutely necessary. When I said you were a bad detective, this is exactly what I was talking about.” Mesmer lowered his voice. “And forget what I told you before, because there is always hope.” With that he slammed the door shut and left me with nothing but my own thoughts.

I walked back to the dining hall to have Yoko and Copper intercept me, checking how I was. Yoko, because he thought I was troubled, and Copper, because she was wary of Mesmer, and had correctly predicted that I’d raced after him. I told them I was fine. Honestly, having others care about me was uplifting. But I also felt a deep pang of apprehension. For even as Mesmer spouted such an inspiring mantra, his expression bore nothing but unbridled terror and hopelessness.
> The Games We Play
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This sucks!” Button cried, lolling his head back and groaning.

“Button!” Maribelle chastised. “Dish Panner worked very hard on this. You should be more respectful.”

“Not the food,” Button said disgruntledly. “It’s just so boring here! All we do is sit around, talk about how horrible this place is, but how hopeful and cheery and happy we should be and how much we love each other and how everything’s gonna be a - okay! And we eat and we sleep and we talk about crazy serial killers and get shouted at by a rabbit. Just where is the fun in that!?” He slammed his hooves down on the table. “I want to play video games but there’s nothing here!”

The entire population of the dome had once again returned to the dining hall for a prepared meal. Dish Panner’s culinary expertise (alongside Maribelle’s help) had produced yet another sensory delight that myself and the group at large had wolfed down with much praise, not that it seemed to faze her. 

The articles had been disposed of in the kitchen’s waste-bin, which I had only just come to realize must be emptied each night and replaced with a fresh bag while everyone slept. It got me thinking what could possibly be learned if anyone were to catch Monobunny – or whomever else might be responsible – in the act. But with everyone being monitored through the cameras, could such a thing be possible?

Mesmer had thankfully returned looking like his old apathetic, reserved self. After he hadn’t come back for a while I had begun to worry that something terrible had happened. That maybe, after telling me there was always hope, he had ended his life. Given his earlier demeanor, I genuinely wouldn’t have been surprised. 

Amidst the small amount of idle chatter, Button’s outburst had taken our attention. Elsie and Dish Panner muttered about how insignificant Button’s so-called games were while Maribelle appeared entirely clueless, as if she’d never heard of video games. Her suggestion to play “I spy” was met with as much ire from Button as could be expected. The teenage colt was getting increasingly restless.

“None of you understand. I can’t keep going like this! I need games to play! Real games!”

“Button, you’re being too loud,” Maribelle said, rubbing his back to calm him down. “I’m so sorry about this, everyone. I’ll take him back to his room.”

“Wait a minute,” Yoko said between massive mouthfuls. “What about those games in the rec room?”

Button groaned. “They’re not the same! They’re board games and card games and stuff. Nothing like…” Gradually, a look of realization appeared on his face. “Actually, they might be okay. Yeah, now that I think about it, that might work! Who’s with me!?”

The rest of the group carried on eating. I happened to be somewhat intrigued by Button’s proposal – I had never played a board game in my life – but the silence from everyone else pressured me into saying nothing. 

“Anyone!? Come on, ponies. I can’t just play something on my own!”

“I’ll come with you,” Maribelle said, smiling.

Button frowned, eyeing his beautiful but hopelessly dim object of affections with a discerning eye. “Anyone else want to come along?” 

“Sorry, buddy,” Inky cut in with. “I’m not really the type for that stuff. I’m more into roleplay and physical games.” She flicked her sunglasses back into position and sat back, grinning in Sanscript’s direction. The stallion frowned, pretending not to notice.

“Someone, please!” Button cried.

“No, nobody gives a damn!” Elsie chided. “My word, you’re acting like a spoiled brat! Get out of here and play solitaire or some other nonsense. What point is there in playing silly games when our lives are at stake!?”

“Button,” Maribelle uttered, gesturing for him to quiet down. 

“Fine! We’ll go!” Button yelled, muttering obscenities under his breath. Maribelle followed sheepishly after him, glancing back at the rest of us with an apologetic expression. I watched them leave, my body creeping forward involuntarily as I wondered if I should follow them. 

“Greyscale,” Mesmer said aloud. “If you want to go with them, then go.”

I tensed up, blood flowing to my cheeks as everyone’s eyes suddenly fell on me. “I mean, I wasn’t…”

“Nothing wrong with playing a game,” Mesmer said. “Just go. Keep an eye on them.”

“Hey!” Copper cried. “You don’t get to order him around! You’re embarrassing him!”

“Couldn’t care less,” Mesmer replied, shaking his head slightly. 

“Damn you!” Copper got down from her seat, marched right up to Mesmer and began blaring in his face. “You’re nothing but a bully! Let him do what he wants!”

“What do you think I was doing?” Mesmer said, unfazed. “I can tell from his posture that he wanted to go with them; I was just giving him a friendly little push. If he wants to play a game…” Mesmer trailed off, his eyeline drifting into the ether. A look of realization suddenly washed across his face. “A game,” he repeated, quieter this time, his eyes narrowing. I knew that look. He had figured something out.

“What, did your brain melt?” Copper said mockingly. 

Mesmer shot up, almost toppling Copper to the floor as he did so and walking towards me. His expression was harsh and serious. 

“Hey! An ‘excuse me’ would have been nice!” Copper cried, chasing after him.

Elsie let out an exasperated sigh. “Could I get one moment of peace and quiet from you pedants!?” 

“Let’s go,” Mesmer said to me. “Let’s play a game.”

I stared back in disbelief. I couldn’t understand for one second why Mesmer would suggest such a thing, but I had to believe that he had a good reason. I didn’t understand him at all, couldn’t wrap my head around his actions, the way one moment he seemed to respect and care for me and the next treat me like dirt, and yet I found myself inclined to trust him. 

Something about Yoko’s story, too, seemed to back up this feeling. His master, ‘The Devil,’ had treated him even more harshly, not out of dislike, but out of respect, out of hope for something better. Both a mentor and a rival. And so I wondered, was that Mesmer’s intention? And if so, could I tip the balance in my favor in a way even he couldn’t foresee? And what else was he planning? How much could he know?

This place really is amazing, isn’t it?

“Alright,” I said.

“What?” Copper balked. She frowned, stared at the floor and took a deep breath. “Then I’m coming with you. I don’t want him trying any funny business.”

“I’ll come too,” Dopple said from the back of the room. She walked over and shared a smile with the three of us. “I’m rather intrigued by this.”

Mesmer looked somewhat disgruntled by the two mares’ sudden self-invitation but made no effort to dissuade them all the same. “Fine.”

Nothing else was said as we trudged up the stairs towards the rec room. Copper stayed close to me, as if acting as personal protection. Her proximity was admittedly thrilling, especially a few moments where her wings brushed up against me. I imagined her fighting off a horde of hooded ‘bad guys’ with all the flair and style of a martials arts demonstration then swooping back towards me and bowing her head to the ground. “They have been taken care of, my liege.” Her toned, agile-looking body gave the impression that she’d be more than capable of such a feat. 

“That’s good,” Mesmer said upon entering, pointing to the small clock ticking away on the mantlepiece above the fireplace. “We can keep an eye on the time here.” 

Button had settled for playing the pinball machine by himself while Maribelle watched over his shoulder. The colt was struggling a little though, as the setup appeared a little too big for his scrawny stature. The sounds emanating from the machine were fuzzy and muted, the lights glowing dimly through the glass. He completely ignored us as we came in, possibly too engrossed to even notice us. Maribelle said hello as Mesmer walked to the games cabinet and retrieved a pack of traditional playing cards. He levitated them to the table and sat on the sofa nearest the fireplace, opening the box and inspecting the deck. 

I looked back over to the stacks of colorful, more appealing boxes. “Can we not play one of those?” I asked. I’d been at least acquainted with playing cards; I wanted something a little more off the beaten track. 

“No,” Mesmer said, pulling a few select cards out and separating them. I sat in the sofa opposite with Copper at my side, Dopple taking a seat next to Mesmer. The sofas were somewhat roomy, offering space for around four or five ponies each. (Or one and a half Yokos) 

“Wait!” Button cried, finally returning to reality and noticing us. “You can’t start a game without me! It was my idea!” He abandoned his post at the pinball machine and leapt between me and Copper, (why did you have to do that?) thumping his hooves on the table. “I’m so hungry for a game right now!” 

“This is ridiculous,” Mesmer muttered. “The idea was for Greyscale and I to play by ourselves, not for it to be intruded upon. That goes for you mares, too.”

“Uh-huh,” Copper said, sitting forward. “Just wanted to play a friendly little game of snap all by yourselves, completely out of the blue. I totally believe it.”

“I’ll be happy to watch,” Dopple said with a curt nod. I imagined she too was intrigued by Mesmer’s sudden suggestion, wondering what on Equus he could be planning.

“I won’t!” Button exclaimed. “We should all get to play!”

“How about this?” Mesmer said, appearing agitated. “I’ll explain the rules, and the winner of the game will stay on for the next one. Since you’re so excitable, Button, you can be my first opponent.”

“That’s cool,” Button said, grinning to himself. “I just hope you don’t underestimate me.”

“Indeed…” Mesmer turned to me and paused for a moment. “Perhaps you’ll be able to learn something from this.” I sensed an element of excitement, but also trepidation in his voice. “Now, let me start by explaining the basics of playing cards.” He fanned the deck out with his magic, doing so with a precision that I was rather envious of. “You have the four suits: keys, moons, bells and suns, which can also be thought of as the two silvers and the two golds. Each suit has twelve cards, numbers one through ten, the eleventh card, the monarch, and the twelfth card, the goddess.” The pictures on each of the monarchs and goddesses were mostly traditional, but with the face of Monobunny superimposed onto them. “There are also two additional cards known as the fools.” He held them up, two Monobunnies in jester outfits staring back at us. “And they’ll be important for the game in question: Kings and Fools. This is, at its core, a game of immense strategy and pattern-recognition. Play requires ten cards, which includes one monarch and one fool. The rest can be any card of any suit between one and ten.”

“Hold on,” Copper said, pressing her hoof down on the fanned cards. “Drop your magic.”

“What for?”

“I wasn’t born yesterday. I’ll remind you that I’m an expert illusionist and know all the cheap cards tricks there are to know. I also know how to play Kings and Fools, and as such, how much of an advantage a player has if any of the cards are marked. So before you go strutting your ego in the name of being a supposed super genius, I’m sure you won’t mind me checking them over? Of course, if I find anything suspicious, it’s going to make you look really pathetic.”

Mesmer dropped his hold, the cards clattering softly against the table. “Do whatever you want,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Pick the cards for all I care.”

Copper carefully examined the backs of certain cards, turning the edges and comparing their corners with others from the deck. The way she handled them looked impossible; she was using her hooves with the precision of a scalpel and riffling through them with tremendous dexterity. After a few minutes she was satisfied that nothing had been done to tamper with them and separated the necessary cards from the others. 

“Alright,” said Mesmer. “Now for the rules. Each player starts with five cards in their hand, either the king hand or the fool hand. Cards that are neither the king nor the fool are called citizens. The game consists of twelve rounds, with the players exchanging hands after each three. During a round each player takes it in turn to place one card from their hand face down in front of them. They are then flipped over at the same time. If both cards are citizen cards, neither player has won. A citizen is equal to a citizen, another set of hands are played, with the player who put their card down last now placing theirs first, for their opponent to follow. A king, however, is greater than a citizen, and so if these two cards are revealed the player who placed the king takes the round. Similarly, a citizen is greater than a fool. If these two cards are played then the citizen will take the round. As you may have guessed, there is but one way to defeat the king. You must face him with the fool.”

“I don’t get it,” Button said. “If the fool is worth less than a citizen, how can he be worth more than the king?”

“I was getting to that,” Mesmer said. “It is inadequate to say that the fool is worth more. A citizen would not attack their king for they would know of the consequences.” Mesmer levitated the fool card as if to make a statement. Even through this rather simple-sounding game, something about the way Mesmer framed it gave it an air of significance. He was deadly serious. Beads of sweat began to appear on his forehead, as if he were preparing for something of the utmost importance. He took a small but noticeable breath. “However, a fool would be none the wiser. In a fit of rage, malice or righteous indignation, they would be the most likely one to kill the king. It’s a lesson that many throughout history could have done well to learn, but hindsight is twenty-twenty.”

“Eh, decent theme, I guess,” Button said. “But couldn’t you have made it more interesting with the goddess card and giving special abilities to some of the citizens?”

“That would go against the game’s strategic element,” Mesmer replied. “Besides, given its context, there is nothing that can defeat a goddess.”

“But it sounds too luck-based,” Button said. “You each take turns at having a huge advantage, who knows when you’re gonna play each card? It’s all up to chance!”

“You think?” Mesmer asked, smirking. “Equines – and all creatures, really – are terrible at being random. We are all prone to patterns, some more than most, and Kings and Fools is an excellent showcase of that fact. It’s an exercise in trying to figure out your opponent while also trying to throw them off your scent. Depending on one’s personal disposition, intuition and skill level, the outcomes of choices can be drastically different. It takes an attuned mind to fully grasp these intricacies.” Mesmer exuded an aura of eager anticipation. “If you don’t believe me, then let’s play, Ultimate Gaming Prodigy.”

“Oh, you are gonna get it!”

“I’ll let you pick which deck you want to start with. Remember, we swap after every three rounds. Whomever has the most points at the twelfth round wins.”

Button nodded. “Okay, I’ve got the rules. I’ll take the king hand first.” Button turned to Copper, and then myself. “You two need to go. I can’t have you reacting to what cards I have and tipping him off!”

At his request, Copper and I had to sit at the far ends, our attention to the center of the table. The hands were dealt, each of them shuffling and then bringing them in close, Button having a harder time due to relying on hooves to hold them in form.

Button placed his card first, doing so delicately. Then Mesmer placed his. Maribelle had volunteered to turn the cards over, and the first draw saw a three and a six – two citizen cards. The next draw, another two citizens. And again. Button appeared to grow tense after each reveal, his eyes never meeting Mesmer’s, his gaze shifting only between his own cards and the table.  

I could understand his plight. Wielding the king hand gives the player an immense advantage. If taken by pure chance, the king hand would have an 80% chance of winning in the first play, 75% chance of winning in the second and 66% chance of winning in the third. Button now only had a 50% chance, and if both were to play citizens again, he would have to concede. 

Mesmer placed his card first and Button followed, the cards being revealed as the king and the fool. “That was good,” Mesmer said. “You actually had me torn between playing the fool in the fourth or the fifth. This round could’ve gone either way.”

“Save your breath,” Button muttered. “You’re trying to psyche me out with a false compliment.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Mesmer replied.

“Just deal the cards again.”

This time Mesmer placed his first. I could see now that whomever placed their card first was also at a disadvantage, as it gave their opponent an opportunity to gauge their reaction, possibly pick up on whether they’d played their all-important card. But that was easier said than done, especially against someone like Mesmer. But to my shock, the first play was revealed and Mesmer’s fool saw him lose the round.

“Oh, well done, Button!” Maribelle cheered once the cards were turned.

“Not yet,” Button said. “He was just testing me with that one.”

“Interesting you should say that,” Mesmer said. 

“Why?”

“It means you are likely predisposed to play in a particular way. Sometimes it’s important not to speak what’s on your mind.” I felt as if this was a direct message to me, both in preparation for our game and the point he had made earlier. 

“Hmph.” Button pouted. “I take that back. You’re just saying that stuff to appear all clever. It’s a cheap mind trick, pretty telling for the supposed Ultimate Hypnotist.”

You’re underestimating him, I thought to myself. Button’s attitude was an obvious sign that he wasn’t taking this seriously, that he was far too irrational to even grasp how Mesmer might be beating him. Once that thought dawned on me the game between them seemed to lose its luster. From this point on, Button was noth–

A spark flew through my brain. I tried relaying my previous thought over and over, reminding myself exactly what I had witnessed. There was a chance Button had shown his true colors, that his overly cocky nature was a sign of his undoing. But then, what loss could possibly hurt more than against someone you perceive to be so far below you? Button had seen something in those two plays – understood something. 

“You’re trying to psyche me out with a false compliment.”


“Just deal the cards.”


“He was just testing me with that one.”


“I take that back. You’re just saying that stuff to appear all clever.”


Twice he had noted that Mesmer was employing a psychological tactic. On the second occasion, it wasn’t even from something Mesmer said, it was from just a single card being played. Button didn’t even think of it as Mesmer making a poor decision, even though it was the riskiest possible play and had cost him a round. Button was perceptive enough to see something beyond the obvious.

However, twice he had said something you’d expect from a sore loser, or someone losing their cool and venting their frustration, the kinds of things you wouldn’t expect someone with a great sense of perception to say. I had to wonder, was that part of Button’s plan? Mesmer had said the first round could have gone either way. If Button had won, would he have acted differently? By losing the first round, and with the king’s hand no less, the idea that Button might be useless after all would be easier to believe. And so, it was surely advantageous for Button to enforce that idea early on, so that he could lull Mesmer into a false sense of security.

This was all mere speculation, of course. I could have also been watching a disgruntled colt and a big-headed, overconfident stallion throw out cards randomly and act as if the results were somehow significant. But my instinct told me that there was something more, some underlying battle of wits outside of the game itself. The Ultimate Gaming Prodigy was smarter and more adept at strategy than he looked, and Mesmer had realized this and was fighting back. 

Button won the next round and the two remained quiet, the teenage colt no longer demonstrating any kind of cocky bravado. Switching hands, Mesmer took the first round, playing the king on his first hand, and then again in the second. Button was agitated, but appeared to be holding it in. Sealing his own doom by playing the fool on the third hand, the scores were now ever so slightly in Mesmer’s favor. Button would need to win all three rounds as the king in order to have a decent chance of coming out on top.

Each player was taking longer between hands to place their chosen card. Even Maribelle had become muted, acting more like a professional dealer than Button’s personal cheerleader. The tension exuding from the two competitors was almost contagious. This was the kind of game I could imagine foals playing in the attic, laughing and joking, trading bottle caps as impromptu currency and battling with their limited wits. It was so simple and easy to learn that it bordered on absurdity. But all a game needed to become a serious matter was for those involved to believe it to be a serious matter. Then it could mean everything. That game could become your livelihood, everything you want to strive for. Sumo was just a game where you pushed the other guy out of a circle, after all. To think that it could become something so significant said a lot about the equine race. And myself. I had never even considered such things to be a way of life. In fact, I had never considered much at all about anything. I had lacked the jump-start, the spark, the first toppled domino to lead into the rest of my existence. I’d barely even thought about these things. But now, in a house full of strangers, watching two ponies play a simplistic game of cards like their lives depended on it, I felt the inward pull of a void, as if I might collapse in on myself like a black hole. This, I concluded, as I grasped the arm of the sofa and pulled my body in tight, was what happened when you grew up twenty years too late.

“Tch!”

Button had lost one of his rounds with the king, Mesmer correctly predicting its use in the fifth and final hand, a parade of four citizen pairs being played and Button having to concede. This meant he needed at least two wins with the fool hand just to break even, with three wins to come out on top. The odds were truly stacked against him. 

“Wait a second,” Button said, holding up a hoof. He propped up his chin and stared at a spot on the table, his jaw twitching like he was trying to quietly munch through a lump of spinach. 

I’m next I realized. This is what Mesmer wanted from me. What I wanted was to impress him, to surprise him, to show that I couldn’t be so easily figured out. But I knew I would fail. This test – if that was Mesmer’s intention – was a waste of time. I would have to be a fool to think I could outsmart him. A ‘fool,’ huh? How ironic. I could discern that complex mind-games were a part of the game, but not what those mind-games actually were. What was the significance of playing the trump card in the first round? In the second? In the last? I didn’t know. I just knew that somehow, these decisions could be predicted and read given enough perceptive ability. 

From what I could fathom, the onus of winning was more so on the side of the king hand, since you would have the greatest chance of winning each round. Statistically, the best chance, assuming the opponent played randomly, would be to play the king in either the first or last hands. Either you’d win in an instant with the opponent more likely to play a citizen, or save the king and allow the opponent four chances of playing the fool and causing their own demise. But Mesmer wouldn’t play randomly. If he figured out that this was my strategy, he could just alternate between playing the fool first or last, netting a few wins in the process. 

I tried to remember the series of moves that Mesmer had made but failed to see a particular pattern. I knew it was possible that he could read Button’s reactions upon placing down a card, perhaps an involuntary tic, eye movement or adjusted breathing, but there were also many rounds he won while placing the card first. In that case, he would’ve had no opportunity to switch his option depending on Button’s behavior. He had to have figured out – based on prediction – which card Button would play. Unless it was all just luck, but I doubted that. As for reading Mesmer? I had no chance in hell.

“That was good,” Mesmer said.

I looked up, broken from my reverie, shocked at what I was hearing. I had missed the final three rounds and thought maybe Button had won a miraculous victory after all, but that wasn’t the case. Mesmer had won all three and attained a final score of 8 – 4.

Button raised an eyebrow in suspicion. “Way to rub it in.”

“No, really,” Mesmer continued. “You threw me off a few times. I wasn’t always completely sure what you were planning. I’ve won plenty of games with a ten two or a nine three, so you shouldn’t be discouraged. With a bit of practice you might even be a contender.”

“Be honest,” Button said, raising a hoof towards him. “Were you cheating? Could you see my cards somehow? Were you keeping track of them with magic or getting someone here to tip you off?”

“Absolutely not,” Mesmer answered coolly. “I’m rather disappointed that you would ask such a thing, if I’m being honest.”

“Whatever,” Button said, rolling his eyes. “Playing you in this game was a stupid idea anyway. How would you feel if I challenged you to a bunch of video games that I’ve had hours and hours of practice with? It wouldn’t exactly be fair, would it?”

“No, not really,” Mesmer answered. “I’ve gambled a lot playing this game and have won considerable amounts of money. Very, very rarely do I suffer anything worse than a draw. I am, much like you with your video games, an experienced, frankly overpowering opponent. But then you’re not the one I challenged.” Mesmer’s eyes briefly flicked in my direction. “I only played against you because you were so adamant about joining us.”

“And you want play against Greyscale!?” Button gawped. “What are you expecting!?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I intend to find out.”

“This is insane,” Copper muttered, shaking her head. “How are we supposed to believe that this isn’t just bullying? And you list your gambling exploits as if we should think highly of you. Get a load of yourself, you self-absorbed, big-headed buffoon!” She turned to me. “Greyscale, you don’t have to deal with this clown. I don’t know what he’s up to, but I don’t like it.”

“No,” I said simply. “I want to play against him. Even if he wins twelve rounds straight, I still want to do it.”

Copper closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose as if attempting to find peace. “Okay. I don’t want to force you around either. But if he gives you crap, you don’t have to take it.”

“I won’t,” Mesmer said, gathering the cards and shuffling them. “So, shall we begin?”

“Hold on a minute,” I said. “I need to figure something out.”

“Take your time.”

I closed my eyes. Now what? I thought. Whatever expectations Mesmer had for me, there was no way I could live up to them. I had no experience in these kinds of competitive strategy games, none whatsoever. But I wanted to impress him. I wanted to be good, somehow. To be better than a nobody. And to do that, I realized, wouldn’t require beating him. But even then, I had no idea how. The layers of the game were too deep, and I was swimming blind. 

If it was random, if it was random… I repeated these words over and over to myself. By pure chance, a 6 – 6 outcome would be common. A 7 – 5 would happen occasionally. An 8 – 4 would be significantly less likely, and a 9 – 3 or beyond would be downright rare. Button had lost 4 – 8 and yet Mesmer had considered him an impressive opponent. That alone was a testament to Mesmer’s skill and confidence in a game with a great degree of chance involved. So to impress him, to match Button or perhaps surpass him, playing randomly would be my chance.

“Equines – and all creatures, really – are terrible at being random. We are all prone to patterns, some more than most.”

Mesmer was right. To be truly random was to become an automaton, to become unliving. No matter how much I might try to choose a card without thought, it was impossible. That was, unless… I did it quite literally. So long as the five cards were shuffled and placed face-down, I could simply place the top card in the center. That would be as close to random as possible. The one thing it wouldn’t do, is impress Mesmer. Win or lose, it would show Mesmer, loud and clear, that I wasn’t willing to face him on an intellectual level. Either that, or I didn’t want to take the game seriously, which would probably be seen as an insult. So then, there was another option. I could pick up the five cards and simply play them in sequence. But it took all of two seconds for me to realize how stupid an idea this was. Mesmer would realize this extremely quickly and the same result would occur. Even if I tried picking in different orders each round from front to back, back to front, middle first and then either side, I had no doubt Mesmer would pick up on it. 

Time was ticking – literally. I could hear the steady tick, tock of the clock on the mantlepiece through the blackness of my closed eyes, counting down my chance to even make a single move. I couldn’t stay here forever. I needed something, a spark to help me achieve my goal. If I were to play randomly, it would mean Mesmer would figure it out. His entire focus would be on reading my face as I placed down each card. My attempt at beating him would be feeble. But to try and outsmart him was useless. I was stuck in a futile loop.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

I considered conceding. I knew this was just some card game, that it didn’t mean anything, but it meant something to Mesmer, so it had to mean something more. I wanted to find out what that was. I needed an idea, a game-plan, something that not even Mesmer would be able to–

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

I opened my eyes. I had it. All I had to do now was stay calm. I needed to remind myself that every card was as important as the other. King, fool, citizen… All were equal. All could mean the difference between winning and losing. And I didn’t care about winning. I couldn’t. That was my one chance to prove something to Mesmer. 

My heart was going crazy. That same excitement I felt from the trial was back. And once again, the same stallion stood in my way. The mysterious, maroon-coated unicorn with an iron will and a fiery tongue. 

Mesmer.

“Button? If you wouldn’t mind,” I said, taking his spot. “I don’t want anyone talking or commenting on the game as it’s played,” I said. “I don’t want any distractions.”

Mesmer grinned. “I like what I’m hearing,” he said. “Do you have any preference on which deck to start with?”

“King,” I said confidently. 

“Excellent.”

“Wow,” Button said. “You look intense. I hope you beat him.”

That’s not the point, I said inwardly. “Please be quiet.”

The cards were shuffled and dealt. I picked them up, finding it difficult to form an equally spaced fan with my hooves. I looked opposite and saw Mesmer scanning his cards. In that moment, I somehow knew that I could make it work. I was the first to put down a card – a citizen. Just as meaningful as the king, just as meaningful as the king, I reminded myself. Mesmer put down one in kind and the game truly began. 

Maribelle revealed the cards. Two citizens. I had lost the chance to take the round. I steadied my breathing. I needed to temper my expectations. Next card. Next card. Without a word, the next hand was played. The same result. I had lost another chance. It doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter. I had to be sure in my strategy. I had to think of nothing else. Win or lose, I don’t care. Win or lose, I don’t care. 

The next hand, my king beat Mesmer’s citizen. It meant nothing. My plan had only just begun. The cards were shuffled again and Mesmer placed his first. I chose the king straight after and took round two in an instant. That doesn’t mean the plan is working. Keep going. 

The next round ended in victory as Mesmer played his fool in the third hand. The score at three to nothing, Mesmer took the king hand and fired back with three wins of his own, his king coming out in the second hand of the third round and then not appearing in the following rounds, my play of the fool ending my chances without his input. We were neck-and-neck. And it just might have been the best possible outcome. I couldn’t read Mesmer’s mind, nor his movements, but part of me believed he was coming to a conclusion, a theory about my playstyle that he would base his actions on. And unless he had truly figured it out, any belief that he had would only swing in my favor.

Win or lose, I don’t care. Win or lose, I don’t care.

My vision blurred. I felt both light and heavy, a two-ton anvil floating merrily in a vacuum. But this was all my own doing. I reached deep inside myself to lose grip on reality, my mind on another plane. I was on the outside looking in, a hapless viewer through the cameras that peppered the dome. Someone was laughing in the darkness beside me, their attention drawn to a mysterious figure crawling along one of the hallways. I kept repeating a number over and over again. It was the most important thing of all.

My breathing was becoming intrusive. It reminded me too much of where I was, what I was doing. After the next round, I told myself. 

I’d gained my first loss with the king hand, Mesmer and I playing citizens for the first four hands in rhythmic succession. Once that was done, I fell even deeper. I was back in my old apartment, flopping cards onto the floor with nothing but the cold, grey sky pouring in from the windows as company. 

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

I now had a clock in my apartment. That was new. It broke the silence merrily.

King in the first hand. Mesmer played–

Doesn’t matter. Next.

Mesmer lost the next round, playing the fool in the second hand. I’m back outside the dome, looking in. “Look at these fools!” I hear someone say. “They’re like rats in a trap!”

“Greyscale?”

Now Maribelle is talking to me. Grip on reality slipped a little too much. I take the cards and steady my breathing. I’m almost there. 

I play the fool in the fourth hand. 

Next. 

Mesmer plays the king in the third.

NEXT!

I put down my chosen card and waited for Mesmer to respond. At the very moment his card touched the table, Dopple spoke up.

“You’ve just lost.”

At first I thought she was talking to me, but Mesmer turned to her, shocked, and turned the cards over himself. The second hand of the final round. My fool had beaten Mesmer’s king. The stallion stared at the cards for a few seconds, entranced. Then he raised his head and stared at me with an almost longing gaze. 

Back to reality. All it took was a little push.

“Are you kidding me!?” Button exclaimed, placing his hooves on the table and leaning over the cards, gawking over them as if they were a newly discovered species of insect. “Seven five!? The nobody actually won!?”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I stared at Mesmer for a moment, then back to the cards, then back to him. The plan had been a success beyond my wildest dreams.

“How did you do it?” Mesmer asked, sounding ever so slightly shaken. 

I looked around awkwardly for a moment. Everyone’s eyes were on me. I was almost ready to play another hand, my mind set on the next move. But I couldn’t expose everything. That would ruin the fun of it. I could, however, reveal a certain part of my tactic, a somewhat philosophical take on the game that actually held some truth.

“The citizens are just as important as the kings and the fools,” I said, turning to Mesmer. “Once I figured that out, I knew what I had to do.” In that instant, I felt more important than I ever had in my life. I had just overcome an insurmountable obstacle. Out of nowhere, tears began to pool around my eyes. I rubbed at them reflexively, only for more tears to take their place. “Sorry,” I said, clenching my eyelids and holding a hoof to my temple in an effort to pull myself together. 

“There’s no need to cry,” Button chided. I could hear him but not see him. “Well this got real awkward real fast. Maribelle, let’s go. I’m not even convinced this game was a test of strategy after all.”

I was still shaking when they left. I cried further still, almost like a reflex action, no thought able to break through my embarrassing display. I felt like a rusty machine springing to life at the flick of a switch, uncontrollably, instinctively. In all my memories I couldn’t think of a single other time like this. And yet, all I had done was won a game of cards. I was reminded of just how broken I truly was.

“Greyscale,” Mesmer said. “That was impressive. I thought I had figured you out, but you proved me wrong.”

“Thanks,” I replied, regaining control of my breathing. “I did my best.”

“The question is, how did you know I was going to lose?” Mesmer said, glaring at Dopple. “Had you figured out his strategy? Or did you read him well enough to see it coming?”

Dopple shrugged. “He had the same strategy from the very beginning. Isn’t that right, Greyscale?”

I stared at her, bewildered. It was inconceivable to me that anyone could have figured it out. “Yeah.”

Dopple smiled. “I realized it after the third round. It was very clever.”

“There’s no way,” I replied, my mouth outrunning my mind. 

“You think so?” Dopple asked, tilting her head. “Here, I’ll prove it to you.” She leaned over and whispered two little words into my ear. My jaw dropped. She brought her head back and raised her eyebrows with a mischievous grin as if to say, “I told you so.” 

Mesmer’s words came back in a flash. “The truth is, Dopple might just be the greatest asset we have in this place. She is, if I’m right about this, the most intelligent one among all of us.” In that moment I believed it without a shred of doubt. 

Mesmer snorted annoyedly and plodded towards the door. “What does it matter? We should be putting our minds towards more pressing issues than card games. Don’t sail on your supposed victories for too long.” 

“Sore loser,” Copper said, laughing sardonically. 

As Mesmer left, I wondered what he meant, wondered why he had been so adamant in bringing me here and proposing a card game, wondered why he treated it with so much weight only to then act as if it was meaningless. I supposed Copper could be right, that he was just being a sore loser. However, a tiny voice in the back of my mind wasn’t convinced. It said this was all deliberate, all part of Mesmer’s grand plan. He had wanted something from this, and I could feel that even though he had lost the game, he had gained something else, something far more important. That this was the start of something far bigger than myself. Bigger than I could ever imagine. But there was no evidence and no possible reason to support that idea, and it slipped out of my mind in an instant. Now I was back to reveling in Dopple’s uncanny level of perception.

While trying to come up with a method to use against Mesmer, I had one prominent thought in my mind: my best chance was random chance. By sheer probability alone, a random number set would be unlikely to result in a crushing defeat. Not to mention, a random sequence has no pattern, even if it appears to. It had the potential of confusing Mesmer and even convincing him of a higher form of tactic even if it didn’t result in a win. It just might make him feel as if he only won by chance, which would’ve been unsatisfying. 

The problem was how to do such a thing. I knew that if given the opportunity to produce a random sequence, say, a string of numbers between one and five, I could never trust myself to do it. Nobody could. Equines are predisposed to see patterns where there are none and to expect outcomes based on an instinctive feeling of potential likelihood, of a pattern being followed or broken, even previous occurrences having no bearing on what follows. If you flip a coin five times in a row and it lands heads each time it somehow feels more likely for the next flip to be tails, even if the result is still 50/50, simply on the basis that six heads in a row is unlikely. With numbers one to five, trying to produce a random pattern would instinctively lead one to feel that one of the numbers had been “left out” or that a certain number had been repeated too often, even if it was perfectly plausible for such things to happen through random chance. I almost gave up on the idea completely until I realized something while listening attentively with my eyes clamped shut. I heard something vital, something that could replicate randomness as closely as possible, something that Dopple had figured out and had relayed to me with just two simple words.

“Tick, tock.”

The clock on the mantlepiece. The second hand ticked away, completing a full rotation in sixty tiny movements. Sixty notches, but there was a way of translating that into the exact number I needed. The numbers one through twelve marked its face. Twelve sets of five notches. Five. The plan was simple: the moment we picked up our cards was the moment I struck. For the brief second Mesmer was focused on his cards I glanced across to the clock and made a mental note of the second hand’s position at the very next tick. If it landed perfectly on one of the twelve face numbers, that meant the number five. If it was one notch after it, that was a one. Same for two, three and four. And so, I had my chosen time to play my unique card – whether it was the king or the fool – during that round. 

The other obstacle was being predictable based on my expressions made during each turn. Although I would only be placing my card down first fifty percent of the time, that still left half the game in which to jeopardize my strategy. This was arguably the riskiest aspect of my entire plan. I had to drift as far as I could from reality while still retaining my grasp on that important number at which to play the corresponding card, and without revealing that number by accident through mumbling it. I needed something beyond a dreamlike state, a realization that wouldn’t cause me to become agitated or excited more while playing the fool or king as opposed to the citizens. Then it struck me as I considered just how each round was won: playing a citizen was just as important and held just as much weight as playing any other card. 

My plan wasn’t perfect; I knew that. I wasn’t trying to win. It was only through pure luck, through the closest form of randomness that I could apply through which I did win. But it was enough for Mesmer to think more highly of me, and that victory was more than par for the course. I had no idea for anything else beyond that. It was the best I could come up with and the best I felt I could ever come up with. Which is why when Dopple revealed she had figured it out after three measly rounds I was hit with a mixture of awe, reverence and disappointment. I could see then how someone like Dopple could test even Mesmer, as if she were on another plane of existence, viewing the world as no-one else did. 

“But she’s just an impersonator!”


“And you’re just a nobody.”


I felt powerless and small but also enraptured. I wanted to know more about her, more desperately than ever before, even if I had no chance of understanding it. She would make for a good friend, or maybe…

“What are we even doing?” Copper muttered, shaking her head. “Grey, I’ll be honest. I know Kings and Fools. I’ve never heard anyone claim it to be some highly strategic game or test of intelligence; it’s just some gambling thing. Mesmer’s the real fool for being delusional enough to think it’s anything more. I bet he made up all that stuff about his win record just to look good. Don’t know why you look up to that guy when he’s just taking advantage of you.”

“I understand why you’d think that,” Dopple said, “but I would disagree. If you were a little more friendly towards Mesmer then you might see a different side of him.”

“Didn’t ask for your opinion,” Copper said bitingly. “And you’re not much better, either.”

“Copper,” I said, becoming increasingly distressed as I watched the two mares bicker. Families shouldn’t fight! “Fam… I mean, I don’t want you fighting.”

“I know that,” Copper replied with a pained expression. “But I also don’t like playing pretend and buddying up to someone I don’t trust.”

“I don’t trust you either,” Dopple said plainly. “But I at least think you deserve a modicum of respect.”

“Fake niceness,” Copper said, waving a hoof. She turned to me. “Grey, this is what I’m trying to tell you. You’re going to get killed if you keep following everyone blindly like a puppy.”

“It’s not fake,” Dopple said, a hint of frustration seeping into her voice. She sighed, continuing with calm reverence. “If it’ll help you be just a little more trusting, let’s play Kings and Fools.”

Copper rolled her eyes. “And how will that help?”

“It’ll show you that Mesmer wasn’t making everything up. I’ll play you now and beat you. I’ll demonstrate just how far the strategic element of the game goes, and you can decide for yourself if Mesmer was just being delusional.”

“And what about you?” Copper asked. “How will it make me trust you any more?”

“It won’t,” came the curt reply. “But it’ll be a start towards us getting along. That’s what you want, isn’t it, Greyscale?”

I froze for a moment as the two mares looked at me expectantly, hanging on my word. As if I were the central cog in a grand machine. “Y-yeah,” I uttered. I had a nagging feeling at the back of my mind that sprang forth and encompassed my entire realm of thought. I barely even registered the response I got – just a stream of sounds as Dopple and Copper spoke some more, first to me, then to each other. Just noise. I was slipping from reality again, but this time I reveled in it, allowed it, like I was a passing observer in a gallery and all around me was just the contents of an unfinished painting.

I had already asked Monobunny whether the dome was made for me – a heaven for a lost soul who had no hope. He had told me no. He had told me I was being conceited for thinking such a thing, as if anyone would ever do anything for a nobody like me. He was the paragon of honesty, never telling a lie. That much made sense. But with each passing moment I found myself drifting closer and closer towards nirvana. First it was the thrill of the trial. Next it was being one of the group, part of the family. Important ponies. Important friends. Lov–

I looked over as Dopple and Copper played the last card in each of their hands and turned them over. Dopple had won with a king against Copper’s citizen. I smiled for a moment, impressed that Dopple had guessed correctly on her first round, and on the final hand, no doubt. Then I realized something was off. It was impossible for a final hand to contain a king and a citizen, as by that point the fool would have to be played. The other four hands would have to have been double citizens. Not only that, but it was Copper who had chosen the king hand, not Dopple. I stared at the table, trying to make sense of it all, when Copper spoke up.

“How did you know? Nobody could have seen me change it!”

“I didn’t,” Dopple said. “I just thought you might have tried something like that.”

Copper’s eyes narrowed. “I never saw you conceal it. How did you do it?”

“I didn’t conceal it, I merely made another king hand while I was shuffling through the cards.”

“Excuse me,” I said, sliding closer to the two. “What just happened? How do you have those cards?”

“I made a switch,” Copper said, extending her left wing. I almost though for a second she was going to wrap it around me and my heart jolted, but instead she slipped her right hoof through a line of feathers and pulled out a card – the king. 

“You cheated!?” I exclaimed.

“Not exactly,” Copper replied. “I wasn’t taking this game seriously in the first place and I was fully expecting to be found out. I switched out my king for a citizen, that way I’d win no matter what point Dopple played the fool. But apparently Dopple reacted in kind and switched her fool for a king.” Her face tensed up a little. “I was trying to be clever and forfeit the game in a creative way, just to throw her off. I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting her to do the same.”

“I knew you wouldn’t enjoy the game,” Dopple said. “I thought maybe you’d like it more if I surprised you.”

“I can’t say I liked it,” Copper replied, leaning back into the sofa and running a hoof through her jade-colored mane. “Kind of impressive though. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna trust you over it.” She sighed. “You really didn’t see me conceal the card?”

Dopple shook her head. 

“Good. Fine.” Copper took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “There’s not much that scares me more than the thought of losing my touch, ridiculous as that might sound given our situation.”

“That’s amazing though,” I said. “You switched the cards right in front of us and we didn’t even notice.”

Copper smiled at that, her eyes fixed on the floor. “I’ve had a lot of practice. I first dabbled in illusionism when I was five, learned my first card trick from my grandfather.” Copper began absentmindedly pulling some cards from the deck and fanning them out on the table, flipping them over and shuffling them with near-mechanical precision. “It’s a strange craft when you think about it, non-unicorns performing ‘magic,’ so to speak. I guess some ponies saw magic shows as rather pointless since it’s just a display of raw power, not to mention the truly accomplished magic users come under fire for using their magic in the way they do.”

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“Picture this: you go and see some unicorn turning kittens into kettles or growing strawberries ten times their normal size. A round of applause and all that. But think about it, if they’re able to grow food like that or perform such reality-bending feats, shouldn’t they be putting their powers to a better use? A farm runs to produce enough food for a village and beyond, so what if they have a bad harvest? What if that unicorn could’ve prevented someone from going hungry? And magic has so many applications that’d be just one of a thousand possible uses. 

“Let’s say for example Dr. Scalpel used her skills with a knife on a prosthetic body and put on a stage-show. I’m sure she’d be pretty impressive and show her extensive knowledge, but wouldn’t you ask yourself why she wasn’t going and saving lives if she’s so capable? Even if it’s not completely true – you might just be making assumptions about the unicorn’s abilities – it’s a common thought to be held. 

“That’s not all, though. When you see a unicorn do something amazing with magic there’s no mystery behind it. Even if you’re a non-magic user and have no idea about the process of casting spells – like us – it’s easy to come to the understanding that magic comes straight from natural ability, not from being smart or creative. Kind of like how a dog or a cat might not know how an engine works or how a house is built, but be completely unfazed by them. Then for unicorns it’s more just an appreciation of the fruits of their work rather than the work they put in, since it’s all just for the sheer spectacle.

“Illusionism, however, is an entirely different beast.” Copper flipped over the cards she’d been shuffling and riffling, splaying them out to show them all in numerical and suit order. “The amazement comes from not knowing what just happened. The performer isn’t showing off some skill that you can quantify or simply assume to be natural. They’re doing something you can’t even begin to explain. Of course, if your audience isn’t well versed in such things that can be easy, but the real test is in outsmarting or outmaneuvering the more adept and attentive. Fooling the king, if you will. And as more and more techniques become widespread, that only gets harder. Some get by with just taking the works of others, practicing and practicing them, but the real cuts come when the illusionist has to create their own tricks. They have to go one step beyond.

“There’s a few different levels for this. You both realize by now that I concealed a card in my wing. I could’ve concealed it in clothing if I was wearing anything, and that would’ve probably been easier. Moving your hoof to your wing is already a suspicious maneuver that someone might notice, unless you’ve had the extensive training. Difficult, but doable.” Copper pressed the fanned cards into a pile and flipped them over. “But then how do you explain this?” She turned the cards over and fanned them out once more to reveal that the card pattern was faceup, facedown, faceup, facedown, from one end to the other. “I couldn’t have put the cards in my wings and shuffled them around, all I have are my hooves, which are ill-suited to this task. But still, look at what I did.”

“That’s incredible!” I balked. 

“Perhaps,” Copper said, flicking the cards across the table and leaning back. “But that trick took me almost a year to fully master. You want to know how I did it?”

I nodded feverishly. Dopple nodded once in agreement.

“I started by conceiving an impossible task. Then I worked and worked, thought and thought, agonized over failed attempts and lay awake in the night, desperately whirring through ideas until finally, one day, I figured out a way to make this impossible task a reality. Not just in concept, but in practice. That’s what illusionism is all about, in the end. Take something that nobody thought possible and then make it happen. It’s what I lived for.” Copper’s expression grew taut. I couldn’t help but notice she had said ‘lived’, not ‘live.’ 

“And it’s not just card tricks,” she continued. “There’s all sorts of other illusions ranging from those with everyday objects magically disappearing to more elaborate tricks that warp one’s perception of reality entirely. But those generally require a lot of setup and custom-built apparatus, so nothing here would do, not unless I spent a few days setting it all up, and what’s the point in that? That’s the shame of it all, really. Once you know how it works it doesn’t seem so clever. Then it ends up just like the regular magic shows; it’s nothing but a test of natural ability. My dream has always been to create something that goes beyond that, a trick that leaves you in awe even if you know how it’s done and no matter how many times you witness it.” Copper closed her eyes. “I dream of creating the Ultimate Illusion.” She opened them again and snorted. “Fat chance of that happening in this place.”

I didn’t know what to say. Copper had a moment to herself and looked up at me with an expression of longing. Not for me (I assumed) but for something better. I couldn’t relate, but I could understand somewhat. 

“Copper,” Dopple said, leaning slightly across the table towards her. “There always is a chance, however remote. Who knows? Your Ultimate Illusion could be our ticket out of here.”

Copper’s face dropped like a fallen hammer. “As much as my profession deals with tempting the impossible, you get to learn really soon what resides on the mere outskirts of possibility…” Copper’s face relaxed, “and those which are completely outside the realms of possibility. Consider me unhopeful.” She got up and walked past me, towards the door. “I want some time alone,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “And from the looks of it, you two feel the same way. I’ll leave you to it, but I’ll be keeping an eye out. If one of you were to die, I’d know who was culpable.” She gave Dopple a piercing glance and left.

Her exit felt unnatural, almost forced. She’d been adamant about protecting me but was now leaving me within hoof’s reach of someone she didn’t trust. But perhaps, I considered, she believed that her threat was enough to deter Dopple from attacking me. Not that I was at all worried, but I had to wonder if this was a wise decision from Copper’s perspective. If Dopple was smart enough, she could murder me in an unconventional way and deny all of Copper’s accusations, maybe even turning them back on her. Regardless, I didn’t think Copper left for no reason, nor that she was being careless. Now that I thought about it, it wasn’t Dopple who she’d been most suspicious of. My brain churned with ideas until I realized I’d been sat in silence, staring at the door for almost a minute.

“I think you’ve missed your chance,” Dopple said. 

“Huh?”

“You wanted to go with her, I presume.” Dopple relaxed and stared at the cards on the table, her lips pursed. “I can understand why. She’s an impressive individual, and she’s rather beautiful.”

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. “Are you saying you...?”

“No, no,” Dopple said, chuckling. “I’m not interested in mares, if that’s what you’re thinking. I meant from your perspective.”

“Oh.” I could feel my cheeks heat up as I shrank away. She wasn’t wrong; Copper was a delight to the eyes and a point of interest. But though I could not say it aloud, I was more interested in someone else in that moment: the one who had discovered my strategy in Kings and Fools. The mare who Mesmer believed was the most intelligent of all of us. “Well… she’s nice to me,” I eventually responded with. “But, um, I don’t think I need to go after her. She’d have asked me along if she wanted me to follow her.”

“I guess you’re right,” Dopple replied. “But that leaves you here. Were you waiting to play cards with me?”

“No, that’s not it,” I said. “I was just curious how you figured me out.”

“It’s not something I can really express,” Dopple said. “I noticed you glancing at the clock and I considered that’s what you were doing. After the next round I had confirmed it.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Not really, though it might seem that way.” Dopple looked off to one side and back again. “Was that all?”

“Well, no,” I said. “I wanted to check if I’d offended you earlier. I was rude to you, and… you flew off. Monobunny was mean to me and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that?” Dopple chortled softly. “I just needed an excuse to get away from Mesmer, and the one place he can’t follow me is the roof. I’m the one who should be sorry for making you worry.”

“Oh, alright. I’m glad.” Her answer made sense at first, but then I realized something. “But if you were trying to get away from Mesmer, why did you follow us here? You didn’t have to come. In fact, Mesmer didn’t want you to come.”

Dopple’s smile disappeared and she stared at me forlornly. She looked somewhat embarrassed, even. “You really do catch on quick, don’t you?”

“Well, I was just wondering, that’s all,” I said worriedly, feeling intimidated all of a sudden. “It doesn’t, um, make complete sense to me.”

“I came here for the exact same reason Mesmer did,” she replied succinctly. 

“Just to play a game?” I asked.

“Not quite. I guess you could say I was… testing someone.”

“Who? And for what?”

“I can’t say,” she replied, smiling again. “Greyscale, you’re very good at noticing certain things and figuring out inconsistencies, but I’m not so sure you understand the motivation of others all that well. That’s okay, of course. I couldn’t possibly expect that from you, and I mean no offence. I just hope that…” Dopple paused for a moment, as if readying herself. “I just hope your own motivation makes sense to you. This is a dangerous place. Just about anything could happen.”

My brain drew a blank. Once again, it felt like Dopple was on some other level, completely out of reach. Her words went in but their meaning was lost. “I’ll be careful.”

“Good, but what is it that you want?”

To break the stare-down I spoke my mind. “I… guess I want to know more about you.”

This seemed to take her off guard and she twitched slightly. “But that’s not a very interesting subject.”

“It is to me. You’re just, really smart, is all. I don’t understand you, if I’m honest.”

Dopple sighed deeply. “I see.” She got up and walked to the window, staring out at the fake, painted-on sky that coated the dome’s interior. “It’s not something I’ve ever talked about. I don’t like looking back on my past.” She looked at me over her shoulder. “I promise to tell you, but first, I want you to tell me about yourself.”

“But there’s nothing to tell,” I said, trying to hide my fear at such a prospect. “I’m nothing special.”

“Then I have nothing to tell,” Dopple replied coldly. “We’re equal.”

“That’s not fair!” I cried. Upon saying it I wish I hadn’t; I sounded like an unruly infant. “I’m the Ultimate Nobody, remember?”

“So you feel the same way as I do,” Dopple said stonily, walking past the table. “You want to flee from your past. You want to pretend as if it never happened, correct?”

I could only shrug guiltily in response.

“As I suspected.” Dopple sighed and moved towards the door. “Greyscale, tomorrow I’m going to be making another tour of the dome, looking for a way out. I really mean to do it, to escape from here, and there’s a chance I could use your help. If you’re willing to join me and tell me about your past, I’ll talk about mine. That’s the sort of thing friends are willing to do.” Dopple exhaled sharply through her nose and shook her head. “I apologize. After lecturing you about finding your own motivation, I find myself questioning my own. You bring out the strangest things in others. I have to wonder if that’s a blessing or a curse. I’ll be seeing you.” 

With a pained smile she left, leaving me alone in a room that seemed far bigger than it ever had before. 

I was stuck in place, frozen solid. The ticking of the clock was loud and abrasive amidst the silence. Even my own breathing was becoming a distraction as I was transported back to my old apartment, the walls growing drab and decayed. My heart thundered in my ears and I clenched my eyelids, nothing but the ticking and the breathing and the thud of my heart. A sudden irrational fear came over me and I thought – for just one fleeting moment of utter madness – that I was alone in the dome and the others had been wiped from existence. My stomach lurched and I opened my eyes to find myself grasping determinedly at the fabric of the sofa, as if trying to break free.

This is crazy.

I relayed Dopple’s words over and over again. “Motivation.” That was a word she made very clear. What was everyone’s motivation? Then, I reconstructed the events I’d just witnessed. I’d been invited by Mesmer to play a game. Dopple, Copper, Button and Maribelle came along. What were their motivations? I didn’t know. Button left after one game. Maribelle went with him. Mesmer left after one game with me. Copper left after a magic trick. Dopple left barely two minutes after that. I looked at the clock. All that had happened in less than half an hour. Act one, enter scene, exit stage left. 

Why? 

If Dopple and I had just sat for a while, shared stories, or we’d gone somewhere else, I might not have even given it a second thought. But now as I thought about it, I was overcome with paranoia. This dome wasn’t made for my benefit. I wasn’t the centre of the world. There was no reason to treat me with any kind of reverence. 

But then why!? 

I couldn’t possibly understand what everyone else was thinking. It had never been expected of me. I was always on the outskirts of society, of existence. I had five senses, yet everyone around me had six. I just never realized it. I could feel the others – Yoko, Dopple, Mesmer, Copper, Sanscript, Lancet, Inky – all crying out to me, screaming. The things that had happened that defied understanding, the things that were said that brought nothing but ambiguity and confusion, they had to mean something, I could feel it behind the veil… 

But I lacked the sense to quantify it. I was nothing but a blind stallion staring into the sun. And if I couldn’t even perceive such a thing, what reason was there to even consider it? Monobunny’s honesty was a comforting constant, as was the attention I got from others. Even if I struggled to discern their motivation, what difference did it make? It didn’t.

This was the lie that I told myself, the lie that I almost believed. It was the little voice at the back of my mind – the voice that I shouted down – that just barely saved me from insanity. 

And in its place was born a different breed of madness. 

For I was both a king and a fool.
> Protectors and Vultures
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t much longer before my life almost came to an end.

I’d left the rec room feeling a little jittery and headed for my room for some peace. I needed to compartmentalize my recent musings and wasn’t yet ready to head back into the fray. My room was the only place of solitude left. I plodded nonchalantly down the corridor and almost reached my door before I felt something touch my neck. I hadn’t heard them coming, (how were they so silent?) and I was far from ready for what happened next. I saw a razor blade flash across my line of sight and then felt it bury itself into my jugular. I was too shocked to speak or move as it was drawn across my neck in a neat, precisely cut line. I felt a warm stinging feeling followed by a bizarre euphoria. A sweet, almost citrusy sensation danced across my tongue. My vision blurred and then solidified to pinpoint resolution. There was a dull ache deep within my skull. It was horrifyingly painless. 

“Slice. And now you’re dead. How about that?”

I knew that voice all too well. Now that I knew who my attacker was, my mind raced to fully conceive what had just happened. I simply stared at the wall, convinced I was mere seconds from death. I was scared, but I wasn’t angry. I counted my blessings that I’d even felt the joy of the dome in the first place. When I was attacked in my apartment, I was sure that was it for me, but my life carried on in a wonderful way. I had cared for my attacker, and the knowledge that they’d chosen me to kill in order to escape the dome was at once crushing and comforting. They must have something worth fighting for, I told myself. 

I closed my eyes and turned around, my mind a blank slate. I wrapped my forelegs around my killer and pulled them into a tight hug. It was everything I wanted in that moment. “I forgive you,” I whispered. As I waited for my passing, I heard their breath catch in their throat and felt them shiver. Then I wondered slightly why my energy remained, why I was still standing without issue. Suddenly, I was flung against the wall with an almighty thud, my shoulder connecting hard and making me yelp in pain.

“What is wrong with you!?” 

I looked up, catching my breath. I traced a hoof under my chin and lifted it up to find no blood. The blade had grazed me, but hadn’t cut me open. The sensations I felt as I slipped into nothingness were all in my head. I was well and truly alive. I burst into a cheer, my mouth stretched into the biggest smile I could muster. “I’m okay!” I exclaimed. 

Copper stared back at me with a look of shock and puzzlement.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“What’s wrong!?” she repeated, her head shaking. “Damn it, Grey! I just tried to murder you! Is that all you have to say!?”

“You… tried to murder me?” My hoof reached reflexively for my neck once again.

“Well, no, obviously!” Copper cried, clutching her forehead. “I didn’t literally try and kill you, but I could have! More pressure on your neck, a more accurate slice of your main arteries… I held your life in my hooves! Don’t you realize that!?”

My voice cracked as I tried calming Copper’s hysteria. I knew what she was saying, but I was just happy to be alive.

“Answer me this,” Copper said, pointing a hoof at me, her entire body tensed like a beast about to slaughter its prey. “Did you think you were going to die just now?”

I nodded.

Copper exhaled sharply and sat down, her eyes closed. She pulled a hoof from her forehead down across her face in a slow, rough motion. “What the hell, Grey?” she said softly, teardrops forming around her eyes. “You can’t be like this.”

My cheeks flushed with guilt, though what I had done wrong, I wasn’t so sure. “Copper, um, I’m sorry, okay? But I don’t understand. Why did you do that just now?”

Copper sniffed and stared deep into my eyes. Seeing someone so beautiful look so torn up was heart-breaking. “I was trying to scare some sense into you,” she said steadily, having regained her composure. “I was spying on the rec room door after I left. I saw Dopple leave and then I waited for you. I’ve been worried about you, Grey. It’s like you’re in your own little world and you can’t see the truth.”

I averted Copper’s gaze sheepishly as more heat rushed to my face. “I’ll admit, I… I do sometimes zone out. Didn’t realize it was that obvious.”

“Well it is,” Copper continued. “And it’s going to get you killed. That’s what I was trying to prove by attacking you, to make you think about what’s really going on here. Three ponies are dead, Grey, and you could be next. I wanted to scare the hell out of you, even if it meant you were afraid of me. But instead you…” Copper took a few deep breaths. “Instead, you tell me you forgive me, even after I taunted you. You didn’t even try to fight it; you just accepted your death. That’s not normal!”

“But what should I have done?”

“I don’t know, kick and scream! Smack me in the eye! Bite at my flesh! Run for cover! Call for help! Something! Anything!” Copper was breathing rapidly now. “There are risks and there are dangers. You’ve given me one shred of hope that there was someone here I could trust, who had my back, but you need to get a grip. How do you plan on getting out of here if you’re dead?”

I had nothing to say. I hadn’t planned on getting out. Why would I?

“Tell me why you did it,” Copper demanded, taking a step closer. “Why take hold of me and tell me you forgive me?”

I stumbled over my words at first in an inane babble before managing to string together a sentence. “I mean, I like you, I guess, and there was nothing I could do but wish you luck, and I knew you’d have to have a good reason, so…”

“Really?” Copper said, unimpressed. “Because if I really had slit your throat you’d have caught me completely off guard and covered me with your blood, putting me at great risk during your murder trial and potentially giving the clue that would save everyone except me. If that had been your plan all along, I would commend you highly for such creativity and quick thinking. But that’s not the case, is it? Instead, you could’ve killed the very pony you were trying to support. Not a very noble end, huh?” Copper shook her head. “Like I said, it’s as if you’re not here in the real world. It’s like you’re having an out of body experience and just watching yourself, thinking up interesting things you could do. I don’t know what’s made you like this, but it isn’t right. Your life isn’t worth throwing away. At least, not to me it isn’t.”

Copper slunk away, her head held low. I simply stood there like an idiot and watched her round the corner, my head spinning. Her reaction, her rejection, I couldn’t stand it! I wanted to impress her and show that I wasn’t the foolish child that she saw me as. But if I simply begged I would be pushed aside. I needed something else, something that she would want. My brain spurred into action, guided by the lesson she had given me. Then it clicked. I ran after her.

“Hey! Not so fast!” I cried, reaching her before she could open her door. “You said I needed to be more aware, right?”

Copper looked at me with an air of anticipation. “Yeah.”

“Then I’m not finished with you!” I declared, the empowered booming of my voice exceeding my actual confidence. “You, um, shouldn’t have that razor blade in the first place! When you threw them away while Maribelle and Button were watching, y-you must have concealed it in your wings.” 

“And?” Copper said aloofly. “Your point being?” 

“You need to dispose of it, for safety. And how do I know you don’t have any more that you’ve hidden away?” 

Copper sighed softly and turned back towards me. “Okay, so what are you going to do about it?” 

“Well, I’ll need to search your room, and also your wings. You could have something else hidden in there, and if there’s a chance you could kill someone, I should try and stop it, right?” My voice came out light and foal-like. I wasn’t quite sure what I was saying or where my logic was headed, but I couldn’t let Copper go, not if I could make it up to her. 

“Alright,” she said, nodding. “And what if I was to take you into my room and kill you? How would that pan out?” 

“Then you’d be the first suspect,” I replied, playing the scenario out in my head. “Even if you didn’t leave blood stains you’d still have my body in your room, and trying to hide it would be difficult, so you’d probably get caught no matter what. Also, you just had a better opportunity to kill me and you didn’t, so it’s safe, I think.” I caught my breath as I finished my rambling. 

Copper eyed me thoughtfully. “There’s no such thing as completely safe – a killer could be reckless enough to try anything – but your logic is decent, I guess. Come on, let’s get this over with,” she said, walking to her door and pressing her keycard to the lock. “I supposed I should humor you for at least trying to learn your lesson.” 

I followed her inside and shut the door behind me while Copper walked to her bed and stood by it casually, keeping her eye on me. I felt a sharp chill run across my chest followed by the dancing of my stomach. I was now in a mare’s room for the first time, and the lack of space in the room buried the point home. In that moment I just remembered that I’d propositioned a search of her wings. Which I would have to do by hoof. I came halfway to fainting. 

“You didn’t have to shut the door,” Copper said. “This could be a trap, remember?” 

“I don’t think it is,” I replied, doing my best to stay cool. 

“Well.” Copper gestured in front of her. “You’re free to search the place.” 

I started with the bathroom as it gave me a moment outside Copper’s line of sight. I didn’t even make an effort, instead just looking from side to side and checking myself in the mirror to see if I was freaking out on the outside as well as the inside. Aside from some beads of sweat I looked somewhat okay.

“Nothing here,” I said, and checked the wardrobes. Nothing but a few of Copper’s towels. “Yeah, all done,” I said, hoping I could just leave. I was sure Copper wouldn’t hold me to my word if I made a point about having no reason to doubt her. As I turned around I saw Copper sitting on the bed with her wings fully extended. My heart just about fell out of my chest. 

“Let’s get this over with,” she said, looking a little anxious, but otherwise remaining perfectly serious. 

I stood in silence for a few seconds before lurching over. “Right.” Copper averted her gaze as I strode up to her left wing, its shimmering bronze feathers splayed out in a dazzling pattern. I had never seen a pegasus wing up close like this, especially not a pegasus with such a vast and impressive wingspan. I felt as if it could envelop me entirely. 

“What?” Copper said crossly. “What are you staring at?” 

“I just…” As awkward as I felt being so close to Copper, I was so entranced that my core emotion was one of amazement and wonder. I pried apart a bunch of feathers near the wingtip and felt their soft, velvety texture. “You have very nice wings,” I said absent-mindedly, almost forgetting Copper was even there. I pried apart some more and saw how deceptively dense each feather cluster was. I could see how it would be possible to conceal all manner of flat objects unless one delved through mindfully. 

I came to and realized Copper had her eyes and jaw clenched. “Oh!” I exclaimed, realizing how I must have looked. “Um, nothing in this wing,” I said, knowing full well I hadn’t searched it thoroughly. “N-next one I guess.” 

“Just quickly, okay!?” Copper barked. “Damn it, why am I even letting you do this?” 

I laughed, hoping it would lighten the mood. It didn’t. “So, um, Copper,” I began as I inspected the other wing, “I was wondering why you took the blade in the first place. Was it just to scare me?” 

“Sure, we’ll go with that,” Copper said hurriedly. 

“I was just worried you were planning on, you know.” 

“Don’t even talk about that stuff,” Copper snapped, snorting. “And no, I’m not planning on doing that.” 

I backed away, the brewing of uncomfortable atmosphere beginning to outweigh my delight in sifting through Copper’s feathers. I counted my blessings. Never gonna get a chance at doing that ever again, I thought dolefully. 

“So, I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” Copper said with an air of irritation, “because I’m not giving another.” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” I said, shying away. “I do trust you, really. I just didn’t want you thinking I was a sap.” 

“Well you still are,” Copper said, sighing, “but you at least made an effort. I just want you to think twice about things, alright? Keep your head out of the clouds.” 

“Right,” I said. “I will.” 

“Good.” Copper exhaled deeply. “I don’t want to see another dead body turn up, especially not yours.” 

“Why?” I asked. “Why me specifically?” 

“I’m not entirely sure,” Copper said shrugging. “I don’t think you’re a killer in the making. You’re pretty laid back – maybe a little too much – and you seem kind of hopeful without being conniving. That kind of– 


“I have to wonder, what are you?”


–thing means a fair bit in a place like this. Maybe you’re the one with the right idea, I don’t know.” 

“Oh,” I replied blankly. “Thanks, I guess.” A few seconds of silence passed. “Copper, um, you can put your wings down now.” 

Copper’s face ignited. She scorned me with an almighty frown and bared her teeth like fangs. “Or maybe you can just leave now? I want some privacy! I mean…” Copper thumped a hoof against her forehead. “Just get out of here, alright!? Now!” 

I quickly obliged without another word and scurried off to my room like a wild animal startled by gunshots, Copper chasing me out with ferocious fervor. 







I spent the rest of the evening by myself, splayed out on my bed. I could’ve ventured out for another meal, but I was more than used to sporadic eating habits given my no-finance background. I might’ve wanted a book to read in this situation – and there were tons to choose from – but there was a different kind of thrill to poring over the day’s events. 

I’d come to accept that Mesmer wanted to test me, possibly to prove that I was a bad detective, or to see if I had some kind of natural skill. I was thrilled to have beaten him in the game of kings and fools, but I knew that another challenge would await. I was both anxious and excited. Mesmer perplexed me the most. Sometimes vicious and scathing, sometimes kind… I wasn’t sure what to make of him.

But now I was being tested by others, and that spurred my anxiety and excitement to new heights. Copper had been clear. Dopple, not so much. Yoko… I couldn’t tell if he was testing me or not. Whether testing one another was a part of friendship sat beyond my comprehension. If it was, I wanted to give something back. A possible method eluded me.

I took a long hot shower and slept early, determined to start the next day off with a spring in my step. I wanted to train with Yoko, to search the dome with Dopple, and for Copper to see me in a better light. As for proving myself to Mesmer, there was only one thing that could bring about the opportunity. 

I dreamed of a party where everyone was smiling. We drank and danced and sang songs with words I will never remember. Then everyone was dead and covered in blood and I woke up in a cold sweat.







I was up and washed before my desk clock hit eight. Knowing Yoko would be in the gym I skipped along, meeting him as he concluded his morning exercises. I’d grown used to his size now, no longer intimidated but enthralled by his powerful presence. I wondered if this was the same feeling a small pet must feel when being cared for by its towering owner. I made for poor conversation and even poorer training partner, my body worn down by years of neglect, yet Yoko was apparently still pleased to see me. 

“You thought any more about what I said?” he asked as he sat down for a break from his workout. The sweat that poured off him was incredible, but he only had his towel handy, not a water bottle. 

“About what?”

“You know, what you want to accomplish. I’m sure there must be something you can do,” Yoko said with a shrug.

“Is… Is that your test for me?”

“Test?” Yoko looked confused. 

“Like, you’re setting me a task.”

“Well, I suppose so,” Yoko said, rubbing his chin and looking on thoughtfully. “But I wouldn’t say it like that. More like, I’m trying to get you to learn something. Calling it a ‘task’ makes it sound like I want you to do it for me, but I just want you to do it for yourself.”

“Oh, okay,” I said. “To be honest, I’d not really thought about it. I feel like I’m being tested by just about everyone and it’s a lot to deal with at once.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Yoko replied, looking concerned. “If you’re getting pushed around by anyone, you just tell me, right? Does this have to do with yesterday? Did Mesmer pressure you into something?” He shook his head. “I thought Copper would’ve taken care of you, but apparently not.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” I protested. “I’m being tested, but it’s actually kind of exciting. I feel like if I pass their tests it’ll… I’m not sure. When Mesmer tested me with a card game and I won, it was like a firework going off in my heart. Maybe that’ll happen again if I keep passing the tests.”

“Hmm. Just you be careful not to put yourself out too much. Test them as well.”

“Why?”

“Relationships are a two-way street. No-one should be expected to run around trying to impress the other while they set ever increasing standards. Some equines are vultures. They see a weakness, something they can manipulate, and they work it to their advantage. Sooner or later you could end up being just a pawn in their pocket.” Yoko frowned. “Don’t ever let that happen. Not here, not anywhere. Test them now while you still have a chance. Show them you’re not to be messed with.”

“I’ll try,” I said limply. I wasn’t sure how to deal with what Yoko had said. I thought back to Dopple’s speech about motivation. It was possible everyone else here was just a vulture looking to use me for their own ends, but that didn’t make any sense. As much as I tried conjuring up hypothetical scenarios there was always a gap in the logic. 

The only somewhat reasonable theory I could imagine was that by befriending me and appealing to my insatiable appetite for social acceptance, I would become too enamoured to doubt them during a murder trial, much like what had happened between Lancet and Shetland. It was true that I had figured out a great deal during the previous trial and delivered the final blow against Shetland’s testimony. It was then possible that others saw me as a voice of reason or the beacon of hope if another trial were to happen. The mere thought of it made my spine tingle and my heart once again yearned for that alien thrill of the hunt for the killer among us. If my thought was correct, my word in the trial would be treated with greater reverence. If so, by convincing me to trust them unconditionally, I could be blinded by evidence and assert that someone else is the killer, thus swaying the vote that decides our fate. As devious as a plan that was, it was still risky and convoluted to say the least. Not to mention, I was certain such tricks could never work on me. Trust wasn’t something I comprehended all that well, anyway. 

“Damn it,” Yoko muttered. “Why’d the psycho behind this have to choose guys like you to be here? You’ve never had your chance at life. Why couldn’t this have all been some hell-hole for criminals instead, or at least old windbags who had their chance? I wouldn’t have agreed with it, but I could’ve at least understood that kind of twisted morality. And some of you are so young, not even thirty. Hell, Button’s just a kid. A prodigy, maybe, but that’s just another way of saying he hasn’t hit the big time yet.

“Say, I remember hearing something when I was younger. Sort of a mantra or life lesson meant to teach us how to judge others and do right. It’s said that nobody sees themselves as the villain, that no matter how horrible or evil they appear, they themselves are only doing those things because they believe it to be the right thing to do. It’s supposed to explain things like racism, abuse, looking down on the poor, stuff like that. You know what I mean?”

“I think so,” I answered. “They’re mean to others because they think they deserve it.”

“That’s the general gist of it, yeah. You could be convinced that someone is poor because they did bad things, or that it’s okay to hit your foals because they’ll grow up into better adults, or that some races are just inherently worse than others, so you should ostracize them. It’s the same thing in each case; they just can’t see that what they’re doing is wrong.”

“I see,” I replied, smiling. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”

“Does it?” Yoko shot back, staring intently into my eyes. “I used to think the same thing. But the older I get, the more unsure of it I am.” He sighed and rested his head on the back of the vaulting box, his eyes to the ceiling. “I think evil – actual evil – exists. How else can you explain this place? Who could possibly think it’s their moral obligation to trap us here and watch us suffer? And who could know of all the terrors that have happened throughout history, things nobody even knows about?” The beginnings of a tear began to form in one of his eyes. “That newspaper article. You know, ‘hell is real’ and all that?”

“Yeah,” I said. “But the way I imagined it, that mare thought she was doing the right thing!”

“Maybe,” Yoko replied with a shrug. “Maybe she thought she was saving them from hell or whatever. But those sorts of things have happened before, many times. Foals slaughtered, tortured, and worse things than that, and none of it for the greater good. Horrible things committed by those who knew exactly what they were doing, either for personal gain or a sick sense of accomplishment. Not because they thought it was right, but because they knew it was wrong and they did it anyway. And if they truly did think they had the moral high-ground…” Yoko brought a trembling hoof to his mouth. “It doesn’t bear thinking about.

“The way I see it, either someone built this dome and created the killing game because they think they’re a force for good, or they just don’t care in the first place. I’m inclined to think it’s the latter, but honestly, I don’t know which I’d prefer. They both sound like demons to me.”

The door to the gym opened and Reph’s head poked into view. “Ah!” he exclaimed. “Don’t worry, I’ve found them!” he called down the hallway. 

“What is it?” Yoko asked.

“Y-you both need to come d-down,” Reph stuttered, staring at Yoko worriedly. “We’ve got a b-bit of a situation.”

“Another murder!?” I blurted out, my heart jolting violently. 

“N-no!” Reph cried back, shaking his head. “Nothing like that. J-just come down to the dining hall. Mesmer wants to hold a meeting. Y-you’d better be quick!” With that, Reph ducked behind the door and left. 

“Jittery fellow,” Yoko said, springing to his hooves. “Never seems to want to talk much, does he? Guess we’d better see what’s up.”

Yoko and I were the last ones in the dining room and took the right-side corner seats. A bowl and two plates were out on one of the tables, signifying the end of breakfast for some.

“You’re finally here,” Mesmer said as he stood by himself towards the far end of the room. “Now we can start. It has come to my attention that both yesterday evening and this morning there was an issue regarding the dangerous item checks in the MonoMart.”

“No!” Sanscript exclaimed. “Don’t tell me they weren’t done? Those checks are for our safety!”

“You tell ‘em,” Inky chimed in with in a hushed whisper. I just now noticed that she was sat next to Sanscript, looking all too pleased with herself.

“If you’d just let me finish!” Mesmer blared sternly. “The checks were still completed, albeit with fewer in attendance than the groups as they were originally decided. Button, you refused to leave your room last night, and Maribelle, you refused to leave his side.”

“So?” Button said with a yawn. “Dish Panner and Elsie went. Ain’t two enough?”

“No,” Mesmer said gruffly. “The entire point of sending four along at once is that it prevents a murder from taking place. You left Dish Panner and Elsie in a difficult position, as their only choices were to leave the task be and risk not discovering a missing item or risk each other’s company in the face of the weapons. Given that it was in the evening their time was extremely limited. You can’t excuse your laziness when the responsibility falls on someone else, and Maribelle, you need to be more forceful with him!”

“Yes, my apologies,” Maribelle said softly. “Button, this is very important, do you hear?”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Button said sleepily, his eyelids drooping back into place. 

Mesmer’s cheeks flared and he marched towards Button, levitating one of the plates above the colt. “Rise up!” he bellowed, smashing the plate on the table and making Button leap for his life. “I am not going to let some layabout get me or any one of us killed because of their negligence! Lastly, Inky! You never showed up to the MonoMart this morning!”

“Uh… Sorry about that,” the zebra mare said, smiling sheepishly. “I’d had a bit to drink last night and when I got woke up by my alarm I kind of tapped it, rolled over and went to sleep. First time saying that about an alarm clock, as it happens.”

“Incompetent!” Mesmer bellowed, snorting. He was frantic and twitchy in his movements – far more agitated than usual. It seemed he placed a great deal of significance on the MonoMart’s weaponry. And yet, it was obvious from my encounter with Copper that there were still many other risks out there. I decided not to speak up about that. 

“We need a system,” Dopple said, “a way for us to avoid this happening again.”

“A meeting place?” Lancet piped up. “For example, instead of meeting up outside the MonoMart at seven for the morning check we meet up at half past six somewhere else, then if not everyone has arrived by quarter to, we go and find them. If we can’t, we wake everyone up and wait outside the entrance.”

“That’s something, at least,” Mesmer said. “So long as those who fail in their duty are suitably reprimanded!”

“Sheesh,” Yoko whispered. “He’s getting more like Shetland every second.”

“What? Speak up!” Mesmer called, marching over to us. 

“I was just telling Greyscale that I should join his group since I’m not yet assigned to one,” Yoko said coolly. “I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

Mesmer exhaled through his nose and looked down. “Alright.” He walked back to his original place. “Any other ideas?”

Yoko raised his eyebrows at me. I had to admit, watching Mesmer act like this was unsettling. As aggressive as he could be he had generally been calm and deliberate. This Mesmer looked unhinged, as if the room was about to be ambushed by invaders and he was leading a final, desperate charge. 

Maribelle was still delicately brushing the ceramic shards from Button’s coat and the table as she eyed Mesmer with quiet rage. The others looked on in mild fear and incredulity, aside from Dopple, who appeared wholly calm but pensive. 

“Well, we could meet outside,” Dish Panner suggested, raising her hoof like a school-filly. “There are tables and chairs for us to sit down, and we can keep an eye on the time from the clock at the MonoMart entrance.” 

“I don’t know,” Copper said, grimacing. “If it were me, I’d want the meeting place to be closer to my room so I could make a getaway to somewhere safe, should anyone, I mean, anything go wrong.” 

The room was silent for a moment until Mesmer spoke up. “That’s something to consider, but I fail to see how that would eliminate the danger entirely.” 

“Whomever is the first to the meeting place would be at risk,” Copper continued. “If we meet outside, there are a number of places a potential attacker could be hiding. Behind the MonoMart, to the side of the hotel, even on top of it. Anything heavy dropped from that height could kill someone, and there’d be no way of deciding who the culprit was, at least between Dopple, Reph and I.” 

“Sounds rather paranoid,” Elsie said, rolling her eyes. “We can’t expect death from around every corner, and the outside tables are situated directly opposite the MonoMart. And like Dish Panner said, we have a clock there so we can keep an eye on the time. Unless you have a better idea?” 

“What about the rec room?” I suggested. “It’s inside and within not much distance to everyone’s rooms, there’s a clock on the mantlepiece, and we’d be able to sit more comfortably.” 

I was pleasantly surprised when it appeared that everyone began mulling over my words. I had contributed to the group without faltering or stumbling over my words. My heart swelled! 

“That might work,” Copper said with a smile. “At least then if someone was inside waiting for a chance to attack, they could easily be spotted. We could run from them and alert someone.” 

“We could alert someone outside,” Elsie huffed. “Shout loud enough and someone is bound to hear you.” 

“Sure, if you get that chance,” Copper said dismissively, shrugging her shoulders. “All I’m saying is, it eliminates at least part of the threat, and it removes some of the advantages that could be held by unicorns and pegasi.” 

“That’s true,” Lancet chimed in with, appearing somewhat eager. “You’d introduce an enclosed environment where an attacker could become trapped in the room and wouldn’t be able to know if someone else was in an adjacent corridor. So long as we’re careful and attentive while opening the door, we could alleviate just about every possible scenario.” 

“So much for learning to trust everyone!” Elsie hissed. 

“Trust can still exist with caution,” Lancet said softly. “Even an innocent foal is not left to play with fire.” 

“Whatever,” Elsie muttered, shaking her head. “Doesn’t look like I’m about to change anyone’s mind.” 

Sanscript cleared his throat. “If I may, Miss De Pone, why are you so adamant on having us meet elsewhere?” 

“I’m not,” the mare replied flatly. “All I’m saying is that we mustn’t pretend that we can eliminate danger so easily. Getting hopeful for something like that is foolish!” 

“Be that as it may,” Mesmer cut in with, appearing a little calmer, “Going with an idea that most are comfortable with is the most viable option. I don’t have any objections, personally. Does anyone else?” 

No hooves were raised and nothing was said. 

“Then it’s settled,” Mesmer said, emitting a small sigh of relief. “We remember our times and get to the meeting place half an hour before it. If anyone is absent at quarter to, we raise the alarm by knocking on doors and head out to find them. If they are missing, whomever else is around must fill their spot, and anyone who is late or refuses to carry out their duty will have to answer to me.” He glowered at the rest of us before standing up straight. “Understood?” 

Most offered their affirmative answer or nodded their head. Elsie and Maribelle, however, were preoccupied with their own thoughts. Their dislike towards Mesmer was plain as day. 

Mesmer left soon after, as did Reph, Maribelle, Button, Elsie, and Inky, who reported she’d be back soon after she ‘freshened up.’ Dish Panner brought out some salad bowls from the kitchen she’d prepared, commenting on how this gave her some slim semblance of normality. Yoko politely passed on the meal, taking a quick trip to the Mono-Mart and returning with a staggering amount of packaged noodles, shallots, garlic and chili peppers, and headed into the kitchen excitedly. 

I ate gladly and thanked Dish Panner, still far from used to such pleasures. After a few mouthfuls I turned to Sanscript who was a few seats over from me on my right, staring contemplatively into his salad bowl and nibbling at the pieces. I sidled over, taking my bowl with me. This is how it is to be normal, right? “What’s up?” I asked. “You look down.” 

“Oh, Greyscale, good to speak to you again.” Sanscript grinned kindly. “I’m not feeling down, so to speak, just a little troubled.” 

“Maybe I can help,” I offered blindly, feeling curious and self-assured. 

“Well, maybe,” Sanscript replied, furrowing his brow. He moved in closer and began to whisper. “So long as this isn’t spread to everyone, I hope you understand.” 

I nodded, barely containing my glee. 

“Alright. I’m just hoping I’m not being presumptive or deluded in some way; as it stands, I’m not the most adept at determining the wants and needs of others, so this could very well be the case. However, I must consider what my instincts are telling me.” He looked over my shoulder towards the doors and continued, even quieter. “Given the way Miss Ink Slinger has been treating me, often trying to get my attention and making questionable remarks, I’m ever so slightly inclined to believe that she may have a bit of a crush on me.” 

I stared for a while as Sanscript leaned back into his seat and let out a deep breath. “Oh,” I eventually said. “Um, what are you gonna do?” 

“I could perhaps question her the next time we’re alone, just to make absolutely sure if it is true.” Sanscript nodded assuredly. “I shall have to let her down gently. Such cruelty to be sure, but I must do so with kindness in mind. It would be callous to allow her to hope further when I am all too set in my ways, nor should any stallion worth his salt stoop so low as to abuse his status as an object of affection in an effort to fuel some wretched scheme. I hereby proclaim with a steady mind to act as a compassionate arbiter, lest I allow her desires to fester into lunacy. Alas, I do not feel as she may, so different and ill-suited are we.” 

Sanscript went back to eating his salad indignantly as Inky walked inside sporting one of Maribelle’s maid outfits and ruby-colored eye shadow, and Sancript greeted her by reaching a thirteenth shade of crimson, nearly choking on a lettuce leaf and having to revive himself by thumping wildly at his chest and leaping onto the floor, emitting a cacophony of shrill, gravely gasps for air. 

“On the floor?” Inky said, fluttering her eyelashes daintily. “My, my, since when were you so adventurous?” 

“Confound you, zebra!” Sanscript snarled as he got to his hooves. “I was merely surprised that you should take Maribelle’s attire, and at just the wrong microsecond! What are you even doing wearing that!?” 

“What? Oh, this old thing?” Inky said, looking dumb. “Maribelle said I could have it since she’s got spares. The fabric is really soft, see? Just feel this bit on my back. You can even rub your face on it, I won’t mind.” 

“Certainly not!” Sanscript blared with a scowl. Then his anger was eclipsed by a sudden mortified worry and he pushed past Inky towards the double doors. “I wish to be alone and in peace and quiet! Do not think to follow me, Miss Slinger!” He left, pushing the doors behind him and fleeing down the corridor. 

Inky laughed and called after him. “You can run but you can’t hide!” 

“You simply baffle me,” Dish Panner said sternly. “How is it that you’re so happy all the damn time? Are you hopped up on drugs or something?” 

Inky smiled and turned to her. “No,” she said placidly. “The way I see it, if I’m gonna die here then I’ll have every bit of fun that I can.” Her smile faltered for a moment and then returned. “So you don’t need to worry about me.” 

Inky walked out, calling after Sanscript as Dish Panner was left wondrously dismayed, as were we all. Everyone stayed silent after that. 

A minute later Yoko came out of the kitchen with three massive helpings balanced on one hoof and sat down. He looked around. “What did I miss?” 



 

“Made your decision yet?” 

I nodded, pushing aside my empty bowl. “Yeah. I’ll join you.” 

Dopple grinned. “I’m glad. We’ll start on the top floor and work our way down.” 

“Wait, just wait a second,” Copper said, rushing over. “What are you planning?” 

“We’re touring the dome again to look for clues,” Dopple said. “I’m afraid you’re not invited.” 

Copper’s eyes narrowed. “Just you and Grey? Well that sounds suspicious as all hell. I don’t approve.” 

“But if you were to spend time with him, that would be okay?” Dopple said, an eyebrow raised. “And it doesn’t matter whether you approve or not; Greyscale can make his own decisions. Or do you disagree?” 

Copper’s cheeks flared. “What I care about is not letting another murder happen when I could’ve stopped it.” 

“You don’t seem to care about Maribelle spending time with Button, Inky spending time with Sanscript, or indeed, Mesmer spending time with me. That seems suspicious. But don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you.” 

“This is fantastic!” Yoko exclaimed, slamming on the table and letting out a booming laugh that could test even the sturdiest of eardrums. “Two mares fighting over you!? What a thrill! Don’t let this chance go to waste!” 

“Shut up!” Copper cried. “That’s not what this is about. What did I talk to you about just this morning, Grey? About being careful?” 

“I want to go with her,” I said. I had already made up my mind. 

“Oh, damn,” Yoko said mirthfully. “Greyscale, you are savage! Copper, I think you’d better let it go.” 

“Please, not this again,” Copper groaned, rubbing her temple. 

“It’s what he wants,” Dopple said. “You should respect that.” 

I placed a hoof on Copper’s shoulder and smiled. “Don’t worry, Copper. If she tries anything, I’ll wrench one of her wings out of place and snap it like kindling. It’ll be absolute agony, I’m sure.” 

















Silence. I let my hoof drop. Silence. I yawned and stretched my forelegs. Silence. I unconsciously licked my lips. Silence. I looked curiously at my companions. Silen– 

I reeled. Blood rushed to my face. I felt a cold, lifeless force burrow its way through my spine and burst out of my neck, all fangs and icicles. My stomach tightened and my teeth chattered. 

“See?” Dopple said, giving Copper a compassionate look. “He’ll be fine. He’s ready and willing to defend himself. Come on, Greyscale.” 

“Hey,” Yoko said apprehensively, visibly fighting over which words to use. “I get you want to look tough in front of the mares but you might’ve crossed a line there.” 

“Yeah,” Copper said, biting her lip. “That’s… something for you to work on.” She laughed nervously. “I just hope it scared Dopple off the thought of killing you! I bet she’s putting on a brave face, you know.” 

Lancet and Dish Panner sat on the other side of the room, regarding me with indecipherable expressions. 

“That was a little dark,” Lancet said. “I fear you may have been referencing a story that we are none too acquainted with.” 

I abandoned the room with Dopple as Dish Panner began to speak after me. “Greyscale, don’t think anything of it. We know you were just trying to–” 

The door closed behind me and I heard no more. A few steps later I realized I’d been crying. 

When I had uttered those accursed words it was as if a cerebral link, separate from my own, had taken control of me, all while I sat in a sunken portion of reality. I perceived the words and the sounds, decided with my own mind to join Dopple, then, as Copper spoke of the dangers, I envisioned a fantastical scenario in which Dopple had charged at me, pinning me to the floor and unleashing a flurry of blows, overcome by murderous fury. I held my hooves up against the attack and scored a hit on her muzzle. She staggered back and I got to my hooves before she charged again and I evaded her, succeeding in hurling her against the wall, powered by her own velocity. Then as she struggled with flailing limbs and the gnashing of teeth I relived Shetland’s demise, the way his wings were so brutally mangled into misshapen branches of bone and blood. I saw these things and then remarked that I too could do the same, and stepped back into reality with the answer, the very solution to a bloodthirsty attacker, all wrapped in such vivid spectacle as to quicken the heart. 

But this was not a scene I relished or wished to enact. Not with Dopple, not with anyone. And yet some other force had thrust the notion of such things and I, my head beyond the clouds, had run with it like a playful foal flying a kite. I spoke those words with my mind still a mile away, their cruelty and malice nothing but window dressing to my senses. 

I actually said that I actually said that I actually said that I actually said that I actually said

I was quivering like a nervous wreck while Dopple wrapped her hooves around me. The warmth of her nape against mine and the sweet scent of her mane invaded my nostrils and stirred me just enough to awaken me from my dreadful stupor. “Hey, it’s okay. Look, you’re just not used to embarrassing yourself in front of others. Believe me, there’s no point in torturing yourself over it. They aren’t gonna think about it a fraction of the time you will. Let’s just get on with our plans, huh?”

But I didn’t accept that. I couldn’t. I begged Dopple to help me. As much as I believed she was telling the truth, I clung to the thick dark fear that had bound itself to my soul. We walked back into the dining hall together, and I – with Dopple’s help – delivered a heartfelt, albeit shaky apology. Even more so than last time everyone was incredibly supportive, taking stock of my emotional state and offering genuine sympathy. I felt a lot better after that, thankful that I had such good friends to support me, and more thankful to Dopple who hadn’t expressed even a flicker of doubt or unease. I caught my breath, once again in the land of the living and admittedly rather smitten with Dopple.

“Why didn’t you act shocked?” I asked once we were back outside. “I just talked about breaking one of your wings.”

“It did surprise me a little,” she replied, “but then I knew I needn’t worry.”

As I followed Dopple upstairs, wondering for what purpose she had chosen me as her companion on this day, I thought back to how quickly the atmosphere caused by my horrific comment had been dispelled, that everything was back to normal again and nobody had come to fear me.

As much as it tempered my heart, I found myself somewhat disappointed. It had all been resolved without much issue. I wondered then, as I plodded onwards, just how far I would have to go to truly make a difference. To reach such heights beyond the clouds. To achieve the unthinkable. 

To scare the others beyond their wildest nightmares.
> Another Tour
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Venturing into the swimming area once again was surprisingly troubling. Despite having come here since Pinkie’s murder in order to pay respects, with just the two of us visiting it felt eerily quiet. I wondered if anyone might wish to come here again for the purpose of swimming, but it didn’t seem likely. Yoko was the most plausible candidate, having previously joined Dopple and myself to bolster his exercise regimen, and Button had been dead set on getting Maribelle to accompany him so he could see her without any clothes. (Which was admittedly something that I actually wouldn’t have minded seeing.) But even so, as far as I was aware, aside from the memorial, nobody had come here since Pinkie’s death. I didn’t believe in spirits or the like, but even so, the place had gained a peculiar aura. Whether Dopple felt the same, I had no idea.

“What are you looking for?” I asked as Dopple scoured the pool perimeter like a hound-dog.

“I don’t know,” Dopple replied, not looking up. “I don’t know what I expect to find. Maybe you should look too. You might find something.”

I furrowed my brow. The walls of the room were plain and devoid of anything suspicious. I failed to understand how staring into concrete would reveal some almighty truth, but considering that it was Dopple who had suggested the idea – a mare who Mesmer claimed was the most intelligent of us all, someone of which he attributed great hope – I deigned to believe that perhaps I was missing something vital. 

We opened the room in the corner, still bereft of a working lightbulb and shrouded in darkness, illuminated only slightly from the less than stellar lighting of the swimming area. Nothing but swimming floats and foam boards, the same as before. Dopple began prodding the walls of this room, discovering only more concrete. 

“Looks like there are no secret passageways in here,” Dopple surmised as we left the third floor. 

“Secret passageways?”

“Haven’t you noticed?” Dopple said. “Monobunny manages to get around the dome in ways that don’t make sense.”

“Oh, I remember,” I replied. “But even if we find those passageways, how will it help us?”

“We won’t know that until we find them.”

I regarded Dopple thoughtfully as we neared our next destination – the library. “Tell me again, why did you want me to come along?”

“To learn more about you,” Dopple answered, finally meeting my gaze. 

“But why?”

“That’s not for me to say,” Dopple said, stepping into the library. 

“Why can’t you just tell me?”

Dopple stopped in her tracks and looked over her shoulder at me. “I already told you yesterday about motivation. My point being, sometimes a creature cannot, or will not, divulge their intentions, for whatever reason. Sometimes it’s because they assume their intentions to be understood through context, while in others it’s because their motives are meant to differ from what is immediately apparent.”

My mind swirled. “And what about you?”

“What about me?” Dopple replied stoically. “I just want to learn about you for the sake of it. Whether you are an ally or an enemy, learning about someone would be advantageous, correct?”

“I guess.” My shoulders slumped. “Why aren’t you as friendly as you were before? Is it because of what I said?”

Dopple paused. “I’m merely waiting for you to comply with my request. Once that’s done, I’ll become more friendly, I assure you. As for what you said, I can tell you now, that if I should ever attack you in a way you perceive to be murderous, you may do everything in your power to stop me, even breaking my wings if you so wish.”

I shuddered at Dopple’s declaration. We continued our tour by searching the library once again. “You wanted to hear about my life,” I said with a sigh. 

“If you may. As I said, I wish to learn more about you.”

This discourse wasn’t going the way I’d envisioned. I sensed an air of hostility I hadn’t expected. Yet still I pursued her, desperate to regain what had been lost. “There’s not much to tell. I’m not sure what you’d learn.”

“What about your interests?”

“Well, reading, I guess,” I answered with a shrug. “But that’s all I really have.”

Dopple looked up at this. “Tell me, does anything about the books in this library strike you as odd?”

I frowned, looking between the aisles. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“And what about the books you’ve read?”

“I haven’t read any of them yet.” The yet was nothing but a ruse. Every day that passed had lessened my desire to read, reality superseding my want for a window into another life. I doubted if I would ever put my nose in a book ever again.

“I see,” Dopple replied, her eyes still wandering down the aisle. It felt as if she wanted an explanation but decided it better not to ask. Either that, or she suspected me of lying. “Well, one thing that strikes me as odd is the lack of non-fiction. No books about history, biology, no encyclopedias or even biographies. Everything here is fiction.”

Curious, I traced my line of sight over the spines of the books that cluttered the shelves. While there were no signs or well-defined sections of the sort, and the books completely out of order by any means of alphabetization or size, from what I could tell, Dopple was right. “Maybe Monobunny thought we’d be better off with something we could just sit down and relax with.”

“I’ve read plenty of books,” Dopple said, “but few and far between were they works of fiction. If anything, I’d find a book telling of the natural world to be of much greater interest, so if that was the intention, it was ill-conceived.”

I felt a pang of annoyance at being told this. I knew it was a stupid suggestion, but the need to continue conversation had spurred me on. It hadn’t helped that the educational subjects of which Dopple spoke had never interested me in the slightest. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence then.”

Dopple grabbed one of the books, seemingly at random, and flicked through a few pages. Then she did the same again to the next few books in the same line. “This is odd, too,” she remarked, opening the pages before me. “Surely something is missing here?”

I saw nothing amiss at first, the first page offered the book’s title and author – ‘King of The South’ by Yarn Spinner – after which the words ‘Chapter One’ appeared in emboldened calligraphy. I stared, puzzled, until I finally understood. “There’s no other information,” I said. “No publisher details, no date of publication, no foreword from the author or anyone else. It’s just the story, nothing more.”

“Exactly,” Dopple said, showing me another book with the same lack of features. “Even the blurb is just a description of the story, no quotes or reviews from anyone.”

Intrigued, we both began to search through another twenty or so books with the same result. Upon discovering a few books that I’d read previously my curiosity intensified, and once I’d found a novel that not only had I once read but shared the exact same cover art, I was suddenly all the more fascinated. I showed this to Dopple and explained myself. “I know books get reprinted all the time, sometimes by different publishers, but this is definitely the same book I read before and not even the publisher logo is here.”

Dopple smiled. “That’s a good find. See, I wouldn’t have known that if you hadn’t told me. Thank you.”

I blushed a little at the compliment but continued with my train of thought. “It looks like everything related to non-fiction has been erased here. Is that Monobunny’s doing? I thought he was all about honesty and truth.”

“Who knows?” Dopple said, shoveling the pile of books back on the shelf. “But I think there’s some meaning behind it. Otherwise, why go to all the effort?”

I sighed, feeling my head throb. Ever since arriving here there were mysteries around every corner, taunting us, and I, with no idea where to even start, had left them aside. Why were we here? Who was the mastermind? What was the meaning of the newspaper article? The bronze statue? Monobunny’s cryptic remarks? The books? Even Mesmer had my mind in knots with his assertion that there were six among us who could potentially be the spy, and his question about Maribelle, whether she would be considered guilty if she’d been found with the means of the first murder hidden on her uniform. It felt like nothing was piecing together. And then there was my current point of wonder. 

“Dopple, please tell me. Why did you ask me along?”

Dopple was unfazed, but paused before answering, nonetheless. “Three reasons: Firstly, I didn’t want to search the dome by myself. Secondly, I thought perhaps another pair of eyes might see something that I could miss. I’ve had enough of Mesmer’s inputs on the matter. You’ve already given me a tidbit of information about the novel you’d read, which may end up being a help in the end. Thirdly, I want to learn more about you, upon which I can reveal a few things about myself. Is that fair?”

“Um, yeah,” I replied, a little overwhelmed by such a confident and detailed answer.

“So let me ask you a question,” Dopple continued. “Why did you agree to come along?”

“I suppose I was curious,” I replied nervously. “I wanted to see what you’d do, and, um, I guess I want to learn more about you too. The way you worked out that card trick was impressive, and after what Mesmer told me about you, I guess I wanted to see if it was true.”

Dopple tilted her head at this and frowned slightly. “What did Mesmer say about me?”

I was confused. Dopple herself had insisted that I ask Mesmer why he was attached to her, claiming that his answer would surprise me. It stood to reason that she would know full well what his answer would be. “He said you were the most intelligent of us all. Oh, and that you might be our best hope.”

Dopple shook her head sadly. “I can’t believe he said that.”

“But he’s kind of right, isn’t he? You’re really smart. That much is obvious.”

“That has nothing to do with it,” Dopple said, appearing dejected. “Sorry, but I’d prefer if we didn’t mention that particular comment again.”

I was surprised by Dopple’s reaction and yearned to know more, but her demeanor told me I should refrain from prying any further. Now my next task was the one I’d been dreading the most – talking about myself. Our next stop was the rec room, which we found to be empty. I plucked up my courage and began my paltry tale. 

I told of my youth, of the death of my parents and my eventual habitation with my uncaring aunt, of my life at school which I remembered little of. I spoke of being kicked out of the house and moving to my meagre apartment, the janitor position that I held and subsequently lost, my livelihood falling into disarray. We poked around the room at first, but soon sat on opposite sofas as I continued with my story. It was difficult to begin with, but became easier with each passing word. Dopple sat in silence throughout, attentive and composed. I had no idea how she could be interested in such pitiful matters. I felt a weight lift from me as I reached the end point, the moment at which I was inducted into the killing game. I finished with a long, drawn-out sigh, feeling refreshed but also saddened. 

“Thank you for that,” Dopple said. “I can tell it was difficult for you, but I truly am grateful.”

“Thanks.” I smiled nervously. “This is the first time I’ve told anybody about myself.”

“I understand why you might have been apprehensive, but you have no reason to be ashamed. Were you afraid I might think less of you once you’d told me?”

“Yeah, if I’m honest.”

Dopple shook her head. “Well, that’s not the case. If anything, it shows that you’ve been able to overcome your past, at least in some measure. When I first saw you in the shackle chamber you were wracked with despair once the monitor began giving out information. The thought of others knowing of your past terrified you, didn’t it?”

I nodded. 

“You’ve gotten a lot more confident in just a few short days.” Dopple smiled proudly. “You remarked how I haven’t been quite so friendly with you today. There’s a reason for that, although I can’t help but feel a bit guilty. You can correct me if you feel I’m wrong, but I think the Greyscale I met on the first day wouldn’t have had the courage to call me out on that.”

I furrowed my brow, giving Dopple’s comment some thought. “Yeah. You might be right.”

“Bit by bit, you’re becoming more independent,” she said firmly. “You’re speaking your mind more, for better or worse, and beginning to act of your own accord rather than follow the flow. A hermit might shy away, lose themselves in sorrow and grow even colder and more distant. You haven’t done that. When you made that comment downstairs about attacking me, I was actually kind of impressed. You came out with that, and sure, it probably wasn’t the right thing to say, but the important thing is that you came out and said something that nobody could expect, all of your own accord. I watched you initiate a conversation with Sanscript, not because you were pressured, but because you wanted to. You’re not going to get things right every time – not even those who have been social their entire lives do – but you’re making an effort, and the only way to go from here is up. Do you understand?”

I cupped my muzzle with a hoof and stared, transfixed by Dopple’s caring, hopeful eyes as tears threatened to form in my own. Everything she’d said made sense. But I had to ask one thing. “In the shackle room, you were the first one to approach me. And again, the next day, you invited me to come swimming with you. You could’ve been scared to death by the killing game, but you came to me. Why?”

Dopple appeared surprised by my question. She averted my gaze a little. “I was scared. I still am. But when I saw you, I felt that I needed to help you no matter what. I don’t really know why. Maybe, I felt that we had something in common.”

“But how?” I balked. “You’re famous and I’m a nobody.”

“I might be famous,” Dopple said sullenly, shrugging, “but that’s not all there is to it.” She sat upright and combed a hoof through her cloud-white mane. “Alright. Just as promised, I’ll tell you my story.

“I was born in Manehattan and raised by my mother, Solace, and my father, Dean Mammon. My parents were extremely wealthy thanks to my father’s business ventures, mostly in construction, but also some in agriculture, insurance and even a small hoof in restaurant chains. I don’t really know all the details. It was of little interest to me, and my father kept much of what he did to himself, neatly dividing his work life and family life. While not exactly a celebrity, he was well known in certain fields for his abilities as a shrewd investor, for being able to sense market fluctuations with startling accuracy, as well as for firing those he deemed unworthy without a second thought. He demanded the best and always got what he wanted. He knew just how far to push customers before they would think to back off, while treating his business partners with just enough respect to keep them in line. He was a master at reading others, their gestures, their facial expressions, and deducing what he could expect of them. He would work tirelessly and strike down anything that got in his way. With the way he was, it’s no wonder he earned himself a small empire. 

“One day, while going for his routine medical check-up, he came across an earth pony nurse whom he thought irresistible, and charmed his way into her heart. That nurse’s name was Solace. A few years later they would marry, and a few years later still, I was born. My birth came as a surprise to them both since they’d been struggling to have a foal, and so I was doted upon like a princess. I was their little miracle.

“Unfortunately for my mother, she’d been taken ill whilst pregnant and remained under care. She remained in poor condition even after I was born, suffering from intense migraines, bouts of sickness, and nervous trembles that impaired her movement. As such, she remained at home and was seen to by a private physician, rather than sent to a general hospital. This went on for about three years until after I was born and she slowly began to recover, eventually regaining her full health. It seemed as if luck was finally on her side, until she died in an accident years later, falling to her death while sightseeing in the Griffon Kingdom. I was eight years old at the time. 

“I didn’t accompany her on the trip, however, nor did my father. I don’t think their marriage was one of true love, more that my father wanted a trophy to place his foreleg around and my mother wanted a means to splash out on lavish luxuries. In fact, I think my father only wanted a wife as a means for a foal, one who would inherit his estate. I sometimes wonder how much longer their marriage would have lasted if I’d not been born.

“And so, my father and I were left alone. After my mother’s death he became all the more devoted to me, easing off on his work schedule to raise me. It might sound like a dream come true, that I might otherwise have been cast aside by my only family, but in reality I almost wish that had been the case. 

“I’d been privately educated since I was five by some of the best tutors and professors around. It was unorthodox, but my father paid mind to no expense when it came to my education. You see, my father saw something in me, a potential for greatness. From a very young age I showed immense logical aptitude and high intelligence but also an ability to absorb and hold on to vast amounts of information. Not only that, but I shared my father’s natural ability to analyze others and deduce their emotions, intentions, and inclinations. In fact, my abilities in that regard were even further beyond his. For these reasons, I fascinated him. I wasn’t so much a daughter as a scientific experiment. My mother was always there to take the edge off these teachings and allow for some childish fun, at the disgruntled behest of my father. When she died, those times died with her. From then on, I was under the hoof of my father, destined to study, with the goalposts forever moving. It was all so he could transform me into what he dubbed The Ultimate Savant.

“My teachings were relatively simple to begin with, just high-level extensions of subjects that were taught in school. I wasn’t exactly averse to these things; in fact, I rather enjoyed my studies. But as time went on, I began to lament my seclusion, trapped in a great shiny mansion with no-one else to talk to but the same old faces. My father didn’t want me conversing with commoners. ‘The average pony is just a bundle of worthless nonsense,’ he would say. He thought that if I made friends with others my own age it’d impede my progress towards his desired goal. I had access to the gardens and was occasionally brought outside to dine in fine restaurants or sightsee in famous locations around the globe, but these excursions were also done in the name of education. I didn’t really know any different, but even I began to understand that something was wrong. I didn’t see any other foals like me, not anywhere. And any time I tried to make contact, my father would snap me back to his side and chastise me.

“When I was around twelve or so a new professor turned up to teach me about psychology, or rather, how to manipulate others. It didn’t appear that way at first, but it soon got to a point where even the tutor was becoming increasingly uncomfortable about the subject matter. He saw what my father was doing and felt it was unethical. My father, however, had money, so the professor kept quiet, at least for a few months. He stopped coming after that and I got a few new tutors that didn’t share the same moral compass. 

“My studies became increasingly intense. I was forced to plough through all manner of exams and standardized tests. I’d do well, of course, far beyond what was expected of my age, but it wasn’t good enough. No, I needed to be the best. Whereas before I was showered with praised, called ‘gifted’, told I would change the world, now my accomplishments were unremarkable, decent, predictable. I tried harder, and harder, pouring every ounce of my brainpower into my work, desperate to feel validated. The effects were only temporary. Once the bar was raised it only became harder to pass over it.

“Eventually I grew disdainful of my treatment. Rather than push myself I would deliberately fail assignments and feign ignorance and stupidity in front of my professors. I thought if I stopped showing any signs of potential my father would give up altogether and I could be let loose upon the world. That didn’t happen. My father saw right through me and I only increased the problems I would come to face.

“I tried a third option: running away. One night, I took some supplies from the kitchen, packed them into a travel bag and flew out of my bedroom window into the streets of Manehattan. I planned to hide out in an abandoned factory. I knew it was abandoned because of a comment my father had made to a visitor a few weeks prior about its closure, with the company owners relocating to better suit their needs. With the factory as my temporary home, I could use some of my money to keep me going and look for a chance to offer myself up to foal services. In the state I was, coming from an upper-class environment, I’d never be able to pass myself off as in need of help, so I needed some time to deliberately impoverish myself in order to pass myself off as a poor, lost orphan. 

“Not the best of plans, I’ll admit. I might’ve been able to come up with something better eventually, but I was desperate. I acted irrationally, and that was my downfall. Only a day after leaving I was pounced upon as I slept and dragged back to the mansion by force. It was my father. I still don’t know for sure how he managed to find me so quickly. Maybe he had a way of tracking me, either through a tag, magical aura, or through surveillance. Or maybe he knew me better than I gave him credit for. He could’ve remembered that he’d mentioned the factory in passing and put the pieces together. A scarier thought was that he deliberately mentioned it in front of me as a test, feeling that I was on the brink of rebellion and planting a seed of hope so that he could squash it at a moment’s notice. Whatever it was, after that, my means of escape were locked off altogether. 

“He was angry, upset, but didn’t exactly scold me for running away. He kept telling me that this was for my own good and I should be more grateful, that so many other parents were lazy for not allowing their children to reach their true potential. He wanted me to be the best and reap all the benefits. He cried that day and held me in his hooves.” 

Dopple paused, taking a few slow, methodical breaths. “I don’t know if he ever truly loved me, but I do think he fully believed he was doing what was right and just. He told me over and over again that any suffering I felt now was insignificant compared to the boundless joy and opportunities I would feel when I grew up. I… would like to think it meant more to him than just a boost to his ego or a gold star on his list of accomplishments. 

“I became more obedient, repelled by the hopelessness of my seclusion and beckoned with the prospect of a brighter future. I wanted to know what lay before me and asked my father incessantly. ‘All in due time,’ he said. ‘As a filly, you may not grasp the importance of the things you will attain, but know that you have much to look forward to. You will stand tall above all others.’ It was just enough to spur me onwards and strive for greatness. It was hope… hope alone that kept me going. Hope: the most valuable and most dangerous of all things. 

“By the time I was seventeen I could surpass every professor and tutor that father threw my way. I began to see flickers of terror in their eyes, minute expressions of panic and repulsion, as if they were conversing with a demon. Others grew weary and envious of me. The final few were disinterested, their minds forever hovering in their savings account. However, they all shared one thing in common: not a single one of them enjoyed my company. This was the future I had paved for myself with blood, sweat and tears.” 

“But… how?” I asked. “Why didn’t any of your tutors like you? Was it because of your father or was there something wrong with them?” 

“That’s sweet of you to say,” Dopple replied, smiling for the first time since beginning her story, “but the truth is, I was the problem. The mare you’re speaking to now is rather different from my younger self. Back then, nothing mattered more than the pursuit of knowledge. If they bored me, I would ignore them. If I felt they were wasting my time, I would cut them off. If they told me something I believed to be false, I would become angry and flippant. In some rare cases I would become insulting and derogatory. Even after I realized my failings it was all too much effort to stop myself. I was even more repulsive than my power-hungry father, whom I simultaneously loved and despised. 

“I confronted him one evening, expressing how discouraged I was by my apparent state of revilement. To my surprise, he listened with the utmost concern. He pondered on it for a while, telling me to wait until morning for his final say on the matter. The very next day he dismissed my tutors – every last one. I was bewildered, racked with paranoia that this was just another ploy to… Well, I don’t know what. By that point the prospect of my studies coming to an end was merely a pipedream. Now, I was ready for the next step, staying by my father’s side as we shared his empire.” 

Dopple sat back in her chair and laughed weakly. “You’re probably wondering, after all that, how the hell I ended up as a stage-show impersonator, right?” 

I nodded gravely. “Well, yeah.” 

Dopple sighed and licked her lips. “Well, that future my father had planned for me was indeed laid with gold and accolades. But that was the problem. I had the knowledge and the sense to drive businesses forward, to make educated decisions and address visionaries and geniuses on the same level while others in my position spoke in techno-babble and the control of the masses. I was more than capable, and I could’ve delved into any field of my choosing. 

“But I was hopelessly passionless, broken inside by the life I’d led. My father kept me on a strict path, to earn, to absorb, to expand, and to dominate. My question was, to what end? And the answer was, there was none. Bigger. More. Those same moving goalposts I’d had to deal with my entire life were back. Now, I was set to forever chase that next number, because enough was never enough. The thought of living like that filled me with an indescribable dread. I yearned to feel something beyond the pleasures of wealth. I know that may come off as insulting to you, as someone who has been poor their entire life, but I can only express how I truly felt. Anyway, I eventually made a drastic decision; I ran away from home again. 

“I went along with my father’s wishes for a while, gaining access to funds so I could start a new life. I won’t go into the details as it was a multitude of different decisions. Eventually though, after gaining my father’s trust, I was able to move out to a home in secret under the guise of a property venture. I tricked him, cut contact, and most importantly of all, changed my name to Dopple Ganger.” 

“Wait,” I cut in with. “Dopple isn’t your real name?” 

“Oh, it is,” she replied. “I had it officially changed by deed poll.” 

“Then what was your original name?” 

“I never really liked it,” Dopple said, sighing. “Buttercup.” 

I snorted mirthfully. “I don’t know, I kind of like it.” 

“Anyway, after moving away, changing my name and also my appearance,” Dopple lifted a few wisps of her frilly white mane with a hoof. “Believe it or not, this used to be long and flowing. I guess cutting it was a kind of juvenile rebellion to enrage my father. All in all, I wanted to remove myself from his shadow. I took up a small job performing at a comedy club. That was how I first got my start as an impersonator. 

“Now why, you might ask? I suppose it seemed like a good way to find friends, make them laugh, not to mention low-brow enough for my father to be distraught. I guess I wanted him to love me even if I went against everything he had ever wanted for me, that he could just be happy that I was happy and support me, even if I was nothing like the daughter he’d envisioned.” Dopple exhaled, shaking her head. “It never happened. I… don’t know if I was just being a selfish brat, or if he got what he deserved. What do you think?” 

I shrugged nervously. “I don’t know.” 

“Me either. Maybe I’ll figure that out one day.” 

The room was quiet for a while, Dopple staring off into space. Her story had left me feeling simultaneously drained and invigorated. She had poured out her heart to me, and as enraptured as I was, I felt my soul being dragged into a dark, sorrowful pit. I had no words to aid her. 

“Well,” Dopple said, getting up. “That’s all in the past.” 

“Wait, I have a question. You said you became an impersonator, so…” 

“Oh.” Dopple chortled. “I forgot about that part. You see, as much as I was adept at detecting even the slightest emotional leak in someone, I was also able to mimic them. The times I spent alone I would sometimes imitate my tutors in front of the mirror, trying to replicate every last facet of theirs, even their voice. It brought me a semblance of joy to make fun of them behind their back, and I got wrapped up in my own little dream world. Years went by and I got better. I never thought it was special, but the more I shared my talent as an adult, the more I realized how uncanny my abilities were. I would sneak a word in to a waiter or waitress at a ball or social event and watch them gawk in astonishment and amusement as I picked apart a rather unlikable guest. It was the first time I’d ever truly had fun.” 

“Can you show me?” I asked giddily. 

“Oh, a demonstration?” Dopple’s eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. She stormed toward me with a sky-rending glare. “Don’t you dare think to mock me, cretin! I’ll have you know, ‘snap’ is a card game that tests the very limit of one’s intellect! Its depth is immeasurable, but I’m sure a lesser being such as yourself couldn’t even begin to grasp that fact.”

I cowered into the other side of the sofa, Dopple’s eyes mad and fierce. As I stopped and stared, I finally realized. “Mesmer?”

Dopple’s demeanor transformed in an instant and she held a hoof up to her mouth, chuckling. “You like my impression of him?”

I was stunned. Although Dopple’s voice was admittedly a tiny bit higher, her version of Mesmer was uncannily close to the real deal, the miniscule flinches of his cheeks and his guttural speech patterns were replicated perfectly. I had no doubt if I’d heard the performance with my eyes closed, I would have assumed it to be Mesmer in a heartbeat. 

“That was incredible.”

“Thanks,” Dopple said cheerfully. “I can do other ones as well if you’d like.” She cleared her throat. “Hey Sanscript…” Dopple licked her lips and winked in a seductive manner, slapping her flank playfully. “I’ve got a game we can play. First you put on a blindfold, then you have to guess what’s in front of you by how it tastes.”

My heart caught in my throat. “Th-th-that sure sounds j-just like Inky, huh?” I laughed nervously, looking away in a vain effort to keep myself together.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Dopple said pleadingly, blushing hard. “I’m not like that at all, I promise! Just, when I’m doing an impression of someone, I get caught up in the act. I completely become them. I guess I should’ve toned that one down.”

“Y-yeah, maybe,” I replied, sweat suddenly beginning to drip from my forehead.

“Well here, I’ll make this the last one,” Dopple offered, still a little flustered. “Let’s try someone who’s not in the dome.” She struck a pose with an air of power and regality, extending her wings to full bore. “Citizens of Equestria!” she blared in a commanding tone. “We must remain vigilant against those who would seek to destroy us! Not least of all, the terrifying banana thieves! I shall see to it that they never steal one of my precious fruits again! Should they cross me, I’ll send them to the moon!”

“Oh,” I uttered. “Um, sorry, but I don’t know who that is.”

“You don’t?” Dopple looked remarkedly confused. “That’s… the first time anyone’s said that about that particular impression.”

“It’s fine,” I said, waving a hoof dismissively. “Like I said, I pretty much kept to myself, never really got involved in the outside world. I probably don’t know them because of that.”

Dopple appeared worried by my statement, though she quickly passed it off due to my explanation. I felt bad for not having even the slightest clue who she was trying to impersonate. It appeared she had been making a concerted effort. Even still, there was no doubt that Dopple deserved the title of Ultimate Impersonator. It was just a shock that this was her apparent claim to fame when she had so many other talents. I could understand though, why she wouldn’t want those to be her defining feature, since she lamented her upbringing. 

We poked around the rec room, finding nothing of interest except for the fact that, just as with the books in the library, all mention of publisher and manufacture information had been wiped clean from the pinball machine and board games, leaving only their rules and base components. It was an odd observation, but I couldn’t begin to discern whatever deeper meaning it could have. 

The utility room was next, nothing out of the ordinary except for the exercise bar that Inky had put up previously. Seeing no harm, we left it in place. The cupboard contained a selection of cleaning equipment: cloths, mops, brooms, floor cleaner, all general supplies that appeared untouched from our initial tour. I wondered then if Maribelle would volunteer to become the dome’s personal maid. She had shied away from such duties so far, though it was still early days, and there were more pressing issues to attend to. 

We strolled into the laundry room which was predictably empty and silent. Dopple appeared notably attentive as she strode around, pacing down the same pathways multiple times as if expecting a new revelation. My attention was instead pulled to the machines that were housed within, great towering, metallic, clunky behemoths. They were akin to those you’d expect in a launderette, but with an archaic design. They had time-worn yellow buttons and a compartment that jutted outwards, presumably allowing for the direct addition of fabric conditioner into the tumbler. Again, I considered them wholly excessive, especially since only two occupants regularly wore clothes. Not only were there many, but they were possibly even big enough for a pony to fit neatly inside. 

Searching the MonoMart felt redundant at this point. We’d all gone in and out so many times it wasn’t likely we’d find something. But still, we did so anyway, with Dopple leading the charge. Her attention eventually fell on the rack of weapons and the stock numbers painted on the floor tiles. 

“Something wrong?” I asked. “It’s not time for us to count them yet.” 

“I know. I just have this terrible feeling.” 

“You think someone tampered with the numbers?” 

Dopple shook her head. “I’ve had them memorized since I first read them. Not only that, but I’ve corroborated this with Dish Panner, Elsie and Dr Scalpel, as they were here while the numbers were first written, and we all had the same list. I can’t be the only one to know them by heart, either.” 

“That’s a good thing, right?” 

“Yes, but I’m still not convinced it ensures our safety.” 

We left soon after and began our lap of the dome’s open spaces around the hotel and MonoMart, nothing but the ominous bronze statue and the cloud that hovered forever above it to require our attention. It had been a hopeless endeavor, and Dopple appeared visibly discouraged. 

“I don’t think this idea will go down well,” she said, biting her lip, “but I think we should be extending our preventative measures.” 

“How?” 

“I’m not sure. Like we discussed before, the safest possible way to live here would be for everyone to remain together at all times, but that would drive some of us mad. I’m thinking we could have regular room searches and designated curfews, but that’s asking a lot. We’ve already had issues with the weapon checks as it is, and piling more responsibilities on top of that will be overwhelming.” She sighed. “There’s just no easy answer, is there?” 

We parted ways, each taking to our rooms to rest before the evening’s weapon check. I spent my time gazing endlessly at the ceiling as I let my mind wander between visions of merriment and death. I eventually fell into a peaceful sleep.





…And was woken by a steady knock at the door and my name being called. Looking to my alarm clock, I could see it was almost time. 

“Don’t tell me you fell asleep,” Dopple said chidingly. “You’re lucky I came to get you. Mesmer would go crazy if you were late.” 

We walked downstairs towards the rec room. Dopple was just about to push the door open when she stopped suddenly. She furrowed her brow and placed an ear up against the door, two distinct, deep voices emanating from the room. I crept forward and followed suit, catching the middle of a conversation. It was Yoko and Mesmer.

“–with a little respect. You’re making the others nervous.” 

“We should all be a little nervous in this place. And as far as I’m concerned I would rather everyone hate me than see their corpses turn up.” 

“Don’t act like you can’t be better. You think you’re the authority figure here, but you’re just embarrassing yourself.” 

“I must be having déjà vu. Why do you always have a problem with someone trying to lead us? Would you prefer absolute anarchy?” 

“Don’t talk shit. Of course I don’t want that.” 

“But you admit to thinking I’m just another Shetland?” 

“You sure act like it, smashing a plate and scaring Button half to death. Those shards could’ve gone in his eyes but of course, you’re ever so caring, right?” 

“Don’t exaggerate. And are you perhaps insinuating that an act of rage is the precursor to murder? I think you of all ponies should think twice about that.” 

“You know, I honestly hoped this would go differently. I genuinely thought that maybe you’d apologize and come to your senses. But no, you’re even more pig-headed than I thought.” 

“See it however you want to. I’m just trying to do the right thing.” 

“You mean by manipulating others? If you think I don’t see what you’re doing to Greyscale you’ve got another–” 

Dopple opened the door abruptly and stepped inside. It took a concerted effort to keep my balance and not fall headfirst into the room. “Oh, sorry, are we interrupting something?” she said, looking abashed. 

“No, it’s fine,” Yoko said. “Hey there, buddy,” he said with renewed cheer as I entered. He was standing close to Mesmer’s side, almost looming over him. “I guess you finally decided who gets to be your girlfriend, huh?” 

“Yoko, behave,” Dopple said sternly. 

“I see you like the scary ones,” Yoko said with a chuckle. 

Sanscript arrived a few minutes later and the five of us set off for the MonoMart. Mesmer kept to himself, apparently unwilling to even address me, while Yoko remained relatively chatty. A part of me wanted to confront them on their behavior but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Mesmer, Yoko, Dopple, Copper… It was hard to accept that the ponies I felt closest to could have such feuds with one another. 

As we marched towards the store’s corner I noticed Sanscript constantly checking over his shoulder, appearing a little on edge. 

“Y’alright there?” Yoko asked. 

“Oh, me?” Sanscript exclaimed, jumping to attention. “Yes, yes.” 

“You seem to be expecting someone.” 

“That blasted zebra,” Sanscript muttered, shaking his head. “She won’t leave me alone! I keep thinking she’s around the next corner, ready to pounce!” He turned to me, gravely, his lips pursed with a stone-like seriousness. “I really am beginning to think she might like me.” 

Yoko snorted with laughter. “Why don’t you just go along with her advances? You could make a great couple.” 

“Over my dead body!” Sanscript blared. He cleared his throat. “It can’t be done, I’m afraid.” 

“Can’t?” Yoko asked. “Why can’t it?” 

Sanscript’s jaw fell and he struggled for words. “I meant to say it won’t be done.” Sanscript’s delivery of such a phrase was as awkward as could be expected. “Look, can you please just drop it? We have an important task to take care of.” 

Together, Mesmer and Sanscript levitated the collection of knives, shears and other tools from their racks and rested them on the floor, allowing us all to compare our count with the painted numbers. 

“Same again,” Mesmer said once the task was done, everything matching up as expected. “We can’t let ourselves get complacent, though. One day we might not be so lucky.” He began lifting them back into place. 

“I was just wondering,” Yoko said, “how long you’re planning on keeping this up?” 

Mesmer stopped for a moment, his eyebrows falling, before continuing as before. “For as long as it takes.” 

“As long as what takes?” 

“We escape.” Mesmer shunted an axe into place harshly. “I see no reason to stop until then.” 

Yoko exhaled. “And what if we don’t?” 

“Then we keep doing this every day for the rest of our lives,” Mesmer said matter-of-factly, his eyes focused on his work. “I’d ask if you have a better idea, but I’m not so sure that’s what you have to offer. No, you strike me as the kind of stallion who feels that you must rebel,” he said, emphasizing his final words with a deliberate sting, shunting a crowbar back into place. 

“Mesmer,” Dopple snapped, stepping up to him with a harsh glare. “Stop it. Yoko, leave it.” 

Yoko laughed sardonically. “You really went there, huh? I spent most of my life under my master’s tutelage and never once spoke out against him. You know why? Because he was a good leader. He knew how to be a mean old bastard while still commanding respect. You think everyone here likes you?” His eyes flickered over to Sanscript then back again. “I’m not the only one who has a problem with you. Maribelle, Button, Elsie, and I wonder who else? Quite the target you’ve got painted on your head.” 

Mesmer’s demeanor drooped ever so slightly. He still hadn’t turned to look at Yoko. “Their safety is more important.” 

“Exactly!” Yoko cried. “And as the saying goes, there’s safety in numbers, but only if those numbers stick together. Without a great leader, a group can only drift apart. Either do more for everyone else or step down.” 

“Or what?” Mesmer growled. 

“Mesmer! Yoko!” Dopple commanded, spreading her wings and stepping between them. “I won’t say it again!” 

Yoko sighed. “Alright, alright. This isn’t fair on the rest of you, is it? I’ll be good, I promise.” 

Sanscript and I exchanged worried glances. The atmosphere had grown tense and dull. After standing in silence outside the MonoMart, waiting for it to finally close, I took to my room. Considering we’d be meeting up for the morning check, an early night was in order. I took a shower and fought to fall asleep, my mind full of unrest. What I wanted most of all, in that moment, was for my friends to finally get along. I wanted a happy family. 







I’d just stepped into the shower when I heard a distant thud, like a hammer going through a block of plaster. I jumped a little, turned off the showerhead and began to listen intently. I stood for almost a minute in complete silence, waiting for the next noise, my heart pounding. My first instinct was that someone had knocked on my door to get my attention, but I knew it wasn’t the same sound. My wall? I considered that someone was trying to get my attention from the gym, and if that was the case, it was likely to be Yoko. 

I dried myself off and left my room, my alarm clock reading 06:11. I looked through the peephole, checking that nobody was waiting for me on the other side before slipping out and into the gym. 

Nothing. I pottered around, checking behind the equipment for a sign of someone or something. I walked around aimlessly, as if the answer was going to jump out at me. Then I heard another noise, this time a series of thuds, but much quieter than before. My pulse quickened. I could feel it in my bones – something terrible had happened. But instead of leaping to the rescue I was rooted to the floor, my fear bubbling up inside of me. I stood in front of the gym door for almost a minute, the tiniest change to the silence drawing a terrifying picture in my mind. With a burst of courage, I opened the door and immediately leapt in terror.

“Greyscale!” Lancet exclaimed, as startled as I was. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” I replied after catching my breath. “There was some kind of noise. I thought it might have come from in here.”

“Then you heard it too?” Lancet was shaking, her eyes darting about as if searching for a roaming killer. “There’s no body discovery announcement.” She clenched her eyes, fighting back tears. “Sorry. I just… I’m assuming the worst. We should still be careful, though. It sounded like someone went through a wall.” 

The two of us walked cautiously down the hallway, passing Dopple’s room. I tapped lightly on her door. Come on. Get up! Please be okay! I knocked harder. “Dopple, are you in there!?”

The door opened and Dopple stepped out. She quickly took stock of Lancet and I and nodded affirmatively. “We need to move,” she said brashly. “And all three of us, stick together.”

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but we need to find out. If it’s what I think it is, then we have to be careful.”

I felt newly invigorated with Dopple at my side. With her around, I was sure we could tackle just about anything. 

My self-assurance lasted only a matter of seconds. After creeping down the hallway and turning the corner, Lancet let out an ear-piercing scream and fell down in shock. 

A door burst open from behind us. “What’s going on!?” Elsie yelled, racing towards me and pinning me to the wall with surprising strength. “Greyscale, you fiend! What did you do to…?” 

Her voice trailed off as the four of us looked on in disbelief. I didn’t think it could be true, didn’t want it to be true. I had to know. I had to be certain. I wrenched myself away from Elsie’s grasp and bolted forward, further down the hallway. The closer I got, the more the image in front of me solidified and my blood ran like ice. I stood there, trembling, just a few feet from where the corpse lay, bloodied, battered and broken, as if an eldritch monster had ripped it to pieces with razor-sharp talons. Pieces of bone, flesh and organs had spilled onto the carpet. I didn’t even know a single pony could produce that much blood. I reached forward, as if to save them, to resuscitate them, even though I knew it was useless. That’s when Dopple pulled me back as Monobunny’s voice confirmed the inevitable. 


*DING DONG DONG DING*


“A body has been discovered! Please make your way to the hallway outside Antonio Rephael’s room! After a certain amount of time has passed the murder trial will commence! Now go forth! Gather clues! Find the culprit! Your very lives depend on it! Pu-hu-hu!”

“No…” I heard Lancet mutter. “Not again. This can’t be happening.”

“L-l-look!” Elsie sputtered, pointing towards the victim’s neck. It looked as if a small, burned twig was poking out. I couldn’t even discern what it truly was. With her magic, Elsie carefully pulled it free, revealing a bloodstained combat knife with a gleaming blade about ten inches long. Dark blood oozed from the gaping wound like water from a faucet. “H-h-how can this be!? W-we m-made so sure that… that…”

Elsie’s eyelids fluttered and she collapsed to the floor, the knife falling with her. Dopple sat against the wall, shaking her head and muttering to herself. Lancet began sobbing wildly, turning away from the horrendous sight before us. I, meanwhile, could only stare in horror, barely able to stand. 


















Yoko was dead.
> Investigation Two
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Other faces began to appear, everyone congregating on the scene of Yoko’s demise. Their arrival was accompanied by shock, horror, and intense bawling. Mesmer appeared angry, his cheeks flaring, and nary spoke a word. After recovering herself, Lancet managed to resuscitate Elsie, the mare latching onto the wall, muttering about her head spinning. 

Reph’s door was pried open from inside with a shower of splinters, the stallion having had to force his way through. As soon as he did, he scooted back again and hollered after seeing Yoko’s corpse. I only heard – didn’t see – his cries to a lord upon which he begged for mercy. 

“Greyscale!” 

Someone was shaking me, their eyes overflowing with tears. I hadn’t even realized that Copper had arrived on the scene.

“We can’t just stand here,” she said. “Look, we need to find out who did this, remember?” 

I gritted my teeth and clenched my eyes shut. With a stomach full of lead and a mind that was spinning out of control, I took several deep breaths, the stench of exposed guts permeating my nasal passages. Someone here had killed Yoko. Someone here might just kill us all if we let them. I knew what I had to do. 

“I won’t be beaten,” I muttered under my breath, catching a glimpse of Mesmer’s cold, calculating gaze from the other side of the corridor. I wasn’t about to fail in finding my best friend’s killer. I had to face the horror of his demise if hope was to survive. “Don’t worry, buddy. I’m gonna do you proud.”


== Investigation Start! ==


“Well, howdy!” Monobunny said cheerfully, bounding onto the scene. “Quite the mess we have here! Now who could possibly be responsible for this harrowing murder?”

“Quit taunting us!” Lancet cried, shivering anxiously. 

“Oh? But I’m here to provide you all with important information!” Monobunny held up a slip of paper. “It’s the next Monobunny File! Now, who wants to open it?”

Mesmer levitated the paper from Monobunny’s grasp and held it up, reading aloud. “Yoko died at approximately thirteen past six this morning from a knife wound to the neck.” His eyes narrowed. “That was only three minutes ago.”


Truth Bullet added: Monobunny File #2



Yoko died at approximately 06:13 this morning from a knife wound to the neck.


I stared at what remained of Yoko’s body, the stallion’s eyes closed forever. It was hard to believe that he was alive and well when I’d woken up this morning, and was now just a pile of meat and bone. Lancet took up the task of inspecting his body, lifting up the various pieces to check for further evidence. “It’s near unbelievable," she muttered, shaking her head. "His body has taken so much damage, and yet it was the knife that killed him.”


Truth Bullet added: State of The Body



Yoko was found with his flanks, abdomen and hind legs shredded, huge chunks of flesh torn away, with what appears to be pieces of shrapnel embedded inside. He had a combat knife buried into his neck. He suffered three wounds from knife attacks aimed squarely at his jugular. His left foreleg has been completely removed at the shoulder joint with a clean cut. 


I held back an urge to retch. The mere idea that someone or something was capable of such an attack on a titan like Yoko seemed impossible. I’d considered him invincible, untouchable. I walked past his body, then stopped for a moment. The carpet was stained thickly with blood from the rec room to where Yoko now lay. Peering inside, there was yet more blood in the doorway.


Truth Bullet added: Trail of Blood



A trail of blood extends from the doorway of the rec room to Yoko’s body.


“Greyscale?”

I looked up to see Mesmer, his lips tensed and his posture wavering. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay? Can you investigate by yourself, or do you need any help?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said.

“Good.” Mesmer let out a deep breath. He paused, looking as if he had much more to say. Instead, he stepped aside, allowing me into the rec room where Dopple and Inky were currently searching, having to tread through Yoko’s blood in order to do so. At that point I stepped on something sharp and immediately recoiled.

“Watch yourself,” Dopple said. “They’re all over the room.”

It was at that point I realized the devastation that lay before me. The rec room had been trashed, the two sofas were ripped to shreds, the table had collapsed, and shards of metal and glass peppered the walls and floor. I stepped carefully, but few spots remained untouched. I was going to have to bear the pain in my hooves no matter what.

“What even are they?” Inky asked, managing to pry something from the wall with her teeth. She spat it into her hoof to reveal what appeared to be a long metal screw, all bent out of shape. Looking further, there were other similar items such as nails and razor blades strewn across the floor. “They’re all over the place,” Inky remarked, peeking behind one of the sofas. “Even here! How are there so many of them?”


Truth Bullet added: Pieces of Metal and Glass



Pieces of metal are strewn about the room, embedded into the floor, walls, and furniture. Some appear to be parts of razor blades, screws and nails. There is also a small amount of glass scattered in the same manner.


With another few careful steps I was stood at the center of the room, my hooves having nicked at some of the sharp pieces. I looked down at what remained of the table, which was now a mess of splinters. Peering closer, something odd jumped out at me. Amongst the wreckage there were a few streaks of a peculiar white substance. With a delicate press of my hoof some of the substance was wiped off, allowing me to inspect it closer. It wasn’t liquid, like I’d expected, but a fine powder. I sniffed at it, but its odor wasn’t familiar. 


Truth Bullet added: White Powder



Traces of white powder can be found on the rec room table. 


“That was reckless,” Dopple said from behind me. “That could’ve been poisonous for all you knew.” She motioned towards the fireplace. “Notice anything?”

The fire was burning well, its logs and small amount of tinder stacked in an orderly fashion amongst the surrounding chaos. Thinking back, I realized it was the first time I’d seen it lit. “Yeah, who started the fire?”

“Not that,” Dopple said, pointing again. Only then did I realize what she meant. A small piece of rope was poking out from the fire, still burning on one side. Upon closer inspection, there were yet more pieces of rope in the fire itself, but had almost completely burned up and were barely recognizable from their original state. It was impossible to tell if it was actually several smaller pieces or one long coil, and the evidence was burning up in front of us before we could have a chance at finding out.


Truth Bullet added: Piece of Rope



A small piece of rope was found burning in the rec room fireplace. There are the remains of more rope that has since burned up. 


“I’m pretty sure that’s the rope found in the MonoMart,” Dopple mused. She frowned and shook her head. “Just like the knife. We’ll have to check the MonoMart as soon as our search is done here, but I’m afraid of what we might find.”

The bronze-coated metal guard that usually stood in front of the fireplace was instead on the floor, looking as if it had fallen forwards, away from the fire. At first, I didn’t think anything of it, just another victim of whatever destruction had occurred. And yet, something about it didn’t make sense. The guard itself was mostly solid with a few air-holes lining the top and bottom, and a few other holes peppered across the front. I lifted it up, finding it to be surprisingly heavy.

“Is there a unicorn around?” I called towards the doorway, my gaze landing on Sanscript, who was peering inside, not seeming to want to take another step forward.

“Oh, yes?” the stallion replied, looking flustered. 

“Could you lift this in place over the fire for me? I want to check something.”

Sanscript did as he was asked, the guard sliding neatly into a groove in the stone base. It fit perfectly, shielding the fire almost in its entirety. It was then that I noticed some clips on either side that hooked up to metal rings embedded in the stonework. Something to stop it from getting knocked over…


Truth Bullet added: Fireplace Guard



The guard for the fireplace was found tipped over in front of the fire, as if it had fallen forward. There are clips on either side allowing it to be hooked onto metal rings and held in place.


“Do be careful, Miss Slinger!” Sanscript called. “You’ve already sustained an injury! I can see blood coming from your hoof!”

“I’ve had worse,” Inky said nonchalantly, still snooping around. 

“B-b-but even still, you should seek medical attention!”

“That can wait until after the trial,” Inky said without looking up, her nose to the ground.

“Right. Well then.” Sanscript exhaled sharply through his nose. “Well, if nobody needs me…”

“Actually,” Dopple said, cutting him off. “We’ll need your help in a moment, if you’re up for it. There’s something we need to check in the MonoMart.”

“Oh, absolutely!” Sanscript exclaimed, appearing relieved. “I’d rather not spend another moment staring at this atrocity.” 

I took stock of the room one more time to pick out any more details. The window at the far end was closed, its handle in the locked position. Much like everything else in the room, it was peppered with holes, tiny pieces of glass missing from its pane, though it hadn’t shattered. A hypothesis sprung itself on me, but I quickly dismissed it. The window itself was incredibly narrow. While it was around five feet in width, its height was around half a foot, if that. Not even Button could climb through that, I thought, chastising myself for even considering such a thing. I need to be a better detective. I can’t fail now!


Truth Bullet added: Broken Window



The rec room window was closed upon discovery, with a few small holes. It is extremely narrow, with around half a foot of clearance. Nowhere near enough room for a pony to fit through. 


I left the room, glancing to my right to see Button huddled up in the far corner near his room. His eyes were pointed at the ground, focused on a nonexistent object. Instead of being at his side, Maribelle was squeamishly taking stock of the situation and talking with Reph, who had his back to Yoko’s body. I slunk past, once again trying to think of the mess as just a sack of meat and fluid, not the remains of my best friend. That’s what it had to be for now. 

As I did so, my gaze drifted over to Reph’s room, the door swung back. It had a large dent, and the right side of it was chipped and splintered. What was most noteworthy, however, was the magnetic lock, which was completely busted, almost smashed into pieces. Internal wires were exposed, letting off a few small sparks. It looked as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it.


Truth Bullet added: Broken Lock



The magnetic lock on Reph’s door is completely broken, presumably from being struck with great force. 


“Reph,” I said, calling out. 

“Ah!” The stallion flinched at hearing his name and turned around. He quickly turned back, however, when his eyes caught a glimpse of the body. “W-what do you want!? I d-didn’t do anything, okay?”

“I never said you did,” I replied, wandering into his field of view.

“Sorry,” said Maribelle, who was rubbing Reph’s back tenderly. “Someone, whose name I will refrain from mentioning, has already accused him of murder. It was extremely rude.”

That explains why Button and Maribelle aren’t together, I said inwardly. “Well, I’m not here to accuse. I just want to ask Reph what happened. The victim was right outside his door, so maybe he has a clue that’ll help us in the trial.”

Reph sighed deeply. “A-alright. I understand. You see, I was woken up this morning by a terrible noise. It was so loud it must have shaken my walls! I pressed an ear up to my door, and then there were hoof-steps g-getting closer by the second! Then something started h-hitting at my door. It was shaking violently! I thought the h-hinges were going to come off! But like an idiot I was frozen in fear, just standing there, w-waiting for my end to come!”

“And then?”

“Then it got quiet all of a sudden. I didn’t dare move, just listened. I heard something else, like quieter thuds, b-but not against my door. Th-then there was a scream, then the body discovery announcement, and I step outside to see all this b-blood! That’s all I know, honest!”

“Just to make sure,” I said, “while all this noise was going on, did you see what was going on outside through the peephole?”

Reph shook his head. “No, sorry. In hindsight that should’ve been the first thing I did, b-but when my door started getting pummeled I was too scared to look! I had no idea what was happening.”

“One more question. When you heard the hoof-steps outside your room, can you remember if it sounded like one set of hoof-steps, or several?”

Reph closed his eyes and thought for a moment. “No, now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure it w-was only one. The steps were rather slow, so I don’t think it could have been two. I was listening r-really carefully, you know, and my d-door had a hole knocked into it by that point. If something else was g-going on in the hallway, I would’ve heard it.”


Truth Bullet added: Reph’s Account



Reph was awoken by a loud noise, then heard the hoof-steps of one pony outside in the hallway. His door was pounded on several times before there was silence. Shortly thereafter, there was the body discovery announcement.


“Was that any help?” Reph asked.

“Of course,” I answered. His testimony did a great deal in explaining some of my own experiences, which I was sure would prove vital during the trial. 

“I hope so,” Reph said, biting his lip. “W-we’ll all be executed if we get this wrong, won’t we?”

“It’s a curse, isn’t it?” Maribelle said solemnly, staring into space. “We live in fear of what may come, but it’s the ones who are left behind that truly suffer. Sometimes, I think to myself, would it be better if we were all put out of our misery? We wouldn’t have to worry about dying in the most horrific and painful ways. What if we could all just drift away? Nobody would be left to mourn or fear execution.”

“Maribelle!” Reph exclaimed. “Y-you shouldn’t be thinking like that!”

“Of course,” Maribelle continued, as if she hadn’t heard him, “we might get lucky like Pinkie Pie, who passed in the blink of an eye. But what about Shetland? He was wracked with guilt, questioning everything he ever believed in, and we all saw the horrors he was put through. And look at Yoko, his body ravaged. I don’t think anyone wants to go like that.”

I said nothing, leaving Maribelle to her own musings. Dopple called me over to where she was standing alongside Sanscript, Mesmer, Elsie and Lancet. “They’re coming too?” I asked.

“Yes,” Dopple said, nodding. “We don’t know how much time we have left to investigate, so having all four unicorns will make this much easier.”

“Anything,” Elsie mumbled between retches, “to get out of this hallway. Oh goodness, the smell!”

The five of us trotted downstairs and into the entrance lobby. “What is that!?” Sanscript said aloud as we approached the door leading outside. 

On a large sheet of paper stuck in the middle of the door were the words ‘GO NO FURTHER OR FACE EXECUTION! THIS IS THE ORDER OF MONOBUNNY!’ A picture of Monobunny had been drawn on the same sheet, a stream of ‘HA HA HA’ cascading from his mouth. 

“Can we not go outside?” Lancet asked. “This isn’t fair! How are we supposed to continue the investigation?”

“Wait,” Dopple said. “We need to check with Monobunny himself.” She reached over to the wooden counter and paused. “The service bell isn’t here. Where can it have gone?”

A door opened behind us. “Pardon me! It looks like someone wants to get my attention!” 

“We need to know,” Mesmer began, “whether we’re allowed outside. Is that sign one of yours?”

“Oh, that thing?” Monobunny bounded past us and tore down the sheet. He scrunched it up into a ball and tossed it aside. “I hereby declare you may leave the hotel! Access to the MonoMonoMart has also been granted despite it being before the official opening time.”

“Wait,” Mesmer said. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I know,” Monobunny said with a shrug. “I pledge everyone my honesty, not my knowledge. Well, looks like you can continue the investigation!” With that said, he ran out. 

“Whatever,” Mesmer muttered. “At least we can get to the MonoMart.”


Truth Bullet added: Threatening Sign



A sign was found on the inside of the hotel entrance doors during the investigation, threatening anyone who tries to leave with execution. Supposedly, this was a rule put in place by Monobunny, who then tore it down when we needed to leave.


We stepped outside to a most peculiar sight – a number of crowbars littered the ground, arranged haphazardly. After picking them all up we counted seven in total and began to inspect them. 

“Look here,” Mesmer said, holding one up to the rest of us. “Small fibers are stuck to the end. Is it the same for all of them?”

I checked the one I had been looking at and found the same. Brown fibers were stuck to various parts of the crowbar along with a whitish residue. Looks like dried glue…

“I don’t get it,” Elsie said. “Why would these even be out here?”


Truth Bullet added: Crowbars



A total of seven crowbars were found outside the hotel, strewn about in random places. They all have traces of brown fibers and a dried white substance, possibly glue.


“This might not be everything,” Mesmer said. “There are some out here, but for all we know there could be some on the roof. Dopple, if you would.”

Dopple nodded and took to the air, flying just out of sight over the top of the building. Within a few moments she returned, holding a small, shiny object. 

“Is that…?” Lancet muttered. “The service bell?”

“Yeah,” Dopple said, holding it out on one hoof. “I didn’t see anything else.”

“So,” Mesmer mused, rubbing his chin. “These crowbars are on the ground, but the bell was on the roof? That certainly limits who among us who could have put it there.”

The case was becoming more complex than I had expected. If the killer was capable of putting everything on the roof, why only take the service bell? Why leave the crowbars out in the open? Or maybe…


Truth Bullet added: Service Bell



The brass service bell used to summon Monobunny, normally found in the lobby, was discovered by Dopple on the roof during the investigation.


“This doesn’t make sense,” Lancet said as we piled the evidence on one of the picnic benches. “Seven crowbars? From what I remember we don’t even have anywhere near than many in the MonoMart. Where could they have come from?”

“That’s what we need to check,” Dopple said. “But I fear I already know the answer.”

Upon reaching the aisle stacked with tools the four unicorns worked quickly to bring each item down and line them up as per our usual checks. Going through slowly and methodically, we counted against the numbers painted on the floor.



8 kitchen knives

7 combat knives

4 pairs of shears

5 lump hammers

3 sledgehammers

5 claw hammers

3 crowbars

6 wooden bats

4 wooden mallets

6 meat cleavers

8 wrenches 

4 hacksaws

10 large screwdrivers

4 coils of rope



“It all matches up,” Dopple said sullenly. 

“But how?” Sanscript asked. “We have several crowbars outside which are unaccounted for, not to mention the combat knife that was used in the murder itself. We’ve been diligent enough to make sure nothing was taken, so how is this possible?”

“Who wrote the numbers?” Mesmer asked.

“I did,” Elsie said quietly. She tutted in annoyance. “And I know what you’re going to say, but I have witnesses who can vouch for me! Greyscale, Sanscript and the Doctor can all confirm that I wrote the correct amounts for each item upon our initial inspection.”

“She’s right,” Lancet said. “Also, I’m pretty certain these numbers are the same as when we performed our initial stock check. But still, this doesn’t make any sense. We’ve been checking constantly ever since the first trial. How can we suddenly have more things than we started with?”


Truth Bullet added: MonoMart Stock Check



Not including other items found during the investigation, the stock levels of tools and weapons remain exactly the same as the initial tally, and all subsequent checks yielded the same result.


Now I was truly puzzled. Each piece of evidence I’d found had only added mystery upon mystery, with no clear answer to how they all fit together. There was nowhere else to go, nothing else to do but simply think, and that was getting me nowhere. Even with the smallest of connections between information it didn’t come close to pointing to a specific culprit. I sat in dismay for a minute or so, until I noticed Mesmer doing something strange out of the corner of my eye. He was levitating one of the coils of rope and intensely rubbing something else against it.

“Looks like I was right,” he said, looking over to me. 

“About what?”

“I was just considering if it were possible to perform certain acts of murder using razor blades. They’re somewhat sharp, but not incredibly so, and they’re too finicky to apply a great deal of force with without losing your grip, even through magic.” He held up a razor blade along with the rope, only a small notch embedded in its side. “The cords for our keycards are thin and flimsy in comparison, so of course it’d be easy enough to cut through those, but nowhere near enough to slice and dice flesh with ease.”

I instinctively reached for my neck, a certain memory resurfacing.

“Sorry,” Mesmer said. “I didn’t mean to, well… revolt you by saying that. I know you and Yoko were close.” He dropped the items and came over to me. For a brief moment his right hoof twitched, as if he were deliberating on lifting it. Then it settled and he cleared his throat. “As much as we may have argued, I had nothing but respect for him. He made some good points about me, and despite how it may have looked to you, I think the two of us would have gotten along sooner rather than later. It’s a real shame it’s come to this.”

“Yeah,” I said. 

“Even so, we must go forward. Yoko wouldn’t want us to face execution. And so, I must ask.” Mesmer moved in closer. “Have you figured out who the killer is?”

“No,” I said forlornly. “I have no idea.”

“That’s alright,” Mesmer replied. “I’m not sure yet either.”


*DING DONG DONG DING*


The familiar sound of bells rang out as it had once before, followed by Monobunny’s diabolical demands.

“Your time is up! The investigation is now over. Please make your way out into the courtyard and through the entrance to the courthouse for the next murder trial! Don’t dilly-dally or I’ll have to punish you! See you there!”

“Here we go,” Mesmer said. “There’s no option now but to uncover the truth any way we can. Are you ready?”

“I don’t know,” I said quietly as everyone began to gather outside the MonoMart. “I hope so.”

“Well if it makes you feel any better,” Mesmer whispered, “I won’t go easy on you if you make any ridiculous claims. I will bite back just as hard, if not harder than in the first trial.”

I chuckled. “Good. I wouldn’t expect anything less.” 

The time was near. Just as before, a portion of the dome’s wall had been lowered into the ground, revealing a cave, within which stood a set of double doors bearing Monobunny’s image. We waited a short while as the others left the hotel, a mixture of fear, anxiety, sadness and anger etched on each of their faces. I mistakenly expected Yoko to appear behind them, and was on the cusp of asking where he was, when I understood once more. 

“We’d better come out of this alive,” Dish Panner said gruffly, deliberately distancing herself from the rest of us.

“Would that even be a blessing?” Maribelle muttered somberly.

The atmosphere was different this time. When Pinkie died, some were still holding onto the idea that Monobunny was the killer. But now we knew, we all knew, that one of us had committed murder. I scanned the crowd before me and sighed. I didn’t want anyone here to be the killer. I didn’t want to lose another one, but there was no choice. Whomever it was had to die. That was the rule.

The doors were opened and once again, we shuffled down the pitch-black staircase, guided by the floor-level lights. Nobody spoke. The doors creaked behind us and slammed shut, sealing our fate. Behind the door at the bottom of the stairs was the same opera house filled to the brim with cameras that jittered excitedly. There were cheers, whoops, hollers and applause as we approached the center stage. Monobunny sat atop his golden stool suspended high above us, spinning his gavel as if he were a cheerleader.

“Well, well, well! Is someone having a case of déjà vu? I could’ve sworn you were all here just a few days ago! Come on now, take your place, and let’s get started!”

“Bastard,” I heard someone say under their breath. 

We all did as we were told, standing on our individual spots and watching as the blue pillars of light enveloped us. Then came the sound of gears grinding, and each of our signs whizzed behind us. Yoko’s picture had been greyed out with a red ‘X’ splashed across it, matching Pinkie’s and Shetland’s. In addition, the sign previously depicting a question mark had been replaced with a picture of a stallion wearing shades, presumably Cube Rick. It too had been given the mark of death. Four down, twelve to go. 

“Silence!” Monobunny blared, the cheering audience quieting to a mere whisper. “So, a second trial, eh? The first one was quite eventful, wasn’t it? Let’s see if we can top that, shall we!?”

My heart thumped inside my chest. I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. Adrenaline filled my veins. This was it, the same rush I had felt once before. A murder to solve. My life on the line. Failure was not an option. 

Monobunny slammed the gavel down and reached for the skies. “Let the trial commence!”
> Investigation Two - Truth Bullets
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

· Monobunny File #2: Yoko died at approximately 06:13 this morning from a knife wound to the neck.

· State of The Body: Yoko was found with his flanks, abdomen and hind legs shredded, huge chunks of flesh torn away, with what appears to be pieces of shrapnel embedded inside. He had a combat knife buried into his neck. He suffered three wounds from knife attacks aimed squarely at his jugular. His left foreleg has been completely removed at the shoulder joint with a clean cut. 

· Trail of Blood: A trail of blood extends from the doorway of the rec room to Yoko’s body.

· Pieces of Metal and Glass: Pieces of metal are strewn about the room, embedded into the floor, walls, and furniture. Some appear to be parts of razor blades, screws and nails. There is also a small amount of glass scattered in the same manner.

· White Powder: Traces of white powder can be found on the rec room table. 

· Piece of Rope: A small piece of rope was found burning in the rec room fireplace. There are the remains of more rope that has since burned up. 

· Fireplace Guard: The guard for the fireplace was found tipped over in front of the fire, as if it had fallen forward. There are clips on either side allowing it to be hooked onto metal rings and held in place.

· Broken Window: The rec room window was closed upon discovery, with a few small holes. It is extremely narrow, with around half a foot of clearance. Nowhere near enough room for a pony to fit through.

· Broken Lock: The magnetic lock on Reph’s door is completely broken, presumably from being struck with great force. 

· Reph’s Account: Reph was awoken by a loud noise, then heard the hoof-steps of one pony approach his door. His door was pounded on several times before there was silence. Shortly thereafter, there was the body discovery announcement.

· Threatening Sign: A sign was found on the inside of the hotel entrance doors during the investigation, threatening anyone who tries to leave with execution. Supposedly, this was a rule put in place by Monobunny, who then tore it down when we needed to leave.

· Crowbars: A total of seven crowbars were found outside the hotel, strewn about in random places. They all have traces of brown fibers and a dried white substance, possibly glue.

· Service Bell: The brass service bell used to summon Monobunny, normally found in the lobby, was discovered by Dopple on the roof during the investigation.

· MonoMart Stock Check: Not including other items found during the investigation, the stock levels of tools and weapons remain exactly the same as the initial tally, and all subsequent checks yielded the same result.

Hotel floor maps:


Hotel Floor 1

Hotel Floor 2

Hotel Floor 3

> Trial Two - Part 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Now then, let’s begin with a simple explanation of the killing game trial! During the trial you will present your arguments for who the killer is and vote for ‘whodunit.’ If you vote correctly then only the guilty will receive punishment and the game will continue. But if you vote incorrectly… Then I’ll execute everyone besides the killer, and they will earn the right to–”

“Oh, shut up!” Elsie interrupted. “We all know the score and don’t need you rubbing it in our faces!”

“Touchy, touchy!” Monobunny retorted. “It’s a tradition to reel off the rules before each trial, but I suppose I can make an exception this time.”

There it is again, I thought. If it’s a tradition, that means there were more killing games besides this one. How many can there have been?

“Hello, everyone?” Lancet spoke up. She pawed meekly at the ground. “I really don’t want to believe that one of us is to blame for this. After we spent so much effort trying to keep everyone safe, can this really have happened by our own hooves? Is there not a chance that Monobunny is the culprit?”

“I understand your concern,” Mesmer said, “but Pinkie’s death also seemed impossible at first. No matter how farfetched it may seem, I do not doubt that one of us is the killer.”

“The question is,” Dish Panner said, “how did Yoko die? He was a big guy, literally a mountain of muscle, a fighter and an athlete, but somehow he was beaten into a pulp. Who could even be capable of something like that?”

“Everyone,” I said aloud, everyone’s heads turning towards me. I took another breath. “He may have been a champion sumo wrestler, but nobody is invincible. Not a single equine in the world could survive their neck being sliced open.”

“Exactly,” Mesmer said, flashing me an approving smile. “We can’t restrict our judgement based on who we think could overpower him.”

“Oh, ho!” Monobunny gasped melodramatically. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the murder trial, but Greyscale just said something that’s completely untrue!”

“What?” I said, stunned. I relayed what I’d said over again in my mind. “What did I say that was false?”

“One of you knows for certain what it was,” Monobunny said, rubbing his paws together. “But it’s not important right now. You all have a trial to solve! Will the killer be found out or will they get away scot-free? I don’t know! Don’t ask me!”

“Let’s forget that for now,” Dopple said, stopping me before I could retort. “First, we need to consider how Yoko died.”

“Yes,” Sanscript said, shivering. “Yoko’s death is most peculiar, especially considering a particular wound that I simply can’t wrap my brain around.”

Lancet nodded. “His left foreleg was amputated with surgical precision. Simply uncanny…”

“If that’s true,” Elsie said, “wouldn’t that make you the most suspicious one among us?”

“I may be a talented surgeon,” Lancet replied without hesitation, “but even I would struggle to perform such a perfect cut, even if I had all of the required tools. The knife we found on the body wouldn’t even come close to being adequate. His muscle mass alone would cause ample issues, not to mention cutting through bone.”

“That’s something I wondered,” Maribelle said wearily. “I didn’t spend too much time looking at the body, but could this amputation have been made simply between the joints, through cartilage? If that’s the case, you wouldn’t need to touch his bones.”

“I can vouch for the Doctor,” Copper said. “I saw the end of his loose leg. Bone was definitely sliced.”

“I’m sure we can figure it out,” Dopple said. “It might even give us another clue as to what happened.”

Just as before, the stage slowly began to spin, a dazzle of lights illuminating the stage, signifying the trial’s first debate. A leg sliced clean off, I mused. It was seemingly impossible. But I wasn’t about to let it stump me!




Truth Bullets



Crowbars



Pieces of Metal and Glass



Broken Lock



State of The Body



MonoMart Stock Check



 


Lancet: Yoko’s leg was sliced clean off. Whatever did it cut right through the bone.

Inky: I’m no expert, but couldn’t that have been done with a saw? 

Dish Panner: I’m pretty sure there were saws in the MonoMart, so it’s possible.

Maribelle: Are we sure it couldn’t have been chopped off with the knife? After all, it was found on his body. 

Copper: It’d take a great deal of force to do something like that. I don’t think even Yoko himself would’ve been capable.

Sanscript: Perhaps it was down to the killer’s secret method? It’s possible it was more than the use of a simple tool, but a much cleverer method that we might be unaware of. 

Inky: Like, some kind of trap?

Button: Oh, maybe it was self-inflicted! 

Elsie: What!? Why would Yoko cut off his own leg!?

Button: The killer could have hoof-cuffed him onto something, so he escaped the only way he knew how! But then he was killed anyway, so it was kinda wasted effort.

Elsie: That’s a preposterous idea. Personally, I think his amputated leg is linked to his other injuries. It could very well have been caused by the same thing. 

Copper: Whatever it was, he must’ve been in tremendous pain. I can’t even imagine.

Dish Panner: His leg can’t have just fallen off! What in the world happened to him?

Mesmer: Oh, it’s quite the mystery. Right, Greyscale?

The injury seems utterly implausible, but that’s the biggest clue of all! Given what I’ve already learned, it makes complete sense. I just need to convince the others!
> Trial Two - Part 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“I AGREE WITH THAT!”



Broken Lock <> self-inflicted



< Argument Break >




 


“Button might be on to something. I don’t think it was the killer at all. Rather, Yoko caused the injury himself.”

“What!?” Elsie exclaimed. “How in the world…?”

“So I’m right!?” Button cried gleefully. “Yay, I’m right! Wait a minute.” He looked around confusedly. “How am I right?”

“I’m not saying Yoko cut off his own leg,” I continued, “and definitely not with a blade of any kind. Remember near the end of the first trial, when Shetland told us about Cube Rick?”

“I try not to,” Lancet said, shuddering. “But yes, I do remember. He fought back against Monobunny and ended up being decapitated. Shetland said Monobunny shot a laser beam from his eyes, if that’s to be believed. Not that Shetland had any reason to lie at that point.”

“Don’t forget,” I added, “that Monobunny has been very specific about the punishment for violating certain rules, whether it’s entering restricted areas out of hours, performing complex spells, or breaking pieces of equipment.”

“That’s right,” Copper said, frowning. “You’ll have one of your limbs sliced clean off.”

I nodded. “Exactly. Since Monobunny is the only one capable of causing such an injury, it must mean that Yoko himself was the cause, breaking the lock on Reph’s door and suffering the punishment. Isn’t that right, Monobunny?”

“Ding, ding! Correct!”

“That does make sense,” Reph said. “The banging I heard on my door this morning must have been Yoko.” He shook his head violently, clamping onto his forehead with one hoof. “If only I’d opened it, maybe I could’ve saved him!”

“Wait,” Dish Panner said. “If Yoko was the one who battered down Reph’s door, the question is, why? What would he have to gain from that?”

“If I may,” Maribelle interjected. “I do not believe he lost his leg intentionally. Rather, he was in a state of panic. If he was being attacked by the killer at the time, he may have been trying to get help any way he could, but in doing so was met with his end.”

“There is another possibility,” Copper said forebodingly. “What if Reph was the one who attacked Yoko, then he ran once Yoko turned on him? Then Yoko tried breaking down his door to get revenge.”

“That’s not true!” Reph cried. “I already said, the first I saw of Yoko was when my door was pried open after the body discovery announcement!”

“I say we accept his testimony,” Mesmer said.

Reph sighed thankfully. “I’m glad someone here believes in me.”

“For now, at least,” Mesmer finished. “That is, unless new insight gives us reason to disbelieve you.”

Reph’s smile faded and he sank into the floor. “I should’ve thought as much.”

“In that case,” Elsie said, “we can assume that Monobunny’s attack occurred before the killer struck. But still, Yoko suffered a number of rather confounding injuries. His body was…” Elsie trailed off, holding a hoof to her mouth as if to stifle a vomit. “Anyway. The question is, was Monobunny’s attack the first he received?”

“That's what we need to confirm,” Sanscript said. “That way we can build up a picture of the series of events and how they played out.”




Truth Bullets



Crowbars



Trail of Blood



Broken Window



Monobunny File #2



State of The Body




 


Elsie: Yoko battered on Reph’s door leading to the loss of his leg. Did the killer spring on him before, or after?

Maribelle: It must have been before. Yoko was being attacked and tried to get help.

Reph: I thought I was the one under attack!

Dish Panner: But why get help from Reph? The guy’s a bag of nerves.

Inky: Yoko’s a big guy. If someone attacked him, he’d fight ‘em off! The killer must have a bruise from where he lamped ‘em!

Copper: Or the killer could’ve failed the first attack and ducked into their room. 

Reph: I already told you, I didn’t kill him!

Lancet: If Yoko lost his leg before the killer’s attack, he might not have been able to fight back.

Dish Panner: He would’ve been a sitting duck. He must’ve been stuck there in the corridor when the killer launched their attack. 

Maribelle: But all that with a knife? I should think then, that the killer was a unicorn. Only they could have sliced him up that badly. 

Elsie: Rather presumptuous of you to cast the blame on our race!

Mesmer: We should figure out the chain of events before we start pointing hooves like morons.

The chain of events… There’s a clue that points to something important, something that might unravel what happened to Yoko before his death. We must get to the bottom of this!
> Trial Two - Part 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“NO, THAT’S WRONG!”



Trail of Blood <> in the corridor



< Argument Break >



 


“Yoko couldn’t have been in the corridor when he was sprung upon. That may have been where he ended up, but the attack must have begun in the rec room.”

“Wait, really?” Reph remarked. 

“There was a very prominent trail of blood leading from the doorway of the rec room to the spot just outside Reph’s door. Since levitation isn’t permitted for use on the living, we can cross off the idea that a unicorn simply carried him in an injured state, leaving the trail of blood behind. Rather, Yoko was forced to flee the rec room after his initial attack, and took to battering down Reph’s door, losing his leg in the process.”

“I see,” Reph replied, looking pensively at the floor. “I didn’t really stick around to see what else was around the body. B-but this at least proves my innocence, doesn’t it? Yoko was attacked and came to me for help!”

“Possibly,” I said, catching a glimpse of Mesmer’s gaze. “It fits the scenario so far, but we can’t say for certain just yet.”

Reph sighed unhappily. “Fine. Carry on.”

“What are you so bitter about?” Dish Panner asked. “You should be worried about finding the culprit, not whether you’re under suspicion.”

“Just leave him,” Copper said. “We’re getting off topic. If Yoko was first attacked in the rec room, the question is, how? And what injuries did he sustain? We’ve crossed off the severed leg, but there’s so much else.”

“No, no, no,” Button muttered aloud, shaking his head. “I don’t buy this at all. Yoko wasn’t just injured, he was pulverized! Ain’t nothin’ could do something like that other than the machine gun cameras on the third floor!”

“Double negatives aside,” Sanscript began, “I think that to be a wild assumption. If Yoko was injured by the machine guns as you say, we would’ve seen the signs. There was no blood leading from his body to the upper floor, as we all saw.”

“But what else could do it!?” Button cried. “You’re gonna tell me it was done with the knife? I don’t think so!”

“I agree,” Lancet said. “It seems nonsensical to me that the killer would focus their efforts on his hind when they ended up finishing him off with a few swift stabs to the throat.”

“More importantly,” Dopple said, “we need to think about the state of the rec room and how it relates to Yoko.”

“Yeah, that room was messed up!” Inky exclaimed. “All covered in screws and nails and stuff in the walls, the sofas torn to shreds, the table nothing but a pile of splinters. My first thought was, Elsie’s been redecorating!”

“How rude!” Elsie chided. “I’ll have you know I am completely insurmountable in my field!” She looked around for a moment before softening her voice. “A-and of course, your joke is rather insensitive considering Yoko’s tragic passing and the nature of this trial.” She coughed meekly.

“Insurmountable?” Inky parroted, tilting her head. “Doesn’t that mean something that can’t be mounted? Can’t say I’m surprised, but it sure explains a lot about your attitude.”

“Shut it!” Mesmer bellowed before Elsie could get the next word in, her jaw clenched. “This is pathetic!” He took a deep breath and continued more quietly. “Now, the rec room. That should be our next point of interest.”

“I didn’t step inside,” Sanscript said, “but I did see the devastation.”

“As did I,” Lancet said in agreement. “What’s most peculiar is that, when looking at the shrapnel embedded in the walls, they are remarkably similar to those found embedded in Yoko’s torso. There’s no doubt that this was the cause of his most horrific injuries.”

“That much was obvious from the beginning,” Dish Panner muttered. “We can pretty much tell what happened, so we should move on to something else.”

“No,” Dopple said, shaking her head. “We can’t pass over any facet of this murder or we risk missing out on a vital detail. What might seem obvious at first may in fact hold a deeper truth.”

“Right,” I agreed. I could feel certain answers fluttering within reach, yet the secret behind the overarching mystery eluded me. Each piece had to fit, no stone left unturned. The stage spun once again.




Truth Bullets



White Powder



Broken Window



Pieces of Metal and Glass



Piece of Rope



Service Bell



 


Dopple: Yoko was attacked while in the rec room. The question is, how did the killer go about it?

Lancet: Given the damage it could have been a prolonged attack.

Copper: But would Yoko really have taken such a beating?

Inky: I think it was one quick attack that took him by surprise! 

Mesmer: We can probably assume the shrapnel embedded in Yoko’s torso is the same as that which is scattered around the rec room.

Sanscript: Could the killer have struck him with a container of nails and screws? 

Elsie: He would’ve needed to be struck hard to tear him apart like that.

Maribelle: A unicorn could have taken control of the shards easily. Nobody else could have done so.

Elsie: What is with you and your racism against unicorns!?

Button: I know! The killer could’ve made an explosive!

Sanscript: But could such a thing have been constructed? I don’t think the MonoMart supplies any kinds of explosives.

Inky: I don’t know. Maybe the metal in the walls and stuff was put there to throw us off the scent? What if it was just there for show and the killer attacked Yoko some other way?

Copper: That’s surely a lot of effort just for a red herring.

Dish Panner: Like I said, the answer is obvious. 

I need to think about this carefully. What makes the most sense considering the evidence? How did this murder take place? I need to figure it out!
> Trial Two - Part 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“I AGREE WITH THAT!”



White Powder <> made an explosive



< Argument Break >



 


“As fantastical as it sounds, I actually think Button is right. From the evidence we have, Yoko must have been hit with a blast from an explosive.”

“I’m right again!?” Button was beaming. He pumped a hoof elatedly and muttered something to himself. “I knew I had this detective thing in the bag!”

“Now wait a second!” Sanscript broke in with. “Do you seriously mean to say the killer used explosives!?” Sanscript shook his head. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Dish Panner remarked. “From the way the room looked, that was my first guess.”

“It does make sense,” Copper cut in with. “It was a loud bang that woke me up, and Reph reported the same thing.”

“But still!” Sanscript fumed. “How is that even possible!? We don’t have gunpowder or plastic explosives of any kind, at least not that I’ve seen. What could’ve possibly been the cause?”

“Traces of a white powder,” I said, “were left on the remains of the table. Most of it must have ignited when the explosion occurred, but some must have been left behind.”

“So, what was it?” Inky asked. 

I frowned. “I’m not entirely sure.”

Dish Panner cleared her throat. “It was likely one of two things – flour or milk powder. Both are highly explosive, more so than most creatures believe. If you tossed a bag of flour around in the presence of a pan fire, you could decimate an entire kitchen. Bring pieces of sharp metal into the mix and the force would be like a shotgun blast.”

“Hang on,” Elsie said, rubbing her temple. “Are you saying that if you took a naked flame to a bag of flour, it was just… explode? That seems rather far-fetched.”

“No, that’s not how it works,” Dish Panner replied. “For it to combust, there still needs to be enough available oxygen. Lighting a match on a bag of flour might ignite it a little, but would likely just scorch the surface powder. However, it’s a completely different story if the air is filled with floating powder particles. Holding a lit flame in that scenario would definitely set off an explosion.”

“So that’s it then?” Inky said. “The killer tossed some powder around, turned up the heat and then boom!”

Dish Panner bit her lip. “I don’t think it’s that simple. Were there traces of powder all over the room?”

I shook my head. “Not from what I saw.”

“Me neither,” Inky confirmed. “Why? What does it matter?”

“I think I know,” I said. “If the whole room was filled with powder then we should’ve seen patches of it on the carpet. Even if done with care, throwing powder around would’ve meant some of it falling in messy clumps and clinging to the carpet and fabric of the sofas. Aside from that, there’s the location of the shrapnel to think about. If it was left in a big pile, the explosion would’ve probably knocked them in the same direction, but the pieces were scattered all over.” I exhaled through my nose. What had seemed like an obvious answer required a bit more thought than I had prepared before the trial. But I can figure it out. I just need to think!

“It’s so very tragic,” Maribelle said dejectedly, hanging her head. “We checked for things like knives, but we never thought to check the nails and screws. The killer outwitted us all.”

Sanscript frowned somberly. “It was an elaborate murder, that’s for certain. I feel as if the killer did so in order to confuse us as much as possible.” He paused, looking around the room. “I… feel uncomfortable even considering an accusation. I don’t want to believe that one of you was capable of such a travesty.”

“I was gonna say,” Button began, “little Miss food critic seems pretty suspicious right now. Why do you know so much about explosives when all you’re famous for is whining about roast carrots?”

“Knowledge doesn’t equal guilt,” Dish Panner retorted calmly, running a hoof through her bobbed mane. “Besides, if I were truly guilty, why would I provide useful information?”

“Button,” Maribelle said in a cautionary tone. “I have told you this already. You cannot just accuse someone of murder without good reason.”

“I know!” Button sulked, rolling his eyes. “Just let me solve this thing in my own way, alright?”

“I’ve got it!” I exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear. I turned to Dish Panner. “You said there could only be an explosion if there was flour, milk powder, whatever floating about in the air, right? So there was enough oxygen to allow combustion?”

Dish Panner nodded. “That’s how it works.”

“Then it’s simple!” I continued. “The killer created a nail bomb and used a snow globe effect to trigger the explosion!”

“Snow globe?” Inky said confusedly. “What do you mean by that?”

I chuckled to myself. I couldn’t help but be proud of my revelation. It truly made life worth living! “Like a big glass container. You fill it with flour and shrapnel, shake it up like a snow globe, and that creates an explosive atmosphere within the container. Strike a match inside, force it shut with a stopper of some kind and boom! Provided you got the density of powder just right, it’d explode. That explains the glass as well!”

“But how big a glass container are we talking?” Dish Panner asked. “You surely couldn’t do something like that with a wine bottle, right?”

“I can think of one,” Inky said, beaming. “There’s these great big bottles of cider, like massive urns! I think they can hold a gallon, at least. I hear they’re real popular down south, and for once, that wasn’t a euphemism.”

“Exactly,” I said. “That’s what the killer used. They filled it with all the right ingredients and made their very own nail bomb!”

“Is that really the case?” Mesmer cut in with, his voice like ice. “If there truly was an explosion like you’re describing, it seems surprising that something would be present on the scene. The fire.”

“What about it?”

“It was burning when we investigated the rec room, correct? Do you suppose that was the case when the explosion you speak of was set off?”

“Well yeah,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “I assume that’s where the killer got the flame to set off the explosion in the first place.”

Mesmer sighed heavily. “I warned you, Greyscale. You’re being a bad detective again, making all these little assumptions without actually figuring things out logically. Perhaps you simply lack the relevant knowledge to understand why what you’re proposing is difficult to believe. Not that your reliance on the expertise of Miss Panner leads me to believe otherwise, of course.”

“What have I said wrong now?” I asked in a hushed tone. I had expected Mesmer to remain as he always had, but all the same it was a shock to hear him oppose me on something that seemed so cut and dry. 

“An explosion,” Mesmer began, “would have some kind of effect, wouldn’t it? Given the state of the room we would have to assume it was quite the blast, enough to rip through Yoko’s flesh. Therefore, we can also assume it was enough to disturb the air to a considerable degree. Tell me, what might be the result of this? Have a think.”

I ground my teeth at Mesmer’s condescending tone. “What are you trying to get at?”

“Mesmer, please,” Lancet said. “If you have something to say, tell us. How can we further this trial if you withhold information?”

“What do you think?” Mesmer said, keeping his eyes on me. “Should I just come out and say it?”

“Mesmer!” Copper blasted. “This isn’t a game!”

“Well… technically it is,” Monobunny interjected. “This is a killing game, after all, and Mesmer isn’t breaking any rules.”

“Just shut up!” Copper yelled. “Grey, just ignore him. If he’s not going to actually help us out, the rest of us can solve it ourselves.”

“No.”

Copper furrowed her brow. “What?”

“No,” I repeated. I was seething, that same sensation from the first trial back with a vengeance. I wanted – needed – to prove myself. “I can figure this out. Mesmer obviously thinks we’re missing something, and maybe it’s more important than we give him credit for.” I eyed Mesmer ferociously, sweat dripping down my forehead. “Okay. If we assume there was an explosion, it means something about the crime scene doesn’t make sense, correct?”

“Perhaps,” Mesmer replied, revealing the faintest hint of a smile. “Was there anything that seemed out of place?”

I pondered for a moment, but once again came up blank. If an explosion wasn’t involved, I couldn’t see another possible method. Unless the killer tried to make it look like an explosion to cover something up, but that didn’t seem right either. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I finally said, already anticipating a rebuke. “The rec room was the perfect place to use a nail bomb. It wouldn’t be suspicious for anyone to light the log fire, and once that was done the killer would have more than enough resources to set off the explosives, saving them the hassle of fiddling about with a match.”

Mesmer’s eyes lit up. “You mentioned the fire. When we arrived on the scene, what did it look like?”

“Like a fire,” I retorted. “What was it supposed to look like?”

“Let’s be more specific. The arrangement of the logs and kindling looked rather normal, don’t you think? Like something out of a family winter scene. I’m sure everyone can agree on this. Now, why would that be odd?”

The answer fell into place like a lead weight. “Because… there’d just been an explosion.”

“Precisely,” Mesmer said. “Everything else in the room was in pieces, and if the nail bomb was set off at the end of the table nearest the door as you so claim, that puts it just a few feet away from the fireplace. If you ask me, that doesn’t add up.”

“So I’m an idiot? Is that it!?” I rasped. “Just because one small thing doesn’t fit while literally everything else does!?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mesmer said calmly. “Why leave one stone unturned when our lives are on the line?”

“Greyscale, he’s right,” Dopple said in an apologetic tone. “We can’t drop this.”

I clenched my eyelids but the image of Mesmer’s smug expression remained, filling me with rage.

“You heard her,” Mesmer said mockingly. “Let’s discuss this, shall we?” 

The stage began to spin. 




Truth Bullets



Broken Window



Fireplace Guard



Monobunny File #2



Reph’s Account



Piece of Rope



Crowbars


Mesmer: It seems strange to me that the fire would be in such an ordinary state upon our arrival, don’t you agree? 

Elsie: So the explosion never happened!? 

Copper: I just don’t see how that makes sense.

Mesmer: At the very least such a blast would have knocked the logs over, given the short distance between the fire and suspected explosion placement. 

Sanscript: That’s right! If you think about it, the fire would definitely have been hit by the blast. Nothing could have stopped it!

Dish Panner: That’s not all. If powder floated into the fire it could very well have set off another explosion.

Button: I get it! The explosion would’ve snuffed out the fire, right? 

Mesmer: That’s not certain, but a very real possibility.

Lancet: Can we even be sure the killer didn’t start the fire after the explosion?

Reph: What would be the point in that?

Lancet: Maybe they thought it’d throw us off their scent.

Elsie: Could someone really have rearranged the fireplace just for such a thing? Would the killer have had time? Surely they’d want to make a quick getaway.

Reph: How can we have hit a dead end s-so early on?

There is no dead end. The answer is right here! But if it’s what I think it is, that means…
> Trial Two - Part 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“NO, THAT’S WRONG!”



Fireplace Guard <> Nothing could have stopped it



< Argument Break >



 


I chuckled to myself, shooting Mesmer an amused smirk. “How could you not have noticed?” I said. “The solution was right under your nose.”

“Oh?” Mesmer responded, appearing unfazed. “Do tell.”

“There was something in the rec room that had every capacity to protect the fire from the explosion. That being, the fireplace guard.”

“Yes,” Mesmer replied. “A strange design, wouldn’t you say? Completely unlike others I’ve seen before. Its opacity would’ve almost nullified the effects of air disturbance and left the fire essentially intact.”

My jaw hung in the air as words failed me. Mesmer’s response made no sense. It was as if he’d expected every word I’d spoken.

“Wait a second!” Inky cried. “I thought you said there wasn’t an explosion, now you’re saying there was? Come on, which is it!?”

“I don’t believe this,” Copper grumbled, shaking her head in dismay. “You knew! You led us down the wrong path on purpose!”

“What’s important,” Mesmer said, “is that we figure out every last detail, and since we’ve established that the fireplace guard must have been in place during the explosion, we can learn a great deal more about this murder.”

“What’s your game?” I said meekly, trying to process Mesmer’s logic. “Why treat me like an idiot when you knew I was right?”

“But you weren’t right,” Mesmer replied. “You figured out the basic method but forgot to think of the bigger picture. Not only that, but when challenged on it, you failed to simply dismiss my claims that instant and provide the answer. Instead, you acted surprised and wallowed in anger, allowing me to supposedly unfurl a rather airtight hypothesis. Do you understand?”

I sighed and dropped to the floor, feeling all the stupider for falling into Mesmer’s trap. All I wanted was to be one step ahead. “You were just test–” I stopped for a moment, realizing that the test was far from over, that I had something else to figure out. I thought about the ramifications of this new revelation. “The fireplace guard. It wasn’t in place when we got there, but it had to have been in place before.” I stood upright. “The explosion might’ve knocked it, but I don’t think it would’ve blown it from its original spot. Otherwise, the clips on either side would’ve been wrenched open, or ripped off the wall, and that clearly wasn’t the case. Yoko wouldn’t have unclipped it, which means it was someone or something else.”

Mesmer smiled, the stony expression from before dissipating in an instant. “Yes. That’s I wanted you to figure out.”

I understood. His message was clear. I had failed to see something so very important, something that might’ve seemed inconsequential, but painted a picture of even stranger goings on. He couldn’t have just told me. I had to see the light by myself. I had to be better. I had to prove my worth. I couldn’t allow myself to be a bad detective. A wave of delight passed over me, washing away my anger like a waterfall. I felt well and truly alive. 

“Okay…” Elsie said, looking bewildered. “With that out of the way, the question is, how did the killer pull it off?”

“Um, hello,” Button jibed, rolling his eyes. “Nail bomb.”

“I know that, you little twerp!” Elsie snapped. “What I mean is, how did they do it? Could they have set a fuse? Were they in the room at the time? Did Yoko set off a tripwire or something?”

“A unicorn did it,” Maribelle muttered. “That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time.”

“Is that so?” Dish Panner said. “Explain.”

“Of course.” Maribelle cleared her throat. “Before I begin, do not confuse my accusation with anti-horn bigotry. I am not making this claim on the basis of race or the propensity to commit murder, but ability. I do not see how anyone could have remained in the room unscathed, and I also do not see how the killer could have set up a tripwire that would immediately set off the nail bomb.”

“We don’t know that,” Sanscript interrupted, raising a hoof. “It might have been disposed of. As for surviving in the room, they could’ve hidden behind one of the sofas.”

“I dunno,” Inky said, rubbing her chin. “That’d be a heck of a risk. Some of the shrapnel tore right through the fabric, but I guess it could be possible, maybe?”

“No, even if that’s the case,” Maribelle continued, “didn’t someone say earlier that the only way the powder could’ve ignited was if it was shaken up like a snow-globe? Could that have been the work of a pegasus or earth pony? They would have had to shake it with their own hooves.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Copper said. “And if that’s the case, they would’ve been blasted to pieces.”

“Absolutely,” Maribelle affirmed, nodding. “Only a unicorn, with their ability to levitate objects, would have been able to set off the nail bomb while remaining out of harm’s way.” She took a deep breath, eyeing the rest of the group with a serious gaze. “It means we can finally narrow down our list of suspects to Mesmer, Elsie, Sanscript and the Doctor. Anyone with an alibi should speak now, and we’ll go from there.”

“Now wait a second,” Mesmer said brashly. “Making such a bold statement will only take us down the path of wild accusations and derail this trial.”

“Of course you’d say that,” Maribelle said softly, her face stony and unflinching. “You’re a unicorn. Am I right in assuming you don’t have an alibi that can be backed up by anyone else?”

Mesmer’s eyes narrowed. “No. No-one was with me until after the body discovery announcement.”

“I should say,” Sanscript interjected, “that Mesmer didn’t like Yoko all that much.” He caught Mesmer’s furious glare and flinched. “In fact, th-they didn’t get on at all!”

“If that’s your argument,” Maribelle said, “then surely Elsie should be the most suspicious, since she didn’t like Yoko either.”

“That’s…!” Elsie began, but merely remained with her mouth open.

Maribelle continued. “But you, Sanscript, just tried to pin the murder on Mesmer simply because he didn’t get along with Yoko. Surely it shouldn’t matter who the victim is if the killer’s actions would see the rest of us die too? Seems a little suspicious to me. Do you have an alibi?”

Sanscript hung his head. “No. I, much like Mesmer, was alone before Yoko’s body was found.”

Lancet spoke up. “I met with Greyscale before the announcement and we discovered the body with Dopple and Elsie.” She sighed. “But I suppose that proves neither mine nor Elsie’s innocence. I didn’t meet Greyscale until a minute or so after the explosion, assuming that’s what that terrible sound was this morning.”

“She’s right,” Elsie said, looking deflated. “I can’t prove my innocence either. I was awoken by that noise too, but I wouldn’t have imagined it was a nail bomb of all things. I stayed in bed until I heard a scream outside my door.” She looked up at me apologetically. “Sorry for attacking you, by the way. I just assumed you were forcing yourself on the Doctor, because, well…” She bit her lip and averted my gaze. “I’ve known something like that happen before. As soon as I heard her scream, my mind instantly went to that. Again, sorry.”

“That’s… that’s alright,” I replied. I had my questions but thought better than to ask. 

“Sanscript!” Inky said aloud, visibly shaken. “It can’t have been you, right?”

“Of course not!” the stallion yelled. “I wouldn’t dream of it!”

“We don’t know that,” Dish Panner said. “We all thought the same thing about Shetland, remember? I don’t think we can judge someone’s innocence based on their character.”

“Yeah, but I still think it was Mesmer,” Button snarked. “He’s the creepiest one here, and killing someone with a complicated plan seems like just the kind of thing he’d do.”

“Whomever it is,” Maribelle said, “I think it would be best if the four unicorns kept quiet.”

“Now hold on!” Elsie cried. “We deserve to have our say just as much as anyone! Even if a unicorn did this, which I still think is jumping to conclusions, that makes three of us that didn’t!”

“Greyscale?” Mesmer said. “What do you think?”

“Me? Why should I get to decide?”

“I never said that,” Mesmer replied. “I merely asked for your opinion. Why should you get to decide, indeed?”

Even now, he’s messing with me, I thought. Still, it was an awkward situation to be in. Mesmer. Elsie. Sanscript. Lancet. If what we’d figured out was true, it seemed like there was no way for a non-unicorn to have pulled it off. It meant one of those four was a killer. A lump formed in my throat. “We let them speak.” I turned to Maribelle. “Like Elsie said, three of them are innocent and might be able to help the rest of us during the trial. It also means the killer will have to watch what they say or risk mounting even more suspicion on themselves. But…” I licked my lips nervously. “We should still think twice about taking their words as fact.”

The four unicorns stood in pained silence, a mixture of grief, anger and worry on their faces. It was Lancet who spoke first. “So be it,” she said with a sigh. “I just hope you all make the right call.”

“J-just a moment, everyone,” Reph murmured timidly, raising a hoof. “If that is indeed the case, I’m j-just wondering how they went about it? We know they could’ve used their magic to sh-shake the container, but where were they when it happened?”

“They could’ve been anywhere, right?” Button said. “So long as they knew someone was in the room, they could’ve set it off! Kablooey!”

“That’s not true!” Sanscript interjected. “For a unicorn to do all that, they would’ve needed to see what they were doing. Keeping a flame just far enough from an explosive so as not to set it off prematurely and ensuring that it is activated at just the right time would be almost impossible if you couldn’t see the items in question. It would be like trying to build a house of cards in the dark.”

“Almost impossible,” Maribelle emphasized. “I’m sure with enough practice, anyone could train themselves to do such a thing.”

“That’s not the half of it!” Sanscript continued, getting more flustered by the second. “You’d need empty space between yourself and the apparatus! Monobunny has already expressed that using advanced magic is off limits. If you picked up an apple in one room and then closed the door on yourself, that would cut off direct contact with it, requiring you to utilize a magical grasp that extended through the door without physically affecting it. That would be in breach of the rules, meaning one of us would be missing a leg.”

“I’m sure there’s an easy answer,” Maribelle retorted. “So that’s what we’ll figure out next. Where could they have been when the bomb went off?”

“Not in the rec room,” Inky said. “No way they could’ve gotten out without a nail in the chest, and they still would’ve had to get out past all the stuff on the floor without cutting themselves and fight past Yoko, who still had enough strength to break down a door!”

“There must have been a clue,” Copper said. “But I can’t think what.”

Even with a fresh batch of suspects, the mystery was still far from being unraveled. One step at a time, I reminded myself. I know I can do this!




Truth Bullets



Reph’s Account



Broken Window



Service Bell



Piece of Rope



Threatening Sign



Crowbars



 


Button: If the killer wasn’t in the rec room, where were they?

Elsie: They would’ve needed line of sight, just like Sanscript said.

Inky: Maybe they waited in the hallway?

Copper: Wouldn’t Yoko have known something was up? You don’t just stand in the hallway without looking suspicious.

Maribelle: Not necessarily. The rec room was the meeting place for the MonoMart check. If it was Mesmer or Sanscript, it wouldn’t have seemed suspicious at all. 

Dish Panner: For all we know they could’ve just waited behind the door. 

Copper: I know it sounds crazy, but what if they were looking in through the window? 

Elsie: That sounds rather far-fetched, don’t you think?

Reph: Well, they’d have line of sight and wouldn’t need to worry about breaking the rules, provided the window was open.

Maribelle: But how would that work? There’s nothing they could have held on to. 

Elsie: Or better yet, how would they have gotten up there in the first place?

Inky: Ooh, maybe they climbed through the window!

Dish Panner: But then they couldn’t have got back to the ground without breaking a leg. Not to mention, it wouldn’t explain other aspects of the murder.

Button: Or they built a tower out of, I dunno, paint tins or something, and climbed on that.

Lancet: We didn’t find anything like that, though.

Copper: Sorry. I knew it was a stupid suggestion.

The killer had something at their disposal, something that would’ve allowed them to keep their eye on the situation. I just need to point it out!
> Trial Two - Part 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“NO, THAT’S WRONG!”



Piece of Rope <> Nothing they could’ve held on to.



< Argument Break >



 


“I think Copper might have been right. The killer could very well have been the other side of the rec room window, looking in.”

“What? How!?” Dish Panner exclaimed. “Do you seriously think someone could have climbed through the window? That’s impossible!”

“Unless someone here is a secret contortionist!” Button cried. 

“No,” I said. “They didn’t climb through. They climbed up from the outside.”

“With what?” Dish Panner asked, shaking her head perplexedly. “Unless you’ve forgotten, the rec room is on the second floor. We’re not talking a matter of a few feet, we’re talking five ponies high! They didn’t build a tower and it’s not like they could’ve clambered up with an ice pick or something.”

“No, nothing like that, but they could’ve climbed up there using a rope.”

“Rope?” Dish Panner balked. “This is the first I’m hearing of this!”

“Yeah, Grey,” Copper said. “We found all kinds of stuff like the knife, the crowbars, but not a rope. And didn’t you guys check all that stuff in the MonoMart? I heard the count hasn’t changed one bit and suddenly there’s weapons and tools lying all over the place. How do you explain that?”

“I don’t know that. Yet,” I admitted. It was the biggest mystery of the entire trial, something I had no answers for. “But still, we know there was a rope. Dopple and I found it in the rec room fireplace.”

Dopple nodded. “I can attest to that.”

“Really?” Lancet remarked. “What was it doing in there?”

“The killer was probably trying to dispose of the evidence,” I continued, “We only found a small piece, but from what we could tell, there could have been a whole coil of it that got burned up. There was definitely something else in the fire aside from the wood. If so, judging by how long the coils are in the MonoMart, it would’ve been long enough to reach the roof.”

Dish Panner rubbed at her chin thoughtfully. “There are two things I don’t understand. First, if we’re assuming the killer was a unicorn, how would they have fastened the rope to the side of the building in order to climb up? There’s already a rule in place that prevents unicorns from levitating themselves by simply standing on or holding onto an object and then levitating it. Secondly, if that’s what they did, how did the rope end up in the fire?”

“I… don’t know,” I sighed. For all my apparent breakthroughs I still felt as if I were grasping at straws. I half-expected Mesmer to jump in and start mocking me, but he was being remarkably quiet. 

“Then it’s mere speculation,” Dish Panner said, rolling her eyes. “What even points to the rope being used in the first place? How do we know it wasn’t there by pure coincidence?”

“If so,” Maribelle said, “whomever brought the rope to the rec room should speak up and give their reason so as to clarify whether it is connected to the murder.”

Silence was the answer.

“Maybe Yoko brought it,” Button suggested. “I dunno, maybe he was gonna try an’ hang himself. Ooh! Or maybe he was gonna use it himself to strangle whoever came through the door!”

“Even if someone innocent brought it,” Sanscript said, “I can’t see them admitting to it, as it would only pose more questions and cast suspicion on themselves.”

“I say we forget the rope,” Dish Panner said with a wave of her hoof. “I can’t see how it connects to anything other than by some wild stretch of the imagination.”

“Indeed,” Maribelle said. “It seems far more likely that the killer was just waiting in the hallway or followed Yoko into the rec room. Who is to say the nail bomb was originally on the end of the table? It could’ve been hidden somewhere at first, then the killer could have simply moved it into place and set it off, running away as they did so.”

My eyes were planted square at the floor as the others engaged in back-and-forth suggestions about the killer’s methods. My head was pounding, the fear that I’d proposed a ridiculous solution bearing down on me like hail stones. Nobody was even considering the use of the rope. I started to think that maybe my hunch was wrong, that maybe I’d made the same mistake again and again. I looked over at Mesmer, the stallion’s eyes fixed on me pensively. I stared back, trying to gauge his intentions. Was he laughing at me? Pitying me? Or maybe…

A spark went off in my mind. I bolted upright. “That’s how the rope fits in,” I muttered. 

“What did you say?” Lancet said beside me. 

“Wait, everyone!” I bellowed, interrupting the conversation. I received some stern, unamused looks. “I know how the rope was used. I… I should’ve realized it sooner!”

“You do?” Copper said, glancing at the others. “Let’s hear him out.”

I took a deep breath. There was another clue, something else that was out of place, something that backed up my insane hypothesis. Something that connects to the rope, something that explains it all…

 


What other truth bullet is connected to the rope?



Trail of Blood



Threatening Sign



Service Bell



State of The Body



Crowbars



Fireplace Guard



MonoMart Stock Check



 



What would this allow the rope to be used as?



P I N K  G R A P H L O G O

> Trial Two - Part 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Crowbars



+



P I N K  G R A P H L O G O



v



v



v



G R A P P L I N G  H O O K



 



“IT CONNECTS!”



 


“We found traces of the rope on something else during our investigation – the crowbars. We inspected them carefully and, sure enough, fibrous strands were stuck all over each of them, the same fibers you’d expect to find on one of the MonoMart ropes.”

“That is strange,” Reph commented. “B-but what does it mean?”

“It means the killer, by tying the rope around the crowbars and gluing them together in a specific way, was able to forge a makeshift grappling hook, something that would allow them to hook onto the roof and climb up and down the side of the building without fear of falling. Now does the rope seem like a vital piece of evidence?”

“Urgh,” Dish Panner groaned. “Why didn’t you mention that before? Anyway, can we even be sure that plan would work? Could you really make a grappling hook that’d be secure enough to hold on to the roof?”

“Yes, I believe so,” Dopple answered. “I’ve been up to the roof multiple times now, and it’s not a sheer flat surface. There’s both a higher and lower section since the third floor doesn’t cover the same amount of floorspace, but regardless, the perimeter for each consists of a short wall that stands above the traversable surface, with the top slabs jutting outwards slightly. This means a grappling hook could feasibly hook over the edge of these slabs and give a reasonably safe hold. Reph? Copper? You know what I’m talking about, right?”

The two other pegasi nodded. “Yeah,” Copper said. “Now that I think about it, it seems obvious.”

“That doesn’t answer everything,” Reph said, frowning. “Where would the k-killer have made their ascent and descent? I’m assuming they set up the bomb in the early hours of the morning, but then what?”

“It could’ve been anywhere,” Maribelle said. “Our room windows are big enough to fit through if you open them fully, so they could’ve done so whether they were outside on the ground or in a room on the first or second floor. Assuming the grappling hook was pre-made, they could’ve hooked it into place and tested if it would work by pulling on it. We all know when the meeting times are in the rec room, so they could’ve lowered themselves near the window just before that time. The bomb went off a little past six, so the killer was probably there just before that.” She exhaled deeply. “This just goes to further prove that this was perpetrated by a unicorn.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “It does seem that way.”

“I still don’t get it,” Button said. “Isn’t it weird how the crowbars were scattered outside but the rope that was wrapped around them ended up on the inside? It’s all kinds of crazy.”

“Even so,” I said, “we’ve figured out this much. The killer used a makeshift grappling hook, allowing them to manipulate the nail bomb from outside the building. They would’ve had line of sight and–”

“Hold on a second!” Inky yelled. “I ain’t convinced.”

“What? Why?” I asked. “It all fits together so far.”

“Nope,” Inky affirmed, shaking her head and smiling. “There’s something about your theory that doesn’t make sense. There’s all these rules about what magic unicorns can use and stuff, and it’s got me thinking, what you’re saying ain’t right.” She tipped an imaginary hat. “It’s elemental, my dear Greyscale!”

“Elementary,” Sanscript corrected.

“Elementary? You know, I was pretty mature when I was in elementary school,” Inky chimed wistfully. “I did my fair share of flirting with some of the local high school colts, and my hard work paid off in the end, I can tell you that!”

“I’m gonna be sick,” Elsie grumbled, holding a hoof over her mouth.

“Hey, I stuck by the rules and waited it out!” Inky retorted. “Well, except that one time. Okay, maybe four times, but I was nearly legal, and he doesn’t count anyway. What were we talking about? Oh yeah!” She stomped her hoof defiantly. “I got some problems with your grappling hook story, Greyscale! Let’s battle!”

I gulped, partly from the extreme embarrassment of Inky’s inappropriate comments, but also the prospect of being outwitted so soon after reaching my hypothesis. I had to be sure of my proclamations. I couldn’t back down! “Alright.”

“That’s the spirit! Oh, and Maribelle, you don’t need to pray. I think we’ll solve this case.”

 


Greyscale vs Ink Slinger



Truth Blades



Monobunny File #2



Broken Window



Broken Lock



State of The Body



Pieces of Metal and Glass



Crowbars



 


Inky: Alright, so a unicorn could’ve done most of this, but there’s a rule they’d have needed to break!


Greyscale: What do you mean? They’d have had line of sight and been clear from the blast.


Inky: I still think they were in the corridor or something instead.


Greyscale: But we have evidence that suggests otherwise.


Inky: You say that, but there’s a chance it was planted to trick us, so we thought they did something totally different!


Greyscale: That’s grasping at straws.


Inky: But aren’t unicorns banned from penetrating walls and stuff? And all except one of them is banned from penetrating something else…


Greyscale: How would this make them break any rules?


Inky: When we got to the rec room, the window was closed, with the handle turned all the way, right?


Greyscale: Was it? Would that make a difference?


Inky: Well, wouldn’t the window need to be open while they were waiting for Yoko? Then after they set off the nail bomb, there’s no way to close it up tight. That would’ve cut off their magical tentacles or whatever they’re called. And they can’t have just pushed it into place, you know. That wouldn’t shut it properly.


Greyscale: I suppose not, but–


Inky: And they couldn’t have done it after that, right? We were the first ones in the room, right after Yoko got killed. Seems to me it’s just not possible.

I understand your logic, Inky, but you’ve forgotten one minor detail.
> Trial Two - Part 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“ALLOW ME TO CUT THROUGH THOSE WORDS!”



Broken Window <> would’ve cut off their magical tentacles



< Argument Break >



 


“First of all, they’re tendrils, Inky, not tentacles. Secondly, they wouldn’t have been cut.”

“Actually,” Sanscript butted in with, “both words would suffice in describing how it works. I’m not against the use of tentacles.”

“I’ll hold you to that!” Inky exclaimed, giggling. “But seriously, why not? The unicorn would’ve needed to close the window before moving the handle, and that’s impossible from the outside! Once the window is slammed shut, it’s shut! They’d need to go through the glass or something, which is against the rules.”

“They went through the glass, alright,” I explained. “That is, through the holes in the glass that were produced when the bomb went off. Pieces of shrapnel shot through, meaning the unicorn’s tentacles – I mean tendrils – could have just gone through those. That way they could’ve locked the window without needing to be on the other side.”

“Ah, damn.” Inky threw her head back and let out a groan. “I thought I was onto something there, but I guess you were right all along.”

“This does make a whole lot of sense,” Dish Panner admitted. “I’m sorry I doubted it initially, but it all seemed too ridiculous. Now it fits, for the most part, at least. We’re still having to make assumptions.”

“A good detective needs to make assumptions,” Mesmer cut in with, breaking his silence after what felt like an age. “Questioning every little thing and considering the most minutely possible freak occurrences is rarely the most helpful strategy.”

“Does this mean I’m a good detective?” I beamed.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Mesmer replied, shrugging.

Of course. I shouldn’t have expected anything different. 

“Hey, hey!” Button cried, pointing a hoof at Mesmer. “You’re doing that thing again! What’s the word? Cryptic? Yeah, it’s like you’re trying to bamboozle us, but I’m not gonna fall for it!”

Mesmer raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘whatever,’ catching an accusatory glare from Maribelle, before going silent once again. 

“J-just one thing,” Reph quivered, raising a hoof. “Wouldn’t it have been a little risky to do all this? What if someone went outside and saw them?”

“They didn’t, though,” Copper said. “If it was that early in the morning, who would’ve been up?”

“This might not have happened,” Dish Panner huffed, “if we hadn’t designated the rec room as the MonoMart meeting place. We could've just left it at meeting by the entrance.”

“Wait,” Inky piped up. “Wasn’t it Greyscale who suggested it in the first place?”

“Yes, but it was Mesmer who agreed to it,” Dish Panner replied. “Something like this happened in the last trial. Copper made a suggestion for watching out over the stairs, but it was Shetland who agreed to it since it helped him recover Pinkie’s body.”

“Don’t!” Copper cried, baring her teeth in fury. “Don’t make it out like it was my fault, okay? I came up with what I thought was a good idea, one that would’ve let us keep an eye out for Pinkie. It didn’t turn out that way, and Shetland nearly got away with it because of me. Do you think I don’t regret that every minute of every day?”

“I’m sorry,” Dish Panner said, looking forlorn. “I was merely stating an observation.”

“Correlation doesn’t equal causation,” Mesmer growled. “If you’re seeing patterns like that you might as well give up trying to solve this. Besides, we’re in danger no matter where we go. It’s not as if the rec room was a death zone while everywhere else was a safe haven. That’s why I feel no guilt in agreeing to Greyscale’s proposal. If we’d agreed to meeting outside and someone was killed outside, would that also implicate me? Copper, you too shouldn’t feel a shred of guilt either. Pinkie was already dead by that point, anyway.”

Copper averted his gaze, her cheeks flaring. “Yeah. Well.”

“I r-really mean it,” Reph stammered. “The killer would have been outside, clambering all over the walls. If they were spotted, it’d all be over.”

“Yes,” Mesmer said, raising an eyebrow. “And they would’ve had to go into the rec room with a nail bomb at some point between last night and this morning. They could’ve been spotted while they were doing that.”

“That w-would’ve been easier than–” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Mesmer interrupted. “Any murder requires some risk.”

“I almost went outside this morning, before the body announcement.” Maribelle looked indignant as she said it. “I can understand why Reph would consider it.”

“Why?” Mesmer asked. “This is an odd thing to bring up. What possible reason could you have for going outside so early on? You’d better not be lying just to undermine me.”

“No, I’m not,” she said sharply. “It was the noise.”

Mesmer scoffed. “What noise? If you’re talking about the nail bomb, which I’m sure most of us heard, you would have clearly heard it coming from inside the building, unless something’s wrong with your hearing.”

“I’m not talking about that,” Maribelle continued. “I didn’t mention it before because I wasn’t sure what it was, but now I’m pretty sure. It was the crowbars.”

“The crowbars?” Copper parroted.

Maribelle nodded. “I heard some kind of metallic clatter outside my room. I have the window open at night, so that’s probably why I heard it.”

“Reckless,” Mesmer chided. “Anyone could find their way into your room and you wouldn’t stand a chance. But anyway, continue.”

“After I heard the noise, I went to investigate. I don’t know why I did it, really. I knew the danger, but a part of me thought perhaps the exit door had opened, and I’d just heard the mechanism. I rushed to the lobby, but could go no further. Monobunny had forbidden it.”

“What!?” Sanscript exclaimed. “Whatever for? Was the exit truly open?”

“I don’t think so,” Maribelle answered, a tinge of anguish in her voice. I felt as if I now understood her sudden change in mood since this morning. She had gotten her hopes up only for them to be dashed in an instant. Even now, she was fighting with herself, coming to terms with our dire situation. Since the last trial she’d become more prone to emotional outbursts. Her incredible beauty had been eclipsed by dejection and panicked fervor. In that moment, I desperately wanted to hold her. Not in a sensuous way, but as an act of protection. She was a tragic sight. “Even if it was, I would have surely been cut to ribbons by Monobunny for breaking the rules.”

“He was blocking the way?” Elsie asked. 

“It’s obvious,” Dish Panner said. “If Maribelle went outside and spotted the killer in the act, it would’ve been one short trial. My guess is he wanted to make things more exciting, at least in his own warped sense of reality. Having the killer be caught before an investigation has even started would’ve ruined his fun. Though isn’t that cheating, somewhat?”

“Well,” Maribelle muttered, cupping her jaw. “He wasn’t blocking the way, but he had a warning sign put up.”

“Well yeah,” Button said, looking bemused. “He needed to be around to cut Yoko’s leg off when he smashed up Reph’s lock, so he couldn’t have been in two places at once.”

“I don’t buy it,” Copper fumed, her ire pointed directly at Maribelle. “Did anyone else see this sign she’s talking about?”

“Yes,” Dopple said. “A small group of us encountered such a thing stuck to the inside of the entrance, but Monobunny tore it down and allowed us to search the grounds and MonoMart.”

“In that case,” Copper continued, “I still don’t buy it. I feel like Maribelle is hiding something!”

“Why would I?” Maribelle shot back, sounding offended. “Dopple already backed up my story, so what is your problem?”

“I think you know,” Copper said annoyedly. “You’re not an idiot, so don’t try and act like the ditzy dolt all of a sudden.”

What’s gotten into her? I wondered. Copper looked as if she was ready to fight. “Copper, is everything alright?”

“Grey, do your thing,” she said, giving me an affirmative nod. “We need to get to the bottom of this.”


Truth Bullets



Threatening Sign



MonoMart Stock Check



Service Bell



Reph’s Account



Piece of Rope



 


Copper: Something stinks about Maribelle’s story.

Elsie: Are you sure? I can confirm Dopple’s statement. Monobunny put up a sign to stop us from heading any further. 

Copper: Did it occur to you that may not have been the case?

Sanscript: I knew it! The killer put up that sign, making us think it was Monobunny’s doing!

Dish Panner: If it wasn’t Monobunny who put up the sign, the threats would’ve been meaningless. 

Button: You know, it makes me wonder…

Copper: Exactly. Maribelle’s statement doesn’t add up. She could’ve easily checked with Monobunny if it was real or not!

Button: No, I mean, what if the killer had some secret method of getting stuff from the MonoMart! If they scared everyone off, nobody could see what they were doing!

Copper: It doesn’t matter what was behind the door, what matters is Maribelle’s testimony!

Reph: If only the group who went to the MonoMart before the rest of us saw the sign, Maribelle must have seen it before then. 

Maribelle: Of course I did. I’m not lying to any of you!

Is Maribelle really trying to lead us on? There’s something I need to clarify in order for us to reach the truth!
> Trial Two - Part 9
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“NO, THAT’S WRONG!”



Service Bell <> checked with Monobunny



< Argument Break >



 


“Hang on a second, Copper. It’s highly unlikely Maribelle would’ve been able to summon Monobunny at that time.”

“Because it was then that Yoko had his leg cut off?” Copper replied. “That’s not a clear-cut explanation.”

“No, that’s not it. She wouldn’t have been able to use the service bell.”

“Why not?”

“It wasn’t there,” I stated. “When our group first went downstairs during the investigation we came across that sign – the one Maribelle spoke about. We weren’t sure what to make of it at first, so Dopple reached for the bell on the counter to get Monobunny’s attention, but it was missing. Monobunny came along and tore the sign down, allowing us outside. When Dopple checked the rooftop for clues, she came back with the service bell.”

“Oh,” Maribelle exclaimed. “So that’s where it was hiding, up on the roof? I did look for the bell, but since I couldn’t find it, I assumed Monobunny had taken it away somewhere because he was busy. Still, I wasn’t about to risk losing a limb – or worse – by being curious and peeking outside.”

“So that’s how it was?” Button remarked, shooting Monobunny a stern glare. “You knew the killer’s cover would be blown if we spotted them abseiling down the wall so you locked us all inside the hotel, then made it impossible to find you so we’d step out the door and get pulverized!”

“That’s not right,” Lancet said. “If that was the case, the killer themselves would have been breaking the rules.”

“Maybe not!” Button quipped, holding a hoof aloft in a declarative fashion. “You know how Monobunny is with his Ultimate Honesty nonsense. What if it was against the rules to leave the hotel, but if you were already outside before the rule change you wouldn’t technically be breaking the rules!”

“A clever thought,” Mesmer said, “but very wrong. Monobunny has told us that if any changes are made to the rules, those affected must be notified. This leads me to believe that Monobunny wasn’t the one who put up that sign.”

“So it was the killer!?” Inky cried. “They tricked us by pretending it was Monobunny’s threat!?”

“We need to know,” Dopple said, looking up at the monochrome rabbit hoisted above us, his head tilted as if to simulate an innocent puppy. “Monobunny, were you the one who put up that sign? And had you truly banned anyone from leaving the hotel?”

“I can confirm wholeheartedly that I had nothing to do with the sign on the front door or the service bell being removed from its rightful place in the lobby,” Monobunny screeched. “And as Mesmer has pointed out, if I ever wished to ban anyone from leaving the hotel, I would’ve made that rule change absolutely clear!”

“Then who was it?” Maribelle asked.

“I’m not allowed to reveal that,” Monobunny replied, chuckling. 

“Figures,” Copper muttered disappointedly. “Otherwise, we’d know who the killer was. I suppose I owe you an apology, Maribelle. I think anyone would’ve been confused if they were in your situation.”

“That’s alright,” Maribelle replied. “This murder is…” she trailed off, tensing a little. “It’s all too much to contend with.”

“Okay, so the killer hid the bell?” Elsie remarked, sighing. “That is a rather clever failsafe, and judging by Maribelle’s testimony it sounds like it worked a treat.”

“Yeah,” Inky said unsurely, tapping at her chin. “But couldn’t they have done anything more? I mean, if you’re going to all the trouble of drawing up a sign and flinging the bell up on the roof, wouldn’t you do something else, like pile a bunch of stuff in front of the door, that way nobody could get through even if they ignored the warnings?”

“Like what?” Lancet asked.

“I don’t know, tins of paint? Crates of fruit? Boxes of crackers? So long as you pile enough in one place it’ll be heavy enough, right? And you have to push the doors open to get out, so it would’ve been pretty easy, especially for a unicorn.”

“You forget,” Elsie said, “that they wouldn’t have been able to even get those things. This has been on my mind since we started this whole thing. How did the killer get hold of everything? The glass container and powder I can accept, but the knife, the rope and the crowbars? It just doesn’t make any sense after how much we’ve tried to put a lid on anyone taking those things!”

“Well,” Sanscript muttered. “You were the one who painted the numbers down.”

“And!?” Elsie shrieked furiously. “If you’re insinuating that I tricked you all by making up numbers, how on Equus could I have fooled so many of you!? We laid all the weapons out neatly, nothing hidden, nothing missed!”

“That’s right,” Dish Panner said. “And we know from Monobunny that items in the MonoMart are only ever restocked if they get consumed, destroyed, or leave the dome through the sewage system. Not to mention, the restocks only happen at night, when nobody is allowed inside.”

“Then it’s impossible,” Reph said, trembling. “I c-can’t understand it.”

“No,” Dopple affirmed. “It happened, so it was possible. What we need to do is figure out how.”

“I’ll start,” Dish Panner said. “We all need to confirm that all of our respective checks were done.”

“Not everyone can,” Mesmer put in. “We had this discussion the other day. Inky, Maribelle and Button were all guilty of missing their respective checks. That’s why we ended up picking a designated meeting room in the first place. Am I allowed to be angry about that now?” he said mockingly, staring down Maribelle. “Or is someone’s death and the threat of our execution just a rustling of leaves next to the horrors I unleashed by shouting at Button and smashing some crockery!?”

Maribelle kept her eyes down, evidently fuming. “With all due respect, we have no reason to believe this was the cause of such a thing. Was it not your group that performed the check last night? Since the MonoMart wouldn’t have been open before the murder took place, that would’ve been the last chance anyone would’ve had.”

“There were five of us,” I spoke up. “Dopple, Sanscript, Mesmer, myself and… Yoko.” I had a moment of faintness as I remembered the friend that I had lost. Stop thinking about it! “Well, the four of us can vouch for each other. The check ran as normal, and we stayed outside until closing time. For all of us to have collaborated is unthinkable, I’m sure you’ll agree.”

“It is,” Maribelle replied dourly. “I just can’t think of another way it could’ve happened.”

“The answer is obvious,” Mesmer said. He stayed silent for another few moments.

“Well!?” Elsie snapped irately. “If it’s so obvious, what is it?”

Mesmer sighed. “I’m honestly flabbergasted that nobody has spoken up about it. I don’t want to have to spell it all out.” He stared at me, his expression dispassionate, almost bored. Then he looked away. “Come on, think. If each and every one of our checks was successful, what does that tell us?”

“The numbers,” Reph muttered. “D-do you think they were changed?”

“No,” Dopple answered. “I made sure to memorize them all.”

“Same here,” Copper said. “And I would’ve definitely noticed if half a dozen crowbars were pulled from that amount.”

Dopple sighed, resting her head in her hoof. “I should’ve realized something was off. I knew it was strange that there were only three crowbars when I could’ve sworn there were more there on our first day. Then there’s the differing number between kitchen knives and combat knives. Why stock eight of one and seven of the other when they’re the same size?”

“Quite the observation!” Monobunny chimed in. “As it happens, the MonoMonoMart does indeed stock eight of each type of knife!”

“So it definitely came from there?” Lancet asked. “There weren’t any hidden weapons being kept somewhere else?”

“Absolutely not! The MonoMonoMart is the only place someone could acquire such weaponry. I thought you should’ve all learned this after the first day.”

“That’s true,” Dish Panner said. “We searched pretty much everywhere and couldn’t even find a knife in the kitchen, let alone crowbars.”

“Then how?” Copper muttered. “How did the killer get to them?”

Everyone was looking around, as if waiting for the answer to jump out of thin air. If Mesmer says it’s obvious, I said inwardly, it must be staring at us in the face. But what!? I almost began losing the plot, entertaining all manner of convoluted methods, when it finally dawned on me. I slapped myself in the forehead, damning myself for being so stupid. “You’re kidding me!”

“So you finally realized it,” Mesmer said smugly. “Wars have been fought and won in less time.”

“Mesmer was right, it’s obvious.” I straightened myself up. “The killer would’ve only had one chance to render the stock check obsolete, and that is to have taken the items and hidden them away before the first check ever took place. More specifically, it would’ve been just after the first trial.”

“That’s right!” Sanscript exclaimed. “Everyone went their separate ways before Monobunny called for a meeting in the dining hall. After that, we were all accounted for, except..." His eyes grew wide. "Greyscale and Dopple. They were the only ones who left the dining room before the the first stock check took place."

"Greyscale and I can confirm each other's alibis," Dopple said. "He'd gone straight to his room after an argument with Mesmer, and I followed after him."

"Yeah," I said with a nod. "And there was barely any time between me reaching my room and you knocking on the door, so it's not like you could have darted to the MonoMart before showing up."

“I see,” Lancet mused. "That means the killer had to have gone to the MonoMart after the first trial but before Monobunny called for the meeting. Was anyone seen going towards there during that time?”

I took in a deep breath. “Yes. Someone did go to the MonoMart just after the first trial. I know it for a fact. It was...”




Who went into the MonoMart after the end of the first trial?



 



Doctor Lancet Scalpel



Yoko Zuna [DECEASED]



Pinkie Pie [DECEASED]



Sanscript



Dish Panner



Shetland Yard [DECEASED]



Button Mash



Cube Rick [DECEASED]



Dopple Ganger



Ink Slinger



Copper Fields



Mesmer



Antonio Rephael



Elsie De Pone



Maribelle Cheval-Gelding



Greyscale

> Trial Two - Part 10
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE!”



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“It was Yoko. He headed straight in after we climbed the stairs.”

"Wait, hang on!" Button cried. "You're telling me that Yoko set this whole thing up on himself?"

"No, no," Copper muttered, shaking her head. "That can't possibly be right. What would he even be thinking? Even if he'd wanted to take his own life, there's like a million other ways to do it. Not to mention, everything we've discussed so far points to it being perpetrated by a unicorn. Yoko wouldn't spread crowbars around the place just to make a mess. What would his plan even be? Or, what? Somehow, someone gets hold of everything from Yoko's room and then sets it up? That doesn't make any sense."

"I agree with Copper," Dopple cut in with. "Although we can say for certain that Yoko wasn't in the best frame of mind at that time, I highly doubt he has anything to do with any of this. There are far too many discrepancies for us to even consider that. He was too busy drinking himself into oblivion, as we know from when we had to drag him to Monobunny's meeting. It must have been perpetrated by someone else."

There was a collective murmur of annoyance and disappointment. The biggest clue into the identity of the killer had instead turned up as the victim. Even still, after all we’d uncovered, the identity of the killer was shrouded in mystery. It felt like we were back at square one.  

“Damn it!” Button cried, slamming his hoof down. “I really thought we had this!”

“It’s still information,” Lancet said. “We want to know every detail we can, even if it doesn’t seem important. That said, did nobody see anyone else?”

“Actually,” Elsie said meekly, shifting on her hooves. “I also visited the MonoMart before the meeting.”

“Elsie!” Reph cried. “S-so it was you!?”

“Wait, let me finish!” Elsie called back, fiddling with her glasses and clearing her throat. “I was with Dish Panner and Inky at the time.” 

“Yes, it’s true,” Dish Panner affirmed. “We did see Yoko, but by that point he was drowning himself in alcohol. Truth be told, we just wanted to avoid him.”

“Let’s clarify this,” Mesmer said. “Why did the three of you even go there?”

“If I’m honest,” Elsie replied, rubbing anxiously at her foreleg, “I was completely restless after the first trial. I tried forcing myself to sleep but it was of no use. I got up and just walked around, looking for something to do. I stepped out into the corridor and found Inky banging on Sanscript’s door, asking to be let inside for a cuddle or something.”

“I was just worried about him!” Inky protested. “He looked really shook up after what happened to Shetland, and I wanted to make him feel better!”

“Was that really all?” Sanscript asked, blushing a little. “I was in no condition for such things!”

“Yeah, well,” Inky said, folding her forelegs and pouting. “You didn’t seem to mind getting all snug with the Doctor, did you? Bet you just wanted to hear her use all those big scientific words like vas deferens.”

“That’s not what that was!” Sanscript exclaimed, getting redder. 

“Anyway,” Elsie continued, rolling her eyes. “Sanscript heard me outside and begged me to take Inky away. I convinced her to go to the MonoMart with me, just for something to do. I don’t know what I was thinking, really. My head was a mess. I supposed that getting something to eat and drink might calm my nerves. She eventually obliged, but I was also rather worried about just the two of us going after what had just happened. Not that I think Inky is the killing type, but then again, I thought the same about Shetland. So, I knocked on Dish Panner’s door and asked her if she wanted to come along.”

“That’s right,” Dish Panner said with a nod. “My reasons may have been a little different, I suppose. After what happened, even with the threat of murder…” She trailed off, licking her lips nervously. “I didn’t really like the thought of being alone. I wanted someone to talk to.”

“So we went to the MonoMart for treats and stuff,” Inky finished. 

“You were playing hard to get,” Elsie reprimanded. “Though that barely lasted a few hours, didn’t it?”

“Whatever,” Inky chirped, fluttering her eyelashes. “I happen to like the MonoMart, alright?”

“And?” Copper asked. “What next?”

“Like Elsie said, we saw Yoko,” Dish Panner replied. “We mostly ignored him and started looking at all the various products. Turns out food is an easy ice-breaker, and we grabbed a few things to take out to the benches between the store and the hotel. Mostly just snacks and drinks. We talked for a while, but mainly just sat in silence. If I’d known we would’ve had our lives on the line so soon after that, I might’ve thought to say a little more.”

“Anything else?” Mesmer asked.

“We saw Yoko walk past us,” Elsie said. “He was staggering, bleary-eyed and carried with him an assortment of liquor bottles. He didn’t seem to notice us as he went inside, just kept plodding along. Inky left at some point, to go harass ‘you know who,’ I’m guessing, and Dish Panner and I sat outside for a while longer, then decided to dispose of our waste in the kitchen and sit in the dining hall. It was barely a few minutes after we did that that Monobunny called for everyone’s attention.”

“Is that so?” Dopple asked, deep in thought. “I’m assuming you didn’t see anyone else go into the MonoMart while you were out there?”

“No,” Dish Panner replied. “We would’ve noticed something like that.”

“That settles it,” Dopple said. “The killer must have taken the supplies from the MonoMart before the three of you went there. Do you remember how long it was from the end of the first trial to when you reached the entrance?”

“Let me think,” Dish Panner said. “I went straight to my room after the trial and it was about ten thirty. When we were outside the MonoMart it was eleven, I think?”

“That sounds about right,” Elsie agreed. “It wasn’t that long before we left the hotel. Half an hour seems a decent estimate.”

“In that case,” Copper said, “that leaves less than half an hour for the killer to take what they needed.”

“Wouldn’t Yoko have noticed?” Button asked. “I mean, come on, someone waltzes out the door with crowbars, a big glass bottle, nails and stuff, and he doesn’t tell anyone about it?”

“He was incredibly drunk,” Mesmer said. “Even if he saw it, there’s a good chance he didn’t even remember it. And I'm not convinced he'd have done anything if he saw something suspicious. Considering his actions and his demeanor during the meeting, he didn't seem to care about what might happen to him."

"That isn't out of the ordinary," Lancet added sadly. "Self-destructive acts are often done irrationally, on sudden impulse."

“This is important information,” Maribelle said sternly. “We have now reached a point where the killer must have made their move during a certain period. So I ask of all the unicorns, do you have an alibi for this time?”

“Ah!” Sanscript exclaimed. “I do! Inky can vouch for me that she heard my voice coming from my room before this was happening.”

“Well, yeah,” Inky said, an eyebrow raised. “But I was still in my room for at least twenty minutes before I came to talk to you. Normally takes me a lot less time to reach the stars, but I was mad frazzled after the murder trial.”

Sanscript exhaled sharply. “Miss Slinger, it would help this trial immensely if you ignored such minor details! Hang on, wait... what?”

“I don’t have an alibi, I’m afraid,” Lancet said, hanging her head. “I did meet up with Sanscript, but that was almost an hour later.”

“Same for me,” Elsie admitted, sighing. “I ran into Inky only a few minutes before we left. I was just pacing about in my room, mostly.”

“And you?” Maribelle asked, looking to Mesmer. “What were you doing at the time?”

Mesmer narrowed his eyes and frowned. His gaze drifted around as he stood in silence. “Hmm. That’s a good question.” He exhaled and licked his lips. “Where was I? Where… was… I?”

“It’s a simple question!” Copper barked. 

“Yes, yes.” Mesmer nodded, still appearing wary of saying anything more. “I have an airtight alibi, of course. I just feel the need to word myself carefully given the situation.”

“Can you just spill it?” Elsie said, rolling her eyes. 

“Alright.” Mesmer cleared his throat. “I have given it some thought and have selected the appropriate response. There is someone who can personally vouch for my whereabouts for the entire time we are discussing. You see, after the end of the first trial I spent at least twenty minutes having sex with Dopple.”





























“W-w-w-w-w-w-w-what!?” Reph screamed.

“You can’t be serious!” Dish Panner blared. 

“It was an excellent session,” Mesmer added, nodding wistfully. “I made her orgasm three times.”

My entire chest felt numb. I almost fell over in shock.

“Mesmer!” Dopple shrieked, her entire face glowing like beetroot. “I honestly can’t believe you just said that!”

“I will pray for you,” Maribelle said, closing her eyes and whispering to herself.

“No! Everyone!” Dopple cried, baring her teeth with rage. “That’s not what happened at all! Mesmer and I have never done anything like that! What were you even thinking, telling them that!?”

Mesmer threw back his head and laughed thunderously, clutching at his chest as he did so and wiping away a tear. Everyone simply stared in silence, except for Inky, who began giggling nervously. “I have to say,” the stallion began, taking several deep breaths and doing his best to curb his laughter, “I surprised even myself with that one.” He sighed melodramatically. “It was just a joke.”

“You’ve crossed the line,” Dopple said, her cheeks flaring. “I am going to make you regret that.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Mesmer replied, finally calming himself. “In actual fact, my previous statement is completely untrue and I have no alibi for that timeframe.” He turned to me and flashed a devious smile, shaking his head ever so slightly. I imagined his sordid statement coming to life and clenched my jaw harder than I ever had. Right then and there, I wanted more than anything to see Mesmer writhe in agony, his bones being broken apart like rotting tree branches. 

“That’s not good enough!” Dish Panner roared. “What kind of sick creature are you to say that at a time like this!?”

“I have my reasons,” Mesmer replied. “Perhaps it will have saved us all.” He shrugged. “Or maybe the fact that this trial has been unsuccessful so far leads me to consider the possibility that I could die within the hour. If so, I’d like to make use of what time I have.”

The atmosphere changed in an instant. “H-he’s right,” Reph muttered. “We’re no closer to finding out who the killer is.”

“That’s not true,” Maribelle said. “We’ve narrowed it down just enough to give us some clue.”

“Yeah!” Button cheered. “We’re almost there, right? Time for the final push!”

The stage began to spin but all I could think about was Mesmer and Dopple and Mesmer and Dopple and Mesmer and Dopple and – Stop it! Stop it! Our lives are at stake! My blood was boiling. My head was on fire. My heart had gone into overdrive. At that point I remembered something that changed everything.




Truth Bullets



Monobunny File #2



Reph’s Account



Broken Lock



Threatening Sign



Fireplace Guard



Piece of Rope


Maribelle: Everything we’ve deduced so far points to one conclusion.

Copper: Setting off the nail bomb and escaping must have been done using magic. 

Button: Which means only a unicorn could have killed Yoko! You four can’t deny it!

Reph: B-but who amongst them?

Dish Panner: None of them have an alibi, so we can’t strike any of them off the suspect list.

Inky: What if one of them had another reason they couldn’t have done it? 

Sanscript: I said this before, if we’re to assume the line of thinking up until now, I surely wouldn’t have had enough time to go to the MonoMart!

Copper: Is there not a clue that points to one of them?

Dish Panner: We can’t just base it on their personality or who we think would be more likely to commit murder.

Button: What if the killer got help from someone? Like, they hid some of the evidence!

Reph: Th-that’s crazy! We all know the rules, and an accomplice wouldn’t get to go free along with the killer. 

Maribelle: What if someone did it unintentionally, not realizing they had helped cover up the killer’s tracks?

Copper: Do we have reason to disbelieve one of them?

Dish Panner: It feels like we’re getting nowhere.

Mesmer: I don’t want to have to point out the obvious all over again…

You’re right, Mesmer. It was obvious since the beginning. I can show them, make everyone realize the truth! 
> Trial Two - Part 11
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“NO, THAT’S WRONG!”



Monobunny File #2 <> only a unicorn could have killed Yoko!



< Argument Break >



 


“We’ve been going about this all wrong. We have no reason to believe that Yoko’s killer was definitely a unicorn!”

“Greyscale?” Inky remarked, looking surprised. “Didn’t we just go through all the stuff with grappling hooks and tentacles? You’re telling me an earth pony or pegasus coulda done all that?”

“No,” I replied. “A unicorn was absolutely involved in Yoko’s murder, that much is clear. The problem lies in the most crucial part of the trial – Yoko’s time of death.”

“His time of… death?” Maribelle said, her eyes growing wide as the realization slowly dawned on her. 

“That’s right. Yoko was hit with the blast of a nail bomb, which didn’t kill him. He then broke the lock on Reph’s door, resulting in one of his legs being amputated, which didn’t kill him. No… Yoko died after being stabbed in the throat with a knife, a fact made very clear in the Monobunny File. Meaning, while one of the four unicorns played a part in Yoko’s death, it’s possible that someone else was able to land the killing blow, making them the true killer.”

There was a series of gasps. “You’re kidding me!” Inky cried. “S-so, it could’ve been any of us!? We’re even further from finding the killer than when we started!?”

“That’s not entirely true,” Dopple said. “There’s someone here who we know for certain must be innocent.”

I nodded. “Reph.”

The stallion jumped at his name. “W-what!?”

“Even if we consider the line of thinking that Yoko chased after you because you attacked him, the fact that your door had to be pried open and cast a shower of splinters over the floor means you couldn’t have killed him. We know your door must have been closed before Yoko was stabbed, so you’re the only one of us who wouldn’t have even been able to reach him.” It also means we can trust his testimony, I said inwardly. 

“Oh.” Reph wiped at his forehead and breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m j-just glad it proves I’m not the killer!”

“No, no,” Button started. “He could’ve just stabbed Yoko, flown down the corridor, outside and back in through his window!”

“Impossible,” Maribelle said. “I was standing in the lobby at that time, trying to find the service bell. I would’ve noticed him coming through that way.” She paused and looked at me. “I assume this clears my name as well?”

“Not entirely,” I replied. “The existence of the sign on the door already proves his innocence in that regard.” My mouth was speaking as fast as my mind could turn. I could barely catch my breath as the explanations spilled out of me. I felt solid. Focused. “Even if he wasn’t spooked by what it said, he would’ve had to carefully peel the sign away and carefully close the door. Considering he wouldn’t have had anything to do with it, I can’t see that happening.”

“I see,” Maribelle replied. Her gaze dropped. She blushed guiltily. “I must apologize for being so adamant that the killer was a unicorn. To think, it may have cost us our lives.”

“It’s okay,” I said, doing my best to smile. The problem was, a new thought had emerged that I couldn’t bear to keep to myself. “The scary part is, if the killer and the unicorn who set up the nail bomb are not one and the same, it means even if we make the right choice and only the killer gets punished…” I bit my lip. “Then we’d have no choice but to return to the dome with a would-be killer.”

Instead of gasps, there was only silence among the group. I considered that if anyone except Yoko had been the first to enter the rec room this morning – myself included – they would’ve been decimated, slaughtered by the shards of metal ripping through their flesh. Only someone of such gargantuan proportions and incredible body mass could’ve survived such an attack. And if his killer was someone other than the unicorn who orchestrated such a terrible deed, it would mean by sheer chance, they had lost their opportunity to be executed. A murderer in every way, but free from punishment. 

Beyond that, Yoko’s murder still posed too many questions, tiny details and coincidences that didn’t add up neatly next to our present deductions. We couldn’t rely on alibis or a lack thereof to find the killer. My blood ran cold as the thought of perishing flashed before my eyes, the ground opening up and swallowing me whole. My heart thudded like a drum, a maelstrom of panic and fury pulsing through my veins. Think! Think! Think!

“I just thought of something,” Reph said, tentatively raising a hoof. “It’s probably nothing, b-but what Greyscale just said has got me thinking.”

“What is it?” Lancet asked. 

“Okay, well, if the someone who took the knife is different from the someone who took all the tools for the nail bomb, wouldn’t they have needed to go into the MonoMart, and to the exact same section, in the same short timeframe?” 

“I guess so,” Inky said. “What’s your point?”

Reph furrowed his brow. “I don’t know for sure, but doesn’t that seem extremely unlikely? They could’ve run into each other, and it w-would’ve given it all away. It must’ve taken a while to gather everything for the nail bomb, so doesn’t it seem like a massive coincidence that neither of them would see each other?”

“It must not have happened,” Dish Panner answered. “If they did see each other, it’s not like they’d let each other be on their merry way. At least one of them would’ve spoken up by now, so we have to assume they didn’t run into each other.” She sighed. “Anyway, there were no other chances anyone had to take something from the MonoMart before that, right? During the first trial we proved that it would’ve been impossible for anyone to have gotten hold of a knife on our first day. Shetland had to resort to using a razor blade that fit inside his shirt pocket, after all. Inky was the only one in the MonoMart the next morning, and she definitely hadn’t taken a knife from there. Once Inky was found we all stayed together while the rooms were being searched, and everyone was accounted for while the investigation took place. Not that any of this helps us.”

“R-right,” Reph said, chuckling nervously. “Forget I said anything.”

I felt fire ripple across my chest. My brain alighted, sending shockwaves down my spine. My vision blurred and I gasped for air, suddenly realizing I’d been holding my breath. I thought it all over, thought it over again, assessed, reassessed, and drew the same conclusion. The answer had been staring me in the face all along. “I know how it happened,” I muttered, craning my neck to the skies. “I know who the killer is!” I cried, my chest rising and falling like bellows at the hands of a crazed monkey. 

There were some responses, but I ignored them. I had no need to listen. I had discovered the answer – the truth, and now I had to follow through, no matter how much pain may come. My purpose in life had returned to me. I couldn’t turn my back on it! This was my time!

 


Who killed Yoko Zuna?



 



Doctor Lancet Scalpel



Yoko Zuna [DECEASED]



Pinkie Pie [DECEASED]



Sanscript



Dish Panner



Shetland Yard [DECEASED]



Button Mash



Cube Rick [DECEASED]



Dopple Ganger



Ink Slinger



Copper Fields



Mesmer



Antonio Rephael



Elsie De Pone



Maribelle Cheval-Gelding



Greyscale



.



Who was responsible for the nail bomb attack?



 



Doctor Lancet Scalpel



Yoko Zuna [DECEASED]



Pinkie Pie [DECEASED]



Sanscript



Dish Panner



Shetland Yard [DECEASED]



Button Mash



Cube Rick [DECEASED]



Dopple Ganger



Ink Slinger



Copper Fields



Mesmer



Antonio Rephael



Elsie De Pone



Maribelle Cheval-Gelding



Greyscale

> Trial Two - Part 12
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE!”



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“Elsie. It was you, wasn’t it?”

There was an uproar of gasps. 

“What!?” the mare screamed, staring daggers into my eyes. “You must be joking! I had nothing to do with it!”

“Cut the crap!” I shot back. “You’re the one who killed Yoko!”

“Based on what!?” Elsie sneered. “You have absolutely nothing on me.” She smiled sadistically. “Ladies and gentlecolts, this is what happens when someone gets too confident for their own good. It goes to their head.”

“Greyscale, what’s going on?” Dish Panner asked nervously, her eyes large and trembling. “How could you even arrive at that conclusion?”

“You’ll have to trust me on this,” I replied. “There’s no other way it could’ve happened.”

“Oh, is that so?” Elsie said pompously. “And who do you suppose set up that nail bomb?”

I gritted my teeth. Despite my accusation, Elsie was somehow even more self-assured and assertive than before. But I had to stick to my guns. “That was your doing, too. You were responsible for Yoko’s death by all accounts!”

“Is this true!?” Lancet cried.

Elsie sighed and uttered a deep groan. “Of course it isn’t true. At what point have I been implicated?” She straightened up and snorted. “I’ll give you one chance. Just let everyone know you had it wrong or you were joking around, and you can avoid being embarrassed in front of everyone.”

“Well,” Button said, squirming. “He did guess right the last time.”

“So!? Is that supposed to mean something!?” Elsie pushed her glasses back into place and proceeded in a more reserved manner. “As I said, I’m innocent, and as I’m sure you’ll all agree, it is innocent until proven guilty. Or are rash accusations now acceptable?”

Come on, I thought, doing everything I could to prevent a smile from creeping onto my face. I want you to do it. I want you to twist and turn and bury yourself deeper. I want you to spend every ounce of energy trying to deny what should have been obvious from the very beginning. I couldn’t just come out and explain it all. My senses were twofold. My nerves tingled and my heart leapt continuously. I would prove my worth, show Mesmer and the others just how great I could be. But also, I would savor every last drop of triumph. I was not about to spill the beans and sink my own ship. I wanted… needed it to be perfect. Shetland’s transgression was a practice run. This time, I was ready and waiting. “Do you have any other suggestions?” I asked goadingly. “From where I stand, you had the best opportunity out of any of us to commit murder.”

“Greyscale,” Sanscript said reverently, seeming to hold back a piece of himself as he spoke. “You’re being rather vague. I’m not saying I disbelieve you, but you’re not being very pragmatic.”

“It’s fine,” Mesmer cut in with. “There are more weapons at a detective’s disposal than just facts and logic. Perhaps Greyscale is exercising a more psychological approach.” He grinned. “Or maybe he’s just an inherently bad detective.”

“Not this again,” Copper sighed, covering her eyes. “Grey, I thought I told you to ignore this creep.”

“Excuse me!” Elsie cried. “I’m being accused of murder and you’re acting as if that’s ordinary. Look into my eyes and tell me I set off a nail bomb and stabbed Yoko to death. I have no memory of such acts!”

I ignored her. My battle against Elsie was just window dressing. The centerpiece was my feud against Mesmer. “Tell me,” I said. “Had you figured it out before the trial started?”

“I’ll tell you once this trial is over,” Mesmer replied. “You still have a job to do.”

“Oh my!” Reph let out, clutching at his chest. “You mean to s-say you expect it to be over soon? M-meaning Greyscale is right!?”

“This is pathetic,” Elsie said, rolling her eyes. “First of all, let me get this straight: Greyscale, you’re accusing me of both Yoko’s murder and the nail bomb incident. Not one, but both. Didn’t you just argue that it was likely to have been two separate ponies that were responsible?”

“I didn’t say it was likely,” I replied. “I said it was possible.”

“S-so you agree with me?” Reph said, smiling a little. “If two of them went there after the first trial, they would’ve run into each other! The chance was t-too high!” 

“That’s my other problem!” Elsie barked, pointing a hoof at me. “Why were you so insistent on that being the only time anyone could’ve taken stuff from the MonoMart?”

“But it is,” Sanscript said. “Isn’t it? I thought we had eliminated all other potential opportunities. It couldn’t have been before the trial, of course, as we were able to deduce that even Shetland didn’t acquire anything from there.”

“No, that’s wrong,” Elsie said sternly. “Now, even if we’re to assume that I was the unicorn who set off the nail bomb – which I wasn’t! – someone could very well have taken the knife from the MonoMart before we even found Pinkie’s body. Greyscale, perhaps you know who I’m talking about? Someone who would’ve been very good at concealing such an item? Someone who, even during a building-wide search, would’ve had good reason to believe they could’ve gotten away with it?”

I exhaled deeply. She wouldn’t have done that, was what I wanted to say, but then I reached reflexively for my neck. “You’re talking about Copper.”

“So you do know!” Elsie blared, stomping in front of her, the sound echoing throughout the hall. “But I bet you were thinking, ‘oh, she would never do that’, right?”

I flinched. “Well…”

“Just because you fancy the hooves off of her, you blind yourself to the possibility that she could be the killer, even when you know for a fact that she had more opportunity than anyone! Truly a dismal stallion, you are.”

“Now wait a second!” Copper cried. “What are you even talking about?”

“Don’t listen to her,” I said. “I don’t… I mean, I know you’re not the killer, Copper.”

“I know you do, because…” Copper looked away, blushing. “Greyscale came into my room the other day, alright?”

“Alright!” Inky cried in celebration. “About time someone got some action!”

“It wasn’t like that!” Copper snapped, glowing even redder. “He suspected me of something and so, searched my room from top to bottom. He didn’t find anything.” She looked up at me expectantly. “Right, Grey?”

I had a choice. I could either affirm Copper’s position to throw Elsie from her podium, to which nobody could disprove, or I could follow the path of truth and rely on logic to win the day. I gulped, realizing what I had to do. “Copper, I’m sorry, but we both know that time I searched your room doesn’t count. I wasn’t anywhere near thorough, meaning you had the perfect opportunity to move the knife somewhere I wouldn’t be able to find. And besides, you practically goaded me into searching your room, meaning you could’ve been well prepared.”

Copper’s face fell. Despite showing no tears I could feel as though she was crying on the inside. She didn’t respond, merely staring back with a mixture of guilt and disbelief.

“Excellent!” Elsie chimed. “I can admire your honesty. Perhaps now you’ll all take my accusation a little more seriously and we can get to the bottom of this.”

But I knew Copper wasn’t the killer. Everything pointed to Elsie. Everything! But if I was to prove my point, I would have to disperse the suspicion now cast on my friend. I would have to stand and fight!




Truth Bullets



Monobunny File #2



Trail of Blood



Fireplace Guard



Broken Window



Crowbars


Elsie: Did everyone forget what happened during the search for Pinkie Pie?

Lancet: What are you getting at? 

Elsie: We thought maybe Copper was involved in Pinkie’s murder, and yet she was proven innocent. But she left the group and entered the MonoMart! Isn’t that suspicious?

Maribelle: She told us she was getting something to drink.

Inky: You’re saying she got a knife instead?

Elsie: We all dismissed her actions since she wasn’t Pinkie’s killer, but at the time, she would’ve had no idea that Pinkie was already dead. Thus, she could’ve taken the knife, flown back in through her window and hidden it before rejoining the group!

Copper: I never did that!

Dish Panner: I did think it was odd that you headed out for a drink in the middle of a crisis. 

Elsie: And as you might expect from the Ultimate Illusionist, she would’ve been able to conceal the knife with ease. My, what big wings you have!

Copper: What part of your accusation is based in fact!?

Button: Didn’t Greyscale just say he was invited into Copper’s room? That he was let inside without a fuss?

Copper: That’s true…

Button: And that he didn’t properly search it!? Almost sounds like you wanted to use that to prove your innocence!

Reph: But can she really have done that?

Sanscript: Are you saying she waited around for a chance to use the knife?

Elsie: It makes sense, doesn’t it? You hear a big bang and suddenly there’s a half-dead pony in reach, unable to defend himself, with someone else’s murder attempt to take the attention away. It was the perfect opportunity to sneak in and kill while she had the chance!

Lancet: Is there not a chance Copper couldn’t have been there at the time?

Copper: I didn’t do it, okay!? Grey, you’ve got to talk some sense into them!

Wait a second, something was said that proves this whole theory can be blown apart. I can’t let Elsie take control of this debate!
> Trial Two - Part 13
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“NO, THAT’S WRONG!”



Copper’s room? <> flown back in through her window



< Argument Break >



 


“You seem to have made a grave error,” I said. “It’s true that if Copper had something she wanted to keep hidden, my search of her room wouldn’t have been sufficient. But still, what you’re suggesting is not only ridiculous, but impossible.”

Elsie’s left eye twitched. I could almost see her mask beginning to unfurl. “Oh? What do you mean?”

“What I mean, is that Copper couldn’t possibly have flown in through her window. Specifically, because she doesn’t have a window in the first place! It’s the same for you too, isn’t it, Dopple?”

“That’s right,” Dopple responded. “I have always thought it strange that the hotel would be designed in such a way, but then it’s not worth thinking about.”

“Whatever the reason,” I continued, “even if Copper could have retrieved a knife from the MonoMart during the search for Pinkie, she wouldn’t have been able to hide it anywhere. The only other window she might’ve had access to would be the swimming pool, but we know Lancet closed it before Copper could’ve even gotten there.

“Then there are the two other most likely places Copper might’ve thought to hide a knife – either concealed within one of her wings, or on the roof. Either way, she couldn’t have done either, since during the investigation she flew up to the roof along with Dopple, Shetland and Reph. Even if she’d thought to hide it on the rear-side of the hotel – a terrible hiding spot, mind you – it would’ve likely been seen by one of the other pegasi while they were flying around, especially since they were actively looking for clues at the time.” I glowered, staring into Elsie’s eyes with apparent spitefulness. “So tell me, Elsie, just where are you getting this idea that Copper is somehow the killer?”

In that moment, a sudden fear gripped me as I relayed what I'd just said. There was one possible location I hadn't spoken of. One potential port of entry for a would-be murder weapon. There was a chance Elsie would mention it...

The unicorn snorted angrily, readjusting her glasses. “Okay, I’ll admit that that was just a wild theory.”

“Stupid, more like,” Inky said jovially. “Even I know the two double-p’s have their rooms slap bang in the middle of the floor.”

“Double… peas?” Maribelle repeated in confusion.

“You know, not the vegetable, the letter. Double p’s for Dopple and Copper.” Inky shrugged. “That’s just what I call ‘em in my head.”

The location had gone unmentioned. I breathed a mental sigh of relief. 

“Grey,” Copper muttered, looking to me yearnfully. “Thank you. I worried for a moment there, when you made it seem like I was suspicious, but I should’ve realized.” She smiled, emitting a light chuckle. “I should’ve had more faith in you.”

I smiled back. Nobody had mentioned the one place that could've given Copper the potential to smuggle in the murder weapon, a place that I, being an earth pony, had yet to see with my own eyes. 

The chimney. 

I had no way of knowing if it were possible to throw a knife down through it and into the fireplace. If so, it could be retrieved without anyone knowing. Maybe the slot was too small. Maybe it was covered with a metal grate. Maybe there wasn't actually a chimney at all, and the smoke from the fireplace was dealt with through a ventilation system. This would make sense considering the dome's enclosed environment. But I had no way of knowing for sure. Elsie hadn't brought it up as a possibility, which could've been because she was aware that such a plan were not possible, and any such theory would be quickly stamped out by Dopple and Reph. Or maybe the thought just hadn't crossed her mind.

I was tempted to bring it up out of sheer curiosity, but there was a chance Elsie could use it to steer the trial in a direction I didn't want it to go. I knew that my reasoning was sound. The possibility of the chimney being used to hide weaponry didn't contradict my deductions. There was yet more evidence I could use to prove Elsie's guilt. But still, I had to wonder...

“I’m confused,” Reph groaned, scratching his head. “Does this mean Elsie’s the killer or not?”

“If she is,” Dish Panner muttered, staring pensively into the floor, “then she’s a monster. Getting torn to shreds by a nail bomb? Having a leg amputated then stabbed to death? What a horrible way to die.”

“I disagree.”

Dish Panner reeled back in shock. She wasn’t the only one. “What!?”

“What I mean is,” Dopple said, “that whomever the killer is, they’re not the monster. They’re just a desperate fool who wants their life back. The real monster…” Dopple looked upwards at Monobunny. “…is whomever devised this game in the first place. They’re our real enemy here.”

Monobunny waved back playfully. “No use getting angry at me, dear. Everyone’s attention should be focused on the identity of the killer! If you want to stay alive, that is.”

“Yes.” Lancet nodded. “And although I feel Greyscale has shown his worth in deducing the killer correctly before, I’m still not ready to take his word for it.”

“Rightly so!” Elsie exclaimed. “Just because I was wrong about Copper doesn’t suddenly prove that I’m guilty. This whole case has been vague from the start, and I don’t know how anyone could claim to know for sure how Yoko was killed. Even Reph doesn’t know and it happened right outside his door! Greyscale also admits he can’t claim innocence on Dopple’s and Scalpel’s part, let alone anyone else in the hotel!” Elsie sneered mischievously. “In fact, can anyone say for sure that Greyscale himself isn’t the killer? Dopple, Doctor Scalpel, can you say for sure that Greyscale couldn’t possibly have been around to stab Yoko to death?”

“I don’t think he could,” Lancet replied, “but I can’t say for absolute certain. I met him in the corridor about a minute or so after the explosion, and we knocked on Dopple’s door just after that.” She paused for a moment, seeming to carefully weigh her words before continuing. “I suppose in that case, while I don’t have a particular reason to believe Greyscale is the killer, since it’s perfectly understandable that he would be searching for the source of the noise, I'm not sure if I can say with one hundred percent confidence that he is innocent.”

“Wait!” Copper cried. “You almost make it sound convincing that Grey was the killer, but there’s no way he is!”

“No, it’s fine,” I said. “Lancet spoke the truth, and that’s how it should be. Because in the end, the truth will win out.”

“And what truth is that?” Elsie asked, rolling her eyes. “That you convince others into believing you by spouting one-liners that sound meaningful? And all this for a theory that’s held up by strings. No, even less than that, by sheer accusation!? We have no clue who could’ve killed Yoko. Anyone could have done it!”

I know what you’re doing, I thought, letting Elsie continue her incensed tirade. But you’re only succeeding in pulling yourself deeper into the pit. These are nothing but your death throes. “What do you mean, anyone?”

“Just like I said.” Elsie took a deep breath and readied herself. “With the exception of Reph, we’re all equal suspects. How is that so difficult to understand?”

“Explain.”

“Fine then! I will!”

As the stage began to spin another though occurred to me: Elsie was doing everything she could to deny her guilt, even though it was unnecessary. I hadn’t even expressed my reasons for believing her to be the killer, so staying quiet and allowing me to make the first move would be preferable, since I hadn’t stated my theory. Instead, she was throwing accusations around at anyone she could, clinging onto the tiniest shred of possibility, even mistakenly asserting that Copper could’ve flown in through her window. As much as I could chalk it up to panicking, that just didn’t seem right – not for Elsie. She should’ve just demanded to hear my explanation. As much as I felt some enjoyment in watching her buckle under pressure, it was almost too easy. A shiver ran up my spine, as if I were missing something important that I couldn’t quite grasp. 

I shook my head and focused. There was work to be done.

 


Truth Bullets



Fireplace Guard



Reph’s Account



Monobunny File #2



Piece of Rope



MonoMart Stock Check


Elsie: May I pose it to everyone, just how am I implicated in this trial!? So far, the only innocent one here is Reph!

Copper: But I thought I was cleared of guilt?

Elsie: That’s not true. Just because you couldn’t have taken the knife before the first trial doesn’t mean you couldn’t have done so after it!

Dish Panner: I did think it was odd that Elsie invited me to the MonoMart not long after the trial. Almost like she was creating an alibi for herself.

Inky: You think she was up to something while we were there?

Elsie: Let’s all think about how the murder actually happened. There wasn’t any evidence to suggest I was there!

Sanscript: Unless you managed to destroy it somehow…

Maribelle: As confident as Greyscale seems, the way I see it, there’s no link between the nail bomb and stabbing incident.

Elsie: Of course there isn’t! Anyone could’ve run up and stabbed Yoko in that state! It’s everyone’s word against everyone else’s!

Lancet: Can we be sure we haven’t missed something? 

Button: The killer had to have been on the same floor, right? 

Lancet: Are we sure Yoko died when he reached Reph’s door, not before?

Sanscript: Greyscale, you really should speak up and explain what you mean.

Elsie: He’s not going to. Greyscale, just admit you were wrong and that we have no clue who killed Yoko. You can still do the right thing.

Copper: Elsie?

Elsie: …

Copper: What’s wrong?

Elsie: Nothing’s wrong. Greyscale?

Dopple: …

Mesmer: Elsie, you…

Elsie: Please. Stop this. It’s not too late to save everyone.

What’s wrong with her? Why is she saying all this? What’s with that look? Whatever, I should just ignore it. I need to bring the truth to light! I need to prove myself!
> Trial Two - Part 14
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“NO, THAT’S WRONG!”



Reph’s Account <> Anyone could’ve run up and stabbed Yoko



< Argument Break >



 


“You probably didn’t realize that argument was covered too,” I said sternly. “After all, it was only from someone’s word, but since we know he’s innocent, perhaps we can take his testimony a lot more seriously.”

Elsie’s cheeks flared. “What are you talking about?”

“Reph, you made yourself extremely clear when I asked you about the ordeal. Shall I let everyone know what you said?”




“No, now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure it w-was only one. The steps were rather slow, so I don’t think it could have been two. I was listening r-really carefully, you know, and my d-door had a hole knocked into it by that point. If something else was g-going on in the hallway, I would’ve heard it.”



 


“If we’re to assume that someone else ran up and stabbed Yoko, we have to assume that Reph was either lying, or got himself confused. Reph, if you’d like to reiterate your point?”

“W-well, yes,” the stallion said wearily. “I didn’t get to s-see what was happening outside, but I know f-for sure that I would’ve known if someone else came ch-charging along the corridor. I have pretty good hearing, you know.”

“What are you talking about!?” Elsie cried, looking exasperated. “We’re meant to trust such an odd statement!? Why weren’t you looking outside with such a ruckus!?”

“I don’t know,” Reph replied. “I j-just stood there in shock, I suppose.”

“It still changes nothing,” Elsie harrumphed. “Okay, so if nobody ran up, someone could’ve flown up.”

“I don’t think so,” Copper said. “I know it might seem obvious for a pegasus like myself to say such a thing, but this goes for Reph and Dopple too. Those corridors are pretty narrow for flying in, even if you sprinted and dived into flight you wouldn’t be in the best position. And, what, one of us flew up to Yoko, stabbed him a few times, then dropkicked off of him so we could fly off again?”

“It’s not impossible!” Elsie shrieked. 

“But why would anyone do that?” Copper continued. “Let’s say, hypothetically, that I was about to commit a murder right outside Reph’s door. What would be my biggest worry? That he might hear my hoof-steps and give me away after a long and laborious trial filled with uncertainty, or that he might be staring out of his peephole? Regardless of the fact he wasn’t doing that, it would be a hell of a risk, especially if Yoko was seen banging on Reph’s door.”

“Not to mention,” Lancet said, “being stabbed in the jugular multiple times would produce quite the shower of blood. If Copper had committed the stabbing, it's likely that some of the blood splatter would've been left on her.”

“And!?” Elsie raged. “Showers exist, you know!”

“Then she would’ve been soaking wet,” Lancet countered. 

“Towels exist!” 

Lancet frowned. “That scenario still seems unlikely. She would’ve had less than three minutes to completely wash the blood from her coat, and dry herself off.”

“Also, there would’ve been other signs,” I cut in with. “To get back into her room Copper would’ve either needed to land on her hooves – which would’ve left bloodstains on the carpet – or flapped her wings to remain hovering in the air while reaching for her keycard, which would’ve also splattered blood on the carpet. Yet the only bloodstains we found were the ones leading from the rec room to Yoko’s body. How do you explain that?”

“She’s an illusionist!” Elsie fumed. “Who knows what special techniques she has in her bag of tricks!?”

“That’s a lot of ‘what ifs’ in your theory,” I replied. “If only you had some proof to back it up.” Not that it matters, I mused. The key to Copper’s innocence – and your guilt, Elsie – is proven by the knife itself. The question is, have you figured out why?

“So, a unicorn, then?” Maribelle spoke up. “If they had the knife, they wouldn’t have needed to get close to Yoko in order to stab him. They could have done it from the other side of the corridor, if need be.”

“Where Elsie’s room is,” Dish Panner said, staring off into space as if coming to a sudden realization. 

“That’s not proof!” Elsie cried. “There’s nothing to stop any of the other unicorns from doing the same thing! You really expect Reph to have heard someone creeping up the stairs or from the other side of the hotel?”

“I still don’t understand,” Lancet said. “I comprehend the reasoning that the killer would also be a unicorn, but what is there to suggest that it was the same unicorn who set off the nail bomb? It seems like quite the leap in logic.”

“There’s a lot that doesn’t make sense,” Sanscript muttered, sighing. “To begin with, if the piece of rope we found led us to believe a makeshift grappling hook was used in order to peer in through the window, why was the rope then found inside the recreation room? Whomever used it wouldn’t have been able to feed the rope through the window while they were still hanging on or they would’ve fallen right off and injured themselves. And if they’d climbed to the ground before feeding the rope through, they wouldn’t have been able to look through the window in order to carefully guide it into the fire. Yet still, that’s where the rope ended up.”

“Hiding the evidence, I guess,” Inky said with a shrug. “The best way to get rid of rope is to burn it up, right? But then why was a piece left hanging over? I guess they were rushing?”

“It still confuses me,” Dish Panner said. “Why would the bomber go back to the scene of the crime? That explosion was so loud everyone heard it, so it’s not difficult to believe someone might already be there to investigate. Even if the unicorn in question was a decent distance away, why risk going out with a coil of rope and a knife if someone could’ve been there? Wouldn’t the best solution have been to put it somewhere else? We found the service bell on the roof, didn’t we? I don’t think any of the unicorns here would be stupid enough to make that mistake, especially after such a complex murder attempt.”

“Oh, I know!” Button exclaimed, hopping excitedly. “What they should’ve done was cut open their mattress and hide the rope and the knife inside. Even if everyone’s room was searched, who would’ve even thought about that?”

“That’s actually very clever,” Dopple remarked.

“Yeah, I know,” Button said smugly, puffing out his chest.

“But even if it makes sense,” Dopple added, “we can’t say for certain the killer would’ve tried that, especially since we found nothing of the sort.”

“That’s exactly right,” Elsie said coolly. “And better yet, I have a more pressing question. Why are we assuming that the unicorn responsible for the nail bomb even had a knife?” She looked back and forth between Mesmer and I, her eyes fierce and resolute. “What we have here is a case where we have no evidence as to the identity of the killer, no evidence as to the identity of the bomber, and no way to say definitively whether they were one and the same, or two completely different attackers! So why am I getting singled out, all of a sudden? Greyscale!?”

“Yeah?” I replied, my stomach trembling. It was an inexplicable, eerie feeling, one that flared whenever I locked eyes with Elsie. This wasn’t terror at gazing at a merciless killer. In fact, it felt as if I was the one to be scared of. Well, that makes sense, I decided. I’m the one who’s going to prove she was the killer and get her executed, and she knows it. 

Elsie took a long, deep breath, and spoke softly and deliberately. “I want you to think very carefully about this. You don’t want anyone else to suffer, right? You don’t want any more unnecessary death, right? If you continue on like this, that’s what’s going to happen. Stop asserting this silly theory, and we’ll all go over the case from the beginning.” Elsie’s jaw clenched, and a tear came to her eye. “Because we don’t have any evidence for who the killer is, right?”

The stage was silent, as if time had stopped and wouldn’t start again until I had made my decision. I closed my eyes, listening to nothing but the faint hum of the magical forcefields and my own breathing. “Hmph.”

“Greyscale?” Elsie said, her jaw loosening as the truth dawned on her.

“You really thought you could fool me with puppy dog eyes? Nice try, but I’m not falling for it.”

Elsie stared back in horror, the color draining from her face. “You’re making a huge mistake.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “In fact, I’m more convinced than ever that I made the right call. I’ll say it again: Elsie is the killer.”

Elsie scrunched up her face, a single tear hitting the floor. She took a series of sharp breaths before rising again, crazed and vengeful. “You’re wrong! You don’t get it do–”

“Let’s discuss that point again,” I interrupted with. At this stage I knew my prey was helpless, merely thrashing about as they circled the drain. “You said there’s no way to know if the two perpetrators are one and the same. What if there was? I think that should be our next point of discussion.”

“Right,” Dish Panner said weakly. I could understand why she was so forlorn, especially since she was one of the few who had gotten on well with Elsie. But I could sense she wasn’t about to let emotions get the best of her and deny my claim. “Let’s do that.”

“It’s pointless!” Elsie screamed. 

The end was drawing near. I looked across the stage at Mesmer, expecting a knowing smirk or look of approval. Instead, he was looking at Elsie. Not with fury or disdain, but with worry. Why? I asked myself. The logic checks out. You should know just as well as I do that she’s the killer! You didn’t give a damn when Shetland was about to be killed, so why now? What am I missing here?

 


Truth Bullets



Crowbars



Threatening Sign



Service Bell



Fireplace Guard



MonoMart Stock Check


Lancet: If the two attackers are one and the same, it means whoever set off the nail bomb must have had the knife.

Elsie: Anyone could’ve taken the knife! 

Maribelle: The question is, what would they have even needed the knife for?

Inky: Maybe it was a backup plan in case the bomb didn’t work. I mean, it sure looks like it came in handy. Givin’ Yoko the old one-two!

Button: I still think they needed it to hide some of the evidence. I’m telling ya, hiding it in the mattress would’ve been perfect!

Dish Panner: I’m wondering if we missed something about the nail bomb. Maybe they needed a knife for that plan to work?

Lancet: It’s a long shot, but what if they kept the knife in case anyone came near? They decided to burn the rope and would’ve needed to make sure there were no witnesses. 

Reph: They must have p-planned to use it since the beginning, right after the first trial.

Maribelle: What if the knife wasn’t supposed to be for the murder attempt at all? What if it served an entirely different purpose, but was used once the killer realized that Yoko was still alive?

Copper: The knife can’t have just been an accident. What would be the point in incriminating themselves further?

Elsie: Can’t you see this is all just hypothetical!? There. Is. No. Proof!

The use of the knife is key to proving who the killer is. I just need to show that to everyone!
> Trial Two - Part 15
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


“I AGREE WITH THAT!”



Crowbars <> needed it to hide some of the evidence



< Argument Break >



 


“Button’s right,” I said. “The killer needed the knife to get rid of evidence.”

“I knew it!” Button cheered, pumping his hoof. “I was right, wasn’t I? The killer wanted to hide the stuff in their mattress, but they freaked out ‘cause Yoko was still alive!”

“Preposterous!” Elsie cried. “How can you even pretend to know that!?”

“She’s right,” Maribelle said, frowning. “Even if that plan does make sense, we mustn’t assume it to be true if we don’t have more evidence.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” I continued. “We know that a knife was used because of the crowbars.”

“The crowbars?” Lancet said blankly. “But how?”

“Simple. If the crowbars were used along with the rope to make a grappling hook, then at some point after being used, they were separated. When we found the crowbars outside the hotel, each of them had one distinct feature – they all had traces of glue, and more importantly, rope fibers.”

“I see,” Lancet replied. “The killer used the knife to cut away the rope. If the grappling hook was found in its finished state, figuring out the murder would’ve been made significantly easier, and it would’ve been much more difficult to hide. By keeping the crowbars and rope separate, the killer probably wanted to keep us off the right track.”

“Wait a minute!” Elsie barked, her breathing becoming wavered. “Who says anyone needed a knife to do that!? Did we all forget how Shetland hid a razor blade in his pocket and used that to cut the cord on Pinkie’s keycard? Why would anyone use a knife instead!?”

“Easy,” I answered. “It wouldn’t have worked.”

“And how do you know that!?”

“I have Mesmer to thank for that one,” I said, looking over at the stoic unicorn stallion. “Before the trial started he was messing around with a coil of rope and a razor blade, trying desperately to cut through it without much luck. He told me he was wondering what kind of effect the blades would have on equine flesh.” I shrugged bashfully. “I suppose I should’ve realized you were lying. I bet you gave it some thought right after we found out about the rope in the fireplace.”

“Guilty as charged,” Mesmer replied. “Though I’ll admit I wasn’t sure how the murder took place at the time. I was just covering what I thought was a possibility.”

“I’m grateful,” I replied. “With the possibility of razor blades out of the picture, what else is there to consider? Shears might have made for a worthwhile cutting tool if we were only dealing with a simple cut on a straight piece of rope, but they would've been a poor implement to tackle the knotted up mess of a makeshift grappling hook, especially within such a short timeframe. And so, we can say with a good level of certainty that the serrated blade of a combat knife would’ve been the perfect tool to cut the crowbars free from their entanglement.”

“That’s all well and good,” Dish Panner said, “but have you considered that someone else may have also taken a knife?”

“Is that really a concern?” Sanscript said. “Every other piece of this case has come together to prove thus, and we no longer have good reason to consider a second perpetrator.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “We can say for a fact that the same knife was used in both cases.”

“How?” Reph asked. “S-some glue left on the knife?”

“Actually, I have Monobunny to thank for this one.”

“Uh-wah!? You do?”

“Yes. Does anyone remember what he said earlier in the trial?”




“As it happens, the MonoMonoMart does indeed stock eight of each type of knife!”



“The MonoMonoMart is the only place someone could acquire such weaponry.”



 


“Now, does anyone remember what the number of combat knives were on the stock take?”

“Seven,” Copper said, excitement growing in her voice. “There were seven, which means the knife the killer used had to have been the missing one that was taken after the first trial!”

“There you have it,” I said, suppressing a prideful smile. “This proves that not only was Yoko attacked twice by the same equine, but that the killer must have been a unicorn.”

“So why me!?” Elsie shrieked, tears streaming down her face. “You could’ve accused any one of us, so what makes you think I’m the killer!?”

“I think I…” Dish Panner trailed off, her eyes drifting to meet Elsie’s with newfound rage. “I get it now. Your room is at the complete opposite end of the corridor from the rec room. You must’ve heard Yoko thrashing about and knocking down Reph’s door, and all you had to do was look through your peephole and you would’ve seen him! That’s why you used the knife! That’s why Reph didn’t hear anyone else, because if you opened your door you would’ve had the perfect line of sight to shoot right for his jugular!” Dish Panner scrunched up her face, absolutely seething. “It really was you, wasn’t it!? How could you!? You selfish bitch! You really do think your life is more important than anyone else’s, don’t you!?”

“Dish Panner, please,” Elsie begged, sobbing into her hooves, her glasses falling from her muzzle and falling limply to the floor. She made no effort to pick them up. “I swear to you, I’m not like that!”

“She got desperate,” I said, parroting the same line Mesmer had used when we convicted Shetland. “She wanted her old life back. Right?”

Rather than answering in the affirmative, Mesmer shrunk back a little, avoiding my gaze for just a second. Then he nodded.

Another chill was sent down my spine. Just what is wrong this time? I solved it, didn’t I? Why are you acting so strangely, as if Elsie was somehow killing out of kindness? She did nothing of the sort!

“So that’s it, then?” Maribelle said weakly. “Elsie was the killer all along.” She sighed. “My dear, I’m not sure I can forgive your actions, but still, I shall pray for you. May your soul find peace.”

“We’re all voting for Elsie, right?” Inky asked. “I don’t even know what to think any more. I just want this to be over.”

“Yes,” Lancet said somberly. “To think I would live to see two of these wretched murder trials. I hope I don’t have to witness another. I don’t even have the strength to be angry at you, Elsie.”

“Just wait a second!” Elsie screamed, her face pained and jittery. She stomped angrily and gnashed her teeth. “You haven’t proven a damn thing!”

“Sure he has,” Button said. “We’ve got all the evidence piled up in front of us. You really trying to say someone else did it? Your room was the perfect place to see it happen!”

“But it would’ve been impossible!” Elsie cried. “Isn’t it strange how the rope almost completely burned up? How the hell could I have done that from the other side of the corridor! I wouldn’t even be able to see the fireplace from that angle, let alone carefully put a whole bunch of rope in there!”

“You could’ve gotten lucky,” Copper said. “Everything else points to you.”

“And I’m saying that’s bullshit!” Elsie hissed. “Levitating objects out of your field of vision is like fumbling around in the dark without any sense of touch to guide you!”

“That’s true,” Sanscript mused. “That explains why the crowbars were strewn about haphazardly – nobody could have placed them neatly and expertly from a poor vantage point.”

“Exactly! I would’ve needed to be much closer to pull off something like that! So how do you explain it!? Huh!?”

“That’s really your argument?” I said sarcastically. “You want me to deconstruct that one too?” There was nothing else for me to do. I had destroyed Elsie’s defense utterly, leaving it hanging by a thread. All that was left was to make the final cut. The rest of them disappeared around me, nothing but Elsie and I, facing off as the rest of the world ceased to exist. Fire pumped through my veins. My nerves danced. I was alive. I was alive! “The truth is, you were the only one among us who would’ve had a chance.”

“Lies! Nothing but lies!”

The end of the trial was within my grasp. I took a deep breath. “I’m not backing down until I prove my case without a shadow of a doubt. So please, Elsie, give me everything you’ve got.”

 


Final Panic vs Elsie De Pone



 


It would’ve been practically impossible to put the rope into the fireplace from the other end of the corridor!


We know I couldn’t have raced over for a better view because of Reph’s testimony!



Just because I could’ve seen Yoko from inside my room doesn’t make me the killer!



The rope could just as easily have been carried from the other corridor!


The rope could just as easily have been carried by another unicorn!


The rope couldn’t have been disposed of before the killer got back to their room!



Nobody could have moved the rope once the investigation had started without it being noticed!



No evidence was found directly linking me to the killing!


I couldn’t have run the other way around the floor or I would’ve bumped into someone!


 



<><><><><><><><>



<><><><><><>



<><><><>



<><><>



<>



When could I have possibly had the chance to burn up the rope in the fireplace!?



 


One more question to answer. One more mystery to solve. I planted my hooves and held my head up high, ready to strike down my enemy with a single blow!




“THIS IS THE END!”

> Trial Two - Part 16
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


gvter niheWnel fik ehmoi



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 tihre Wvlgnemh oen eifki



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hWilm regvnton ehe ikfie



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Wihle revmiong eth kinfe



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.



While removing the knife



< Argument Break >


“You would’ve been able to reach the rec room with levitation, maybe even putting the rope just out of sight, but you’re right that sending it into the fire from that distance would’ve been an unbelievably difficult task. The fireplace isn't situated opposite the door, but a little off to the left, so you'd have needed to be much closer to the doorway to have a decent chance at pulling it off. But this little fact got me thinking... It didn’t occur to me at the time, but it was rather odd of you to pull the knife out of Yoko’s neck the instant we found him. But that was simply the perfect opportunity, wasn’t it? To use your magic in front of Dopple, Lancet and I, our attention focused on the knife, on Yoko’s lifeless body, all while you, with your new vantage point, could carefully lift the fireplace guard out of the way and cast the rope into the fire.”

Elsie collapsed, her body shivering with terror and panic, spluttering as she choked on tears. She pounded hopelessly at the floor with her hooves, smashing her glasses into pieces as she cried out in pain. Every ounce of confidence and gusto had been drained from her body. She was nothing more than a wreck now. “No… This can’t be!”

“That explains it,” Lancet said painedly. “I should have wondered why Elsie took out the knife before the investigation even started.”

“To tell the truth,” Dish Panner said, “I thought you had done that so you could inspect the body. Until Greyscale said so, I never even considered it could’ve been Elsie.”

“Then who?” Maribelle asked. “Who did you think was guilty among us?”

Dish Panner hung her head. “It doesn’t matter now. I should’ve known that nobody could be trusted.” She raised her head. “You did an excellent job in fooling me, Elsie. But I guess those long, thoughtful conversations we had meant absolutely nothing to you. Not that I can really hate you for it, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” Inky muttered solemnly. “She was real nice to us out in the courtyard, huh? I really enjoyed our talks, you know? I don’t have a damn clue about interior design, but it sure sounded important to you, so I liked hearing you talk about it. Not to mention how much you love your kids.”

“Kids?” Copper spoke up. “Elsie, you’re a mother?”

“Yeah,” Inky answered. “She mentioned ‘em to me and Dishy. She said she has four: one son and three daughters. Didn’t say too much about them, but I guess it must be hard to talk about.” She held a hoof up in Elsie’s direction as if to try and comfort the whimpering mare. “Elsie, I don’t have kids of my own, so I don’t completely understand, but I think if I did, I’d want to be with them more than anything else.”

“Is everyone certain?” Maribelle asked. “If we’re to cast our votes, we can’t risk being wrong.”

“I’ll make it easy for everyone,” I said. “I’ll break down everything we learned in this case, piece by piece from the very beginning. Then after that… the killer must face their punishment.”




“HERE’S EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED IN THIS CASE!”



 


“The killer’s plan was put into motion just after the end of the first trial. While most of us took some time out to rest after that traumatic event, the killer wasn’t about to sleep on their chance to commit murder. They snuck into the MonoMart while the rest of us were unawares. Except, as it happened, for the soon to be victim, Yoko Zuna.

“The killer took a bunch of items that they needed, including rope, a large glass container – one of the gargantuan cider bottles – as well as some flour, several crowbars, razor blades, nails, screws, glue, and a combat knife. This all sounds like a heck of a lot, far more than anyone could be expected to carry out even in multiple trips, but the killer was more than capable. Through the use of unicorn magic they were able to quickly collect and levitate everything they needed outside.

“You’d be forgiven for thinking that Yoko would have told us all about this later that day, considering he was in the same building, but the stallion had flung himself into an alcohol-fueled spiral of despair, either not caring about someone else’s presence or becoming too drunk to even retain those memories in the first place. This way, the killer remained undetected, and carried their murderous tools to the side of the hotel building and through their own window.

“In what seems like an attempt to either give the illusion of an impossible crime or check that nobody else could start on a murder attempt of their own, the killer then attracted the attention of Ink Slinger and Dish Panner, convincing them to join her in the MonoMart. The three grabbed some snacks before relaxing at the picnic tables in the courtyard, but not before watching Yoko skulk off, an assortment of spirits in his possession.

“A little while later, Monobunny called everyone to the dining hall. During the discussion that followed, we all agreed that we needed a way to prevent anyone from taking any dangerous items from the MonoMart while the rest of us were unaware, and came up with the preferred method – the MonoMart Stock Check. A group of us – including myself and the killer – went along, and each of the dangerous items in the store’s corner were laid out for all to see and meticulously counted. Not only that, but the numbers of each item were recorded in paint on the floor tiles below. This, funnily enough, was done by the killer themselves. We had all assumed that however many of each item there were, this was the full amount, and we would only consider an item to be missing if the number was less than what had been painted. Given the fact that we had only ever been to this section of the MonoMart once before, it was unlikely that any of us could have noticed anything was missing. 

“For the next few days our group performed this stock check periodically and found no deviation from the ‘original’ amounts, meaning we had no reason to believe that anyone had taken anything at all. This would lead right up to the investigation itself, which took place before the store’s normal opening hours.

“With the items themselves, the killer had some work ahead of them. They poured away the cider from the huge glass bottle and filled it with nails, screws, razor blades, and other pieces of shrapnel. The container would also require a certain amount of flour in order to create what would become a deadly weapon – a nail bomb.

“The killer would also construct something else from their assortment of items. By wrapping a coil of rope around some crowbars in a certain pattern and gluing them in place, they had created a makeshift grappling hook. These were some rather elaborate methods used by the killer, but ironically, the one item they had brought along for an entirely different use would actually cause Yoko’s end.

“Early on the day of the murder, the killer had several things they needed to do. First, they needed to ensure that nobody would leave the hotel, as there was a chance they could be caught in the act. To do this, they drew up a sign and placed it on the inside of the entrance. It proclaimed to be an order from Monobunny, threatening them to stay inside or risk punishment. But there was a chance someone could discover this was a fake provided they summon Monobunny using the lobby’s service bell. Given that Monobunny is prohibited from lying, he wouldn’t have been able to trick others into helping the killer succeed. So the killer hid the service bell by floating it up to the roof, meaning anyone who saw the sign would have to risk their limbs in order to test its validity.

“Next, the killer set up the nail bomb in the recreation room, which we had previously chosen as a meeting place for the group in charge of the MonoMart Stock Check for that time. They had also lit the fire, likely with some matches they’d taken from the MonoMart. They had also done something else that was vital for their plan to succeed – they had opened the window.

“Next, the killer used their makeshift grappling hook to climb up to the roof. They then set it in place just above the recreation room window and lowered themselves down. This allowed them to essentially stay in mid-air, circumventing the rule that disallows unicorns from floating by simply levitating an item and then holding onto it. From this position they were able to see the exact moment someone entered the room, while also being able to manipulate the objects inside it, most notably, the nail bomb.

“Just after six, Yoko walked into the regular meeting place, and was subsequently caught in the trap. The killer used their magic to shake up the nail bomb like a snow-globe, the flour creating an explosive atmosphere inside. Then, using some kindling from the fireplace, they plunged a flame into the bottle and tucked their head behind the wall. Yoko had known something was wrong and tried to escape, as evidenced by the fact his wounds were across his hind legs and torso, but he was was caught in the blast, the room was left in shambles, and the table upon which the container had been sitting was blown to bits. The fire, however, was left intact, due to the rather solid fireplace guard being fitted in front of it.

“Next, the killer closed the window. While this normally would’ve been against the rules, since Monobunny has made it clear that only simple telekinesis is allowed, where the object being controlled is separated only by air, it was still possible to close the handle on the inside thanks to some holes in the glass caused by the explosion.

“While the killer clambered back onto the roof and dropped down into their own room, something was happening on the inside that they could never have expected. Yoko, thanks to his immense body mass, was able to survive the explosion that would have obliterated any normal pony. He crawled with the last of his strength towards Reph’s door, trying to get help, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

“He hammered on Reph’s door a few times, trying to get the stallion’s attention, but Reph was scared into submission, having already heard an explosion happen right next door. Yoko was hitting it hard enough to buckle the door itself, but made a mistake when he accidentally broke the door’s magnetic lock, which is against the rules. Seeing this, Monobunny appeared and sliced off one of Yoko’s legs, leaving him helpless. 

“On the inside of the room, Reph was frozen in fear, not having any idea what could be causing such a ruckus. While he didn’t look out through his peephole, he kept a keen ear out, confirming that aside from Yoko, there were no hoof-steps outside during this time. This would go some way to discounting the idea that a different killer had struck while Yoko was weak and unable to defend himself, but there was another piece of evidence that sealed the deal completely. 

“Once the killer had climbed down from the roof and through their window, they began cutting apart the grappling hook. If we’d found it intact during the investigation, we’d have been able to figure out their method with relative ease, meaning the killer had to find a way to take it apart. They did so using a combat knife that they’d taken from the MonoMart. 

“Thanks to two pieces of information, we can deduce that this was the only knife of its kind that wasn’t accounted for by the stock check, and also that it was used for this very purpose. Firstly, thanks to a comment made by Monobunny, we found out that there were eight of each type of knife kept in the MonoMart, with seven combat knives on the stock check, leaving this as the only missing knife. Secondly, thanks to an experiment by Mesmer during the investigation, we know that razor blades couldn’t have been used in its place, as they were a poor tool to cut the rope. Even if the killer had chosen to use them instead of a knife, that would mean in the short amount of time between the explosion and the discovery of Yoko’s body, they would’ve been incapable of severing it in time. As such, we can know for sure that the knife was used by whomever set off the nail bomb.

“The rope was cut from the crowbars, but still left behind some residue from the glue and a few fibers. Pushed for time, as it was expected that others would investigate the explosion, the killer levitated the crowbars outside and around the corner of the hotel, letting them fall to the ground. This alerted Maribelle and she went to investigate, only to be stopped by the sign at the entrance.

“With Yoko thrashing about in the corridor, the killer heard this and looked out through their peephole to see what had happened, to find that to their shock, Yoko was still alive. Their murder attempt had failed, so they did the last thing they could think of – fire the knife like an arrow and stab Yoko’s neck until he bled to death. Whether through panic or as a part of their plan, the killer also sent the rope they’d been carrying to the end of the corridor as well, and hurled it into the recreation room. Given the distance and the fact that they wouldn’t have been able to see the fireplace from that viewpoint, being able to dispose of it in that way wasn’t possible at the time.

“At around this time I was searching the gym and listening out for anything suspicious. I met up with Lancet in the hallway and got the attention of Dopple, and we went to investigate. Once we’d turned the corner, we saw the body, and Lancet let out a scream. Upon hearing this, the killer burst out from their room, pretending to believe that Lancet was being attacked and coming to her rescue.

“We approached Yoko’s body and stared in dismay. But the killer still needed to get rid of the rope. It would’ve been suspicious if their horn lit up without us seeing anything move in front of us, meaning they had to find another way. And so, in order to distract us and take our attention, they placed themselves in a spot where they had a better view of the inside of the recreation room and pulled out the knife from Yoko’s neck, holding it in front of us. Considering the great lengths we’d gone to in order to prevent the use of weapons, not to mention the bloodbath before us, we were in total shock. Taking advantage of the situation, the killer also used their magic to unclip the fireplace guard and lift it out of the way, allowing them to toss the rope into the still burning fire. Unfortunately for them, a small piece of it survived unscathed. They then feigned fainting, dropping the knife. Everyone came to the corridor because of the body discovery announcement, and the investigation was underway.

“This was an elaborate murder attempt gone wrong, but in doing so added another layer to our search. The killer must have decided upon it before the end of the first trial and kept the items in their room, keeping them for when the time was right, with the meeting place offering the perfect opportunity. There’s only one of us here who could’ve been capable, and who would’ve been able to witness certain events. And that’s none other than the Ultimate Interior Designer, Elsie De Pone!”
> Trial Two - Final
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I think that settles it,” I finished, exhaling deeply. 

“It all makes sense,” Dish Panner said, sounding exhausted. “I can’t disagree with anything you just said. Elsie really was the killer.”

“Well!?” Inky cried angrily. “What do you have to say for yourself!?”

Elsie continued breathing in short, sharp gasps, before struggling out a few pained words. “F-fools… You abs-s-solute fucking fools…”

“What?” I remarked. “What are you talking about?”

Elsie reared her head and screamed at the top of her lungs. “You’re a fool! A moron! You completely ruined it! You stupid fucking idiot!”

“That’s ridiculous,” I shot back. “You’re the fool for thinking you could get away with murder.”

“I was ready to die for you! For all of you! I was willing to sacrifice myself! But now you’ve ruined it! You’ve ruined everything!” Elsie descended into another round of incomprehensible wails, her face planted on the floor.

“That… can’t be true,” I said in shock. “You’re not making any sense. What do you mean you were ready to die for us? That’s crazy, right?” I looked towards Mesmer and Dopple, hoping for approval, but found them staring bleakly at the floor. “No. It’s not true. She killed only to save herself! That’s all there is to it!” With each word I spoke an even greater doubt sank into my heart. I started to panic. And yet, I couldn’t even begin to comprehend the truth that Mesmer and Dopple had realized, the truth that Elsie spoke of. I had solved the case of Yoko’s death, but not the mystery behind it. I was both a king and a fool.

“I don’t understand it either,” Maribelle said. “Elsie, please, you must explain to us.”

Elsie sniffed and wiped away tears, exposing her red-raw eyes and quivering lip. “It’s all for nothing, anyway. I failed. I failed to save everyone. I wanted to do the right thing, I really did. I thought about what Shetland said before he died, and it all just clicked.”

“Wait a second,” Button interrupted. “Shetland was a police officer. He thought he was doing the right thing ‘cause he’d go out there and stop the mastermind. What could you have done?”

“More importantly,” Sanscript added, “Shetland had no interest in saving our lives, but those of the innocents he envisioned becoming involved in future killing games. Yet you, Elsie, spoke of saving us. It doesn’t make any sense at all. You did kill Yoko, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Elsie muttered. “If not Yoko, then someone else. Anyone else. All lives are equal. You see, I was suspicious of there being a spy from the very beginning.”

“Are you serious!?” Monobunny called out. “Did someone blab?”

Elsie shook her head. “I didn’t know for sure, but I thought it made sense having someone on the inside who could stir things up a bit. But there were two things that made me feel even more strongly.” She took a deep breath. “Those times we heard Monobunny’s voice sound like it came from all around us, but couldn’t find any auditory equipment inside the dome. I knew then that we must all have devices inside our ears, being triggered when deemed necessary, like the body discoveries.”

“Oh ho, you figured that out, did you?” Monobunny taunted.

“Wait, she’s right!?” Button cried, attempting to burrow a hoof into one of his ears. “I don’t want that stuff inside me!”

“That won’t work!” Monobunny said, giggling. “The hi-tech earpieces are embedded inside your ear canals. If you tried to remove them, you could end up ripping out your hammers and anvils!”

“We’d do… what?” Inky asked blankly. “We wouldn’t be able to make swords and stuff?”

“They’re bones,” Lancet corrected. “The hammer and anvil, along with the stirrup, are the bridge between your eardrum and cochlea.” She frowned pensively. “Without them, you’d go deaf.”

I mulled over this revelation for a moment, trying to remember everything that had happened thus far. As strange as it had been to hear those voices, I hadn’t thought much of it. Wait, what about that dream I had about Patience, like someone was telling me a story? Could that have been…?

“Okay, so we have earpieces,” Copper said. She sighed and shook her head. “That explains a lot, but why did that make you think there was a spy?”

“Can’t you see?” Elsie hushed. “This means that we have no idea what another one of us might be hearing. The body discovery announcement and other calls from Monobunny, I assume, are given to everyone, but what was stopping someone from getting other information? What was stopping him from helping someone out, from keeping them out of trouble, from telling them exactly what was going on so they could do something about it!?” She began hyperventilating, but everyone stayed quiet, waiting for her to calm down. What she said made total sense. “The other thing that made me suspect a spy, was Pinkie.”

“Pinkie?” Inky remarked. “What, you thought she had something to do with all this?”

“Not at all,” Elsie replied softly. “If anything, she was the most innocent one among all of us. It was what Shetland said about her, the words she used, her fears about two of us who were dangerous. I don’t know who she was talking about, but I thought then that there was a traitor among us.”

“But you dismissed Pinkie’s claims,” Lancet said. “You even said she was crazy.”

“I had to. I didn’t want anyone to even think that I’d taken her seriously, not if it meant I could keep my plan a secret. But I’ve known of others like Pinkie: ponies who had a sixth sense, so to speak. Plus, she was right about Shetland based on that sense. I thought then, maybe, that I could get a jump on the mastermind’s plan and bring this killing game to an end. That was my goal all along. That’s why I planned the killing. Once Monobunny confirmed the existence of a spy, I made my choice.”

“You wanted to kill the spy?” Maribelle asked. “I don’t see how you could have figured that out. Did you think Yoko was the spy?”

“I knew the spy would never be killed by my nail bomb,” Elsie said sadly. Despite her earlier sobbing she had become surprisingly calm, as if she had already accepted her fate. “I knew I would have to kill someone innocent. I don’t blame anyone for thinking I’m a monster for doing such a thing, knowing what I knew, but that was the choice I made. In my eyes, it was for the greater good. But I had to accept that I… would have to die as well.”

Everyone was silent. I simply stared, trying every mental angle I could muster in order to pick apart what Elsie was saying. I couldn’t do it. I wanted, hoped that it was Elsie who was mistaken, that she had failed in her own line of logic.

“I know this must be hard,” Mesmer said flatly, “but I think you should tell us everything. I think it should come from you, or your sacrifice might be in vain.”

Elsie chortled, wiping away a fresh batch of tears. “I should’ve known you’d figure it out. I’m sorry I treated you so harshly, but you understand why, I presume.”

“Understand what!?” I blasted, my head pounding. “That you’re vying for sympathy from us because that’s all you have left!? Are you trying to pretend you were some kind of martyr!?” My brain failed to keep up with my mouth. I wanted to stay quiet, to bathe in this moment as another puzzle to solve, a trial to overcome through wit and intellect, but I felt offended, insulted even. I hadn’t even realized that I’d started crying. “What would Yoko think if he was here, with us!?”

Mesmer was about to speak when Elsie raised her hoof, hushing him. Then she looked into my eyes and smiled. “I’m sorry for calling you an idiot. You… have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. You fought so hard to bring me down, it’s rather admirable, really. As much as I tried to dissuade you, and as much as I wish I had, you did everything in your power to do what you believed was right. To answer your question, I think if Yoko was here with us, he’d be immensely proud of you.”

I shook my head, tears dribbling down my chin. “You’re not Elsie. You’re not. How… why did you do all this?”

Elsie sighed. “I… I just wanted everyone to live here, together, like a family.”

My heart leapt before plunging into my stomach. I stood with my mouth agape in disbelief, pins and needles dancing across my back. Time ceased to exist, and I finally took a deep, desperate gulp of air from having forgotten to breathe. I just couldn’t accept what was being said.

“I know that sounds incredibly stupid. I know! But that was the only way out of this that I could see. There’s no escaping from here, not when we’re surrounded by a dome of concrete and have a psychotic rabbit who can kill us at will. I’ll be honest, I did think about committing murder just so I could get out of here. Haven’t most of us?” Elsie was met with silence and some averted gazes. “It’s natural to want to survive, isn’t it? What’s wrong with wanting our old lives back? I love my children. I really do love them with my whole heart. I want to see them so much, but…

“When I took those things from the MonoMart, I didn’t know for sure if there was a spy. I had nothing but a hunch, just a possibility in the back of my mind. Dish Panner? Inky?” The two mares merely nodded in response, staring with glassy eyes. “I didn’t drag you to the MonoMart to cover my tracks or make it look as though nobody could’ve taken anything from there. I really, truly wanted your company. I wanted someone to talk to about my children with, because at that time, I was stuck between killing someone in order to see them again and being happy, or having my own children watch me slaughter someone innocent for my own selfish gains and deride me for the rest of my life.”

“That’s awful,” Maribelle muttered, having started crying herself. “But do we know if they have been watching us?”

Elsie shook her head. “I asked Monobunny this before and he refused to answer. I thought it wouldn’t be that big of a deal since he told us about Pinkie’s friend Applejack, but he wouldn’t budge. I don’t know why that is, and thought maybe it meant they weren’t watching, since otherwise he would’ve told me, but then I considered it was all part of his plan. If I knew my children were watching, I’d be less likely to kill. Whether they’re watching me right now or not, by not knowing if they were, I could do exactly what he wanted.

“It’s obvious that Monobunny and the mastermind want this killing game to be as interesting and eventful as possible, if you can call horrific, twisted murders interesting, that is. But that’s clearly what they want, so everything they do is geared towards making that happen. And once Monobunny told us all about the spy, everything just clicked. Someone here was manipulating us, hiding in plain sight as they slowly but surely goaded us into killing each other. They would have all the relevant information thanks to the dome’s cameras, meaning the mastermind could tell the spy exactly what to do for the most desirable result. 

“I thought about it, and having an eventful murder trial would be best. Just look around us, all these cameras pointing towards this stage, like we’re putting on a show for the masses. What if the murder method was completely obvious and the killer was found out within a few seconds of setting hoof into the circle? I imagine they’d think, “what an anti-climax” or “that was over quickly.” A boring trial for a boring murder that fooled nobody. But more than that, the last thing they would want is for all their hard work to go to waste.” Elsie stood up straight, staring up at Monobunny with a look of subdued terror. “There’s just no way you’d want the game to end so soon, right?”

Monobunny gave no answer and merely scratched behind his ear nonchalantly, fiddling with his gavel.

“You see?” Elsie said somberly. “Now he knows I figured it out. It doesn’t matter who tries to get out of here by killing. They won’t let you. All that’ll happen is you’ll be found out in the trial and perish, then the game will continue.”

“How can you be sure?” Dish Panner asked. “What’s to say that the killer can’t outsmart everyone?”

“Monobunny sees all,” Elsie replied flatly. “There’s simply no way to deny that. And if he’s able to contact the spy, it means it’s impossible to fool them. The spy would surely be told how the murder took place, meaning they could extend the game, just as the mastermind wants. When I killed Yoko, I had no doubt in my mind that I would be found out and executed. My goal was never to escape from this place; it was to expose the spy.” Elsie clenched her eyes shut in frustration. “But it all went wrong. The nail bomb didn’t kill Yoko and I panicked. You know something, Button was right.”

“Me?” Button remarked.

Elsie nodded. “You mentioned how the killer would’ve been better off hiding the knife and the rope inside their mattress. That was actually my plan all along, but I never got the chance. Before I could even think to slit my mattress open I heard Yoko down the other end of the corridor. When I looked through the peephole I could hardly believe my eyes, and well, you all know the rest.”

“I’m afraid I still don’t understand,” Sanscript said, furrowing his brow. “How would this have exposed the spy in any way?”

“Let’s put this another way, would anyone have been able to solve this case if the rope and knife had never been discovered? What if all we found was someone lying dead in the rec room, having been ripped apart by shrapnel? Where could you have gone from there? What clues could you have put together?”

“Nothing,” I said limply, finally finding my voice. “It would’ve been the perfect crime.”

“Exactly,” Elsie replied. “I needed it to be foolproof, but convoluted enough to send everyone off track in a spiral of wild theories. Even if you worked out it was a nail bomb, there would’ve been no indication that it was triggered from outside the building, and no way to prove it. And even if there was, there would still be no way of determining who was responsible. Not with pure logic, at least. And even if the spy called me out and tried to convince the rest of you, there would be no guarantee you’d listen to them. No… The only way the spy could ensure their survival would either be to use knowledge outside of what should’ve been available to them, or to force themselves into my room during the investigation and search my mattress. And once either of those things happened, I could explain my entire plan from the beginning and denounce them as a traitor. I would still die, but at least the rest of you could go on without worrying over which one of you was the spy, and to deal with them appropriately, bringing the killing game to an end. 

“That was what I’d wanted all along, but I knew I couldn’t rely on anyone else. So I took it upon myself to be that sacrifice. The only problem was, someone else would have to sacrifice themselves along with me. It didn’t matter to me who it was; one death was a small price to pay to save everyone else and render the spy powerless. Then you could’ve all lived here, together, for the rest of your days. That was all I wanted, but my murder attempt was a disaster, leaving all the evidence out there for everyone to see. Greyscale just connected the dots using cold, hard logic. I had lost my one chance to learn the spy’s true identity.” 

Elsie finished, hanging her head in defeat. The truth was finally out in all its hideous glory. It was something I could never have hoped to conceive. 

“Damn it!” Button yelled abruptly, stomping his hooves. “Are you telling me Greyscale screwed us over!? We didn’t even need to find the killer, ‘cause you were gonna fess up anyway!?”

“Button, that’s hardly fair,” Maribelle scolded. “Greyscale was just doing his best. We all were. For all we knew, if we didn’t find the killer, we would have been executed.”

I gritted my teeth. Up until that point, I hadn’t even considered the punishment for failure. All I had cared about was being right. 

“In that case,” Button continued, “why aren’t we calling it now? Greyscale must be the spy! Just like you said, Elsie, you wanted to see who could find you out. And didn’t he do the same thing last time? The answer was staring at us in the face!”

“No,” Dopple cut in with. “That’s wrong and you know it. Simply figuring out who the culprit was doesn’t make him the spy. Greyscale merely used the limited information available and good logic to reach the correct conclusion. He undertook the investigation in a normal manner, doing nothing out of sorts. What Elsie wanted was for someone to display knowledge beyond that boundary.”

“I guess,” Button said unsurely, giving me a dirty look. 

“I don’t know what to think,” Lancet said morosely. “Elsie was trying to save us, even at the cost of her own life, but even if it worked, would it have truly been worth it?”

Dish Panner sighed. “What would we have even done with the spy? We could tie them up, beat them, torture them, but what would that accomplish? We’d still be stuck here.”

“I did think that,” Elsie muttered. “That you wouldn’t want to live here even if it was finally safe. But I saw no other ray of hope.”

“It wouldn’t be safe,” Copper said sternly, her cheeks flaring. “Even without the spy it still wouldn’t be safe! We’re in a killing game with a bunch of strangers!” She spat at the ground in anger. “I know you want us to feel sorry for you and all, but from my perspective, you just killed Yoko and threw yourself into the grave for nothing.”

“Copper!” Dish Panner chided, aghast. “Have some respect! She did what she thought was right!”

“Is that supposed to mean something?” Copper shot back. “Do you really think every atrocity, every bullet to a brain, every ounce of malice and torture and bludgeoning and rape and fucking genocide was done by someone who thought they were doing the wrong thing!? That no parent ever brainwashed and manipulated their child in an attempt to help them!? That nobody ever beat their spouse ‘for their own good’!? Is arrogance not a thing!? Is paranoid delusion not a thing!?”

Dish Panner bit her lip. “She wanted to save us.”

“Tell that to Yoko!” Copper yelled. “Better yet, tell that to Greyscale, Mesmer, Sanscript and Dopple. Tell that to the others who could’ve been blasted by shrapnel if they’d been the first one from their group to arrive in the rec room. What if she’d done it on a different day? What if it was someone else!?” Copper took a deep breath, tears trickling down her eyes. “And all for what? So we could deal with this all over again?”

“Copper, you’re overreacting.”

Copper’s jaw dropped. “Grey, you–”

“I don’t agree with what Elsie did, but it was better than trying to kill someone just so she could get out of here.” Everyone was looking at me. I was the center of attention now. I knew what I had to do. I had to provide the resolution we all needed. Because I’m the star of the show. “You’re right that even if she’d succeeded, it wouldn’t have guaranteed our safety. You’re also right that it could’ve been me who died.”

Copper looked away, scowling. “Please don’t.”

“But unlike Shetland, she was willing to die for her beliefs. She put everything on the line to do what she saw fit. It failed, and was in many ways wrong, but I still think she deserves some respect, at least in these last few moments. Elsie?”

“Yes?” the mare replied serenely.

“I wish we could’ve gotten to know each other a bit better.” She said family. She said family! But you haven’t cracked me yet! “As much as I liked Yoko, I won’t hold this against you. But I cannot apologize for my part in this trial.” So, what? I could’ve just stayed quiet instead of proving I could solve it? Not a chance. “I just did what I had to do.”

“And you did well,” Elsie replied, smiling. “And Copper, I don’t blame you either.”

“Yawn, yawn, yawn!” Monobunny interjected, pounding his gavel against the stool with each word. “Doesn’t anyone else think this has gone on long enough? You’ve presumably all made your minds up, so I’m bringing this to an end.” Beneath our hooves, the voting wheel appeared. “As is procedure during voting time, everyone’s voting dial is set to themselves by default. But you can change that! Simply press down on the arrows to scroll through a list of every participant, both living and deceased! On my word a one-minute timer will start, and once the timer reaches zero, your vote will be locked in! The participant who receives the most votes will officially be chosen by the entirety of the group as the culprit. Should this majority vote be correct, the killer will be executed and the game will continue! Should the vote be incorrect, the killer will have their freedom and the rest of you shall perish! If, by chance, the majority vote is split evenly among two or more participants, everyone will die! Make sure you choose wisely!” 

The sixty-second timer appeared and began to count down. I quickly tapped at the arrows until Elsie’s pixelated form was displayed beneath me. 

“My children,” Elsie said, staring out into the crowd of cameras. “Sundrop, you’re the eldest, so you look after the others. I know you’re capable. Sasha, you always dreamed of becoming an artist, and I believe in you all the way! Bastion, you’re my tough little guy, and I know you’ll do great things. Beansprout, I…” Elsie collapsed, tears suddenly gushing forth from her. “I know you’re too young to understand, but know that Mommy loved you with all her heart. I’m so sorry I can’t be with you. I’m so sorry.”

The timer soon reached zero and a horn blared. “The votes are in, and as expected, the majority vote was for the Ultimate Interior Designer, Elsie De Pone! The question is, were you correct?” A drum roll began to play but was quickly cut off. “Of course you were! Obviously! Right, let’s start the fanfare, come on.”

Several jets of rainbow-colored confetti flew past us, creating a dazzling snowstorm. The crowd cheered until the last of the confetti fell to the ground. Then there was silence.

“What? Nobody’s got anything else to say? You’ve got it all out of your system?”

“You’re insane,” Copper muttered tearfully. “This whole thing is insane.”

“Not very insightful,” Monobunny remarked, cackling with laughter. “If that’s all there is, I’ll just get on with it.”

Before anyone could even think, Elsie disappeared in an instant, her screams erupting from the hole in the floor. We all knew what was coming next. Just as before, a set of monitors rose up from the ground in front of each remaining participant, displaying static. This quickly changed to an image of what appeared to be the cross section of a mansion, its rooms filled with all manner of colorful wallpaper and furnishings. It looked like a doll’s house for foals upon first glance, even retaining the same plasticky white wall pieces, but then I noticed something moving in a bedroom at the uppermost left corner. It was Elsie. 

The image changed again, this time showing a closeup of the trapped mare, who was frantically banging on the clear Perspex barrier between herself and the camera, allowing the house to appear as if it was cross section. She levitated the bed and hurled it, but the barrier wouldn’t budge. The words ‘Ultimate Interior Designer Elsie De Pone in Home Improvement’ appeared on the screen. The execution was about to begin.

Suddenly, there was a deep, mechanical grinding sound, and the leftmost wall began to move, a set of pistons pushing it from one end of the room to the other, toppling a bedside table and squeezing a wardrobe against the bed until it burst. Quick to react, Elsie fumbled for the door and charged into the next room mere seconds before its entire contents were crushed into a mess of splinters. 

The camera switched to the room Elsie had escaped into – a dining room – only this time, the ceiling was moving downwards, the chandelier swaying erratically and eventually landing on the neatly presented table. Elsie flew from this room as well, screaming. I knew she had no chance of survival. I knew she knew there was no chance of survival. But her instincts kicked in anyway and she tried as hard as she could. She was into the next room just as the ceiling hit the table and snapped it into pieces on the way to the floor. 

What came next was all the same, Elsie running into another room just in time for the walls or ceiling to begin caving in on her, decimating the furniture, and Elsie evading death with mere seconds to spare. She made several attempts to break her way out, hurling anything and everything she found along the way, but to no avail. 

What stood out to me the most was how thoughtfully this mansion – which existed purely so it could be destroyed – had been created. Rich tapestries lined the walls, a wide assortment of ornaments lined the mantlepieces, and toys were piled up in what were supposedly rooms for foals. Such an incredible amount of time, effort, and resources, all so it could be thrown away. Even considering what I’d seen before, it was almost inconceivable. 

As we’d all expected, Elsie finally reached a room from which there was no escape, a metallic shutter cutting her off from heading back. It was completely white, with no furnishings of any kind. A blank slate. A room of nothingness. Elsie wrenched her head back and forth, almost as if she expected an escape hatch to suddenly appear before her, before collapsing onto the floor and sobbing wildly. 

The room stood still for a little while, as if it were taunting us, driving us mad with suspense. But then one of the walls began to move. It was the back wall, the one opposite the clear panel the camera was looking through. With no furniture to get in its way, there was only Elsie. I heard cries of anguish from the others, many of them turning away or closing their eyes and plugging their ears. But I couldn’t look away. I was locked in place, struck with paralyzing horror, my eyes wide and waiting. 

Elsie, having realized what was about to happen, was standing on her hind legs with her face pressed up against the transparent panel, deliriously muttering apology after apology, a mixture of tears and saliva dripping down her chin. The wall was slowly approaching, almost upon her. Then it made contact with her back and she let forth an ear-piercing scream, throwing her back her head and splaying out her limbs. The wall kept to its course.

Her screams were cut short once the bones began to buckle and break, first her ribcage rupturing, several ribs jutting out at her sides like a grotesque spider and spraying fountains of blood. Her hind legs snapped like lumber. Stunned into silence from the agony, Elsie kept one eye staring back at us, bright and alert. Then there was the sound of a hundred walnuts being cracked, and Elsie’s skull split open, chunks of grey matter being pushed flat against the surface as her face was torn apart. Her eyeball popped like a grape. The wall continued until there was no more room to push. What was once a living, breathing mare just thirty seconds earlier was now a multicolored slurry spread across the wall. A light-hearted xylophone jingle played as the words ‘That’s Art Attack!’ flashed on screen. Then it faded to black and the monitors retreated. 

“What’s interesting to note is that there was a knife hidden in one of the drawers in the first bedroom. She could’ve just slit her throat and died in a less painful way! Oh well, not everything in life is fair.”

“Can’t you just let us go!?” Button cried. “The trial’s over, dimwit!”

“Oh, not just yet,” Monobunny said eerily, and a swirling green light appeared from above, dancing over each of us in quick succession as a low beeping sound played out.

“What’s going on!?” Copper yelled. “You can’t kill us here! This isn’t in the rules!”

“I-I’m n-not ready to die!” Reph howled, curling into a ball and shivering.

My heart raced as the beeping grew faster and faster, until finally the light vanished and a single high-pitched note rang in my ears. 

“Ding! With the use of the spy scanner, I can confirm that the spy is very much still among you!” Monobunny tilted his head back and laughed. “Of course, the spy scanner itself doesn’t really do much, and I know who the spy is so it’s rather pointless as far as that function goes, but I feel it makes it a little more suspenseful when it’s revealed this way. Anyhoo, that’s the end of the trial!” The barriers surrounding each of us dissipated. “You all have just five minutes to leave this room or face a harsh punishment! Bye-onara!” With that, his stool rose to the ceiling and he drifted out of sight. The spotlights shut down, leaving us in relative darkness. We were finally free. Or at least, as free as we could ever hope to be.

I shuffled down from the stage and took to the long carpet. The atmosphere was even heavier than after the first trial. Everyone seemed to be avoiding eye contact as several of us collectively hobbled along.

“I can’t go through that again,” Dish Panner muttered. “I’ve dealt with enough.”

“Everyone, we must have hope,” Lancet said. “It’s the only way for us to beat Monobunny. We must learn to trust in each other if we’re to–”

“I’ve had enough of your nonsense!” Sanscript exclaimed, quickly trotting to the front and pulling the door open. “My dear, there is a clear difference between optimism and foolishness. Quite frankly, I don’t know why I ever took your inane warbling seriously.”

“Sanscript,” Inky said, rushing up to him. “Come on, we’re all on edge, but you don’t have to be rude.” She put a hoof on his shoulder which was instantly slapped away.

“As for you,” Sanscript snarled, “you’ve been nothing but a constant thorn in my side! Just let me be alone from now on! Stop pestering me or I’ll… I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” Inky interrupted, stepping in his way. “Hit me? Give me a big ol’ slap in the face?” She stepped up to him with a deadly serious expression. “If I’ve hurt you that much, if it’ll make you feel better, I want you to do it.”

Dish Panner stepped between them. “Sanscript, don’t even think about it.”

Inky stood her ground. “Dishy, step off for a second. Sanscript, I mean it. I’ve obviously hurt you in a way I didn’t expect, so go ahead, as hard as you can. I won’t hold it against you, I promise.”

Dish Panner grabbed Inky, attempting to pull her away. “Stop it! This won’t help anyone!”

Sanscript clenched his face, turning red, before pushing past the two mares and heading up the steps. “You’re insane! The lot of you! I can’t take it any longer!”

“This is such a mess,” Copper muttered, sidling next to me. “Damn it, Elsie. Why’d you have to go and do something so stupid?”

“Don’t worry,” Maribelle cooed. “She’s gone to a better place.”

Copper rolled her eyes as we passed through the door and began the upwards trek. “Yeah, right. You keep telling yourself that but it’s nothing more than wishful thinking. You really think that pile of blood and meat we saw got sent to a wonderful place? Skipping through fields of daisies, is she? Soaking it up in the sun forever and ever?”

“Copper,” Dopple said sternly. “I don’t think this is the time or the place.” 

“Well this is the only time and only place I have, for all I know!” Copper spat back. “And if I’m gonna end up as nothing but worm food just like Elsie, I’ll say whatever the hell I want! So what, Maribelle, is this killing game all part of some divine plan? All so we can go to the big playground in the sky? How loving and caring for us to suffer this torture. Oh, how thankful we should be for–”

There was a loud crack as Copper’s face was struck and she lolled backwards, tumbling down the next few stairs, almost taking out Reph as she rolled over sideways. She let out a shriek and clutched at her left eye. It all happened so fast I barely understood what had happened until Copper cried out once more. “You bitch!”

“Rest assured, I forgive you for your harsh words,” Maribelle said, smiling softly. “May Sol guide you down the right path, for she is merciful.”

Sol...? 

“I’m gonna tear you to pieces!” Copper yelled, scrambling to her hooves.

“No, stay back!” Button cried, shielding Maribelle as best he could. “Don’t hurt her!”

Copper stared down the young colt as Maribelle trotted away peacefully, then furiously sunk her hoof into the wall, recoiling as she did so.

I rushed to Copper’s side as others began to chastise Maribelle, the mare ignoring their every comment. “Copper, are you okay?”

“No, no I’m not,” she sobbed, wrapping a wing around me. “I want to go home. I just want to go home.”

Once we reached the top of the stairs, everyone went their separate ways. Lancet saw to Copper, who now adorned a very painful-looking bruise just above her left eye. Despite my concern, Copper reassured me, and departed to her room. I approached Mesmer, who was stood to one side, watching as the opening closed over and reformed the wall.

“Have you figured it out yet?” 

“Figured what?” I asked. 

“The dome.” He looked up. 

I stared back blankly for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“I guess not.” Mesmer shrugged. “You managed to solve it in there. Good job.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Of course.” Mesmer gestured for me to come closer. “Though I have to ask you, did you not consider what Elsie’s plan could have been?”

I recoiled instinctively, my anger growing. “No.”

“If you had, would it have changed your approach to the trial?”

I was stopped in my tracks. “I… I don’t know.” 

Mesmer stared at me for a few seconds. “That’s fine. I suppose it didn’t really matter, in the end. But it does give pause for thought. You should consider that.”

I exhaled slowly, unsure how to continue with that topic. “I wanted to ask you something. Why did you say all that stuff about Dopple?”

“Oh, that?” Mesmer looked away. “I knew it’d anger you, so that’s why I said it. I can tell you have an attraction to her, and I took advantage of it.”

“Why?” I asked, my cheeks burning. “You just wanted to piss me off in the middle of the trial? It was really disrespectful to Dopple as well!”

“Yes, I’ll admit I probably went further than I should have, but Dopple will understand. As for my reasons, all I can say is that I wanted to test out a theory.” He turned back from the wall and met my gaze. “In the first trial, it was anger that pushed you to discover the truth. When I confronted you on your false hypothesis, I was partly doing so just to keep you in check. But to my surprise, once you were frothing at the bit, your emotional state twisted into knots, you actually pulled through. More than that, you charged headfirst into the problems that came your way and demolished them one by one.

“In the trial just passed, I could tell you were struggling. Bits and pieces had come together but you weren’t able to paint the entire picture. I thought for a moment, waited for an opportunity, and decided to say something that would boil your blood. Once that was done, you tore through the remaining mystery without pause. Interesting, don’t you think?”

I stared back blankly. “So I… I’m a better detective when I’m angry?”

“Maybe not just angry,” Mesmer replied with a small shrug. “That seems rather illogical. It could be the same if you’re distraught, terrified, excited, anything that gets your blood pumping and your heart beating. I suppose there’s still room for experimentation. Being calm and collected has its benefits, but some actually perform better when under duress. Adrenaline rush, perhaps.” Mesmer’s gaze narrowed. “My only concern is that you don’t seem all too distressed by the very real threat of death. Why is that?”

My heart leapt, and in an instant I was transported back to my aunt’s bathroom, the knife between my teeth pointed directly at my foreleg, and the sheer indifference I felt, my utter detachment from the situation, nothing but benign curiosity right up until the split second that death stared me in the face. “I… don’t know.”

“Whatever the reason, guilt isn’t going to help you, but coming to terms with our situation is.” He paused for a moment. “Just out of curiosity, did you know about the chimney?”

“I… thought about it, but it wasn’t relevant to the trial. The rest of the evidence linked up without the need to consider it.”

“I mean the fact that there isn’t one.” Mesmer cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you weren’t aware.”

I held back a frown. “How do you know that?”

“I asked Dopple and Reph after the first trial. They both told me the same thing – there is no chimney on the roof. Quite a bizarre little detail, I must admit.”

“Is that really the truth?”

“Feel free to check with any of the pegasi,” Mesmer said with a shrug. “I’m in no mind to deliberately mislead you. I just think it's somewhat negligent that you didn’t confirm it earlier on. It was one of the reasons I was so accepting of the rec room being used as a meetup point. Poisonous gases are quite simple to make if you mix together certain detergents, which could be dropped in easily to devastating effect. Or you could throw alcohol down onto a roaring fire and set the room ablaze without warning. How fortunate we are then, that neither of those things can happen.”

Almost as if something like that did happen, I mused, and the mastermind was forced to change it. “So then, the smoke is pulled through by some kind of ventilation system?”

“That’s my guess. Though it must be an incredibly complicated setup if we can’t find the exit vent, especially with it being on the upper floor.” He gazed wistfully up at the hotel. “Such an uncanny prospect, isn’t it? Perhaps this building holds many a secret within its walls.” He turned back to me and smiled slyly. “Just so you know, you have no chance of being with Dopple.”

“I know that,” I hastily replied, trying to appear unaffected.

“Not in this place, anyway. We’re trapped in a concrete prison, surrounded by death, trembling in terror that the next pony we talk to could slaughter us.” He inched closer, whispering into my ear. “But if you both escaped, somehow, I think you’d be in with a chance. You might even live happily ever after, like in a foal’s fairytale. But not here. Not like this.” He patted me on the shoulder. “Give it some thought.”

“You’re just trying to mess with me,” I muttered. “Like you always do.”

“I don’t do that anywhere near as often as you seem to think. Don’t forget, I’m the best friend you have in here. No disrespect to Yoko, of course. May he rest in peace.”

“You confuse the hell out of me,” I admitted, feeling neither anger nor comfort in his words. 

“When the time is right, hopefully you’ll understand.” Mesmer backed away, moving towards the hotel. “I’m getting some rest.”

“Wait!” I called. “I just wanted to know, when did you figure out it was Elsie? Did you know before the trial started? Was that why you were cutting the rope, to give me a clue?”

“The rope was meant as much as a clue for you as it was for me. As for your other question, no, I hadn’t figured it out before the trial had started.”

“Then when?”

“Does it really matter now that it’s over? You figured it out and we survived. And while you didn’t realize Elsie’s true intentions, I’m not so sure that matters. Elsie’s plan was full of holes from the beginning.”

“In what way?”

Mesmer shook his head. “I’m not here to answer everything for you, and there are some things I can’t answer. But now that Elsie’s plan has been made public knowledge, it poses an interesting predicament. I’ll be seeing you.” With that, he swiftly walked through the hotel entrance.





I sat for a while at one of the picnic benches, watching as Sanscript scurried in frustration from the MonoMart, followed thereafter by Inky and Dish Panner. I simply remained there, my mind wandering. Finally, I returned to my room. I felt a tinge of disappointment as I lay in bed, a far cry from the elation I felt after the first trial. And I knew why. 

Yoko’s murder held a mystery beyond the mystery, one that I had failed to see, even outright dismissed until the moment Elsie had laid her plans out like blueprints. Mesmer had seen it. Dopple had seen it. I hadn’t. Something needed to be done.


“Look, I know you probably don’t like to hear it, but you came here as The Ultimate Nobody. But so what? I was a nobody until I found sumo. I had nothing else going for me, who knows what I’d have ended up doing? So it’s the same for you, okay? The only real difference between us is that you’ve not been exposed to your true calling, whatever it is.”



“Really, what do you have to lose?”


Don’t worry, Yoko. Next time, I’ll do better, no matter what. Next time… even they won’t see it coming. 




Remaining participants: 11



Doctor Lancet Scalpel



Yoko Zuna [DECEASED]



Pinkie Pie [DECEASED]



Sanscript



Dish Panner



Shetland Yard [DECEASED]



Button Mash



Cube Rick [DECEASED]



Dopple Ganger



Ink Slinger



Copper Fields



Mesmer



Antonio Rephael



Elsie De Pone [DECEASED]



Maribelle Cheval-Gelding



Greyscale

> Patience
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You had us so worried!” Serenity cried, embracing her only son as he came in through the door. “We were just about to search for you!”

Patience relayed his sorrowful story, his face full of tears. He wanted to know why those colts would treat him in such ways, why they would forsake him for no reason he could see. 

“There are some who turn to darkness,” Persistence said, trying to assure his son. “But they will eventually turn to the light.”

“Yes,” Serenity added. “You must forgive them and move on with your head up high. Sol will do the rest and see to it that we all achieve our destiny.”

Patience wasn’t pleased by his parents’ answers. He wanted them to grow infuriated, to sound off and strive to slay his attackers, to become imbued with the fires of rage and strike them down with infinite malice. His parents could see he was still distressed, and tried to reason with him. 

“You will understand in time,” Persistence said. “Sol has a plan for us all, and nothing happens by accident. What one day may seem a curse may soon reveal itself as a blessing. Sometimes we cannot learn the easy way, and sometimes our experiences – both good and bad – allow us to grow.”

“Think of it like the sugarcanes,” Serenity added. “If all was left up to you, surely you would eat your fill, neglecting the vast array of fruits and plants that offer essential nutrition, and gorge on sugarcanes. In the end you would become sick. Only through knowledge beyond your own and a sense of discipline have you learned the truth, that all must be taken in moderation. Through those trials you have become better. And when we do finally feast upon the sugar canes, it is a celebration. Each bite tasting all the better because those moments are scarce.”

Patience nodded, saying that he understood. He had heard this all before, and supposed that he could wait for Sol’s plan to come to fruition. But still, the words of the colts plagued him, and he set out to prove them wrong, that he could learn how to use magic. And so, he focused and strained while in his room, trying to move a pencil with his mind. He would go on until the early hours of the morning, waking in a sweat as his parents called him down for school. The pencil hadn’t moved.

Over the next few weeks, Patience would suffer a life of fear and disappointment. He would come face to face with the colts again and again, their words mocking, their smiles cutting into his soul. How they laughed, such joy they felt at his failures, and how others began to join in, smiling beside them, whispering and giggling. 

“Sol has a plan for you,” Patience proudly said one day. “One day you will learn the error of your ways.”

To this the colts grew vicious. They would steal his belongings, scribble hurtful words on his desk, douse him in water and, worst of all, throw him into brambles and bushes. 

“Is this part of Sol’s plan?” they would tease. “She must really want you to suffer.”

Then Patience would get home and try and try to lift the pencil, for a single spark of magic. As he understood, this was his challenge. This was his trial. It was as clear as day to him that once he succeeded, they would admit their wrongs and he would be free from the torment. This was why he stopped telling his mother and father, why he didn’t alert the teachers. This was his battle, and once it was over, they would suffer such wrath that they would bear a torture beyond what he had lived through. That, Patience felt, was the obvious conclusion. And so he waited. He was very good at that.

One fateful night, Patience lifted the pencil. It shot up to the ceiling and thundered like a firework as a divine white light erupted from his horn. He lifted it again, flew it like a bird, and trampled to his parents’ room, bouncing with glee. “Mother! Father! I have done it!”

There was much jubilation. The family feasted on sugarcanes as Patience played with his new ability, feeling as if he were on top of the world. 

“A pure white light like that of Sol,” Serenity said. 

For the first time in what felt like forever, Patience could hardly wait to face the new day. Sol’s plan had come to pass, and he could finally prove the colts wrong. Their laughter would turn to groans and screams, and he would rise triumphant. 

But that was not to be. Patience strode up to them after class, chest puffed out with pride. He picked at a tulip from a nearby flowerbed and floated it in front of them. “There, you see? I have achieved my goal. You can all stop bullying me now.”

The three colts exchanged a glance. One was about to laugh when the other kicked at his heel, shaking his head. “You’re right,” he said. “We don’t have to bully you ever again.”

Patience beamed from ear to ear. 

“Now we get to be your friends,” the colt continued, winking at the others. “Come on, let’s go have fun together.”

Patience was confused. Was this his reward? It didn’t make sense. He didn’t want to be their friends.

“What’s wrong?” one of them asked. “We’ve learned our lesson and wish to appease you. May you spend time with us so we can get to know each other?”

“It’s part of Sol’s plan,” another said.

When Patience heard this, his ears pricked up. He wanted to know of Sol’s plan. The colts’ torture wasn’t to be, but something else surely was. Curiosity got the better of him and he gladly accepted their offer. They led him to a stream.

“There are fish in there,” one said. “Try and grab them with your magic.”

“I don’t see any,” Patience said, peering into the murky green water. 

“You need to get closer. It’s for your training, so you can become stronger.”

“Stronger?” Patience pondered on this. It reflected everything his parents had taught him. Weakness was just a precursor to greatness. This was how the trials worked, how the basis of Sol’s plan directed the flow of life and the world. For even these three colts to understand these concepts meant they were surely disciples. Patience shuffled down the bank, slipping his hooves into pits along the soil.

“Closer,” one of the colts said. 

Patience did so but struggled to see a single fish. “Are you sure there are even fish that swim in here?”

“Of course. It’s a stream, isn’t it? This is where fish live. A keen eye will be able to spot them.”

The task seemed to grow odder as Patience descended step by step, almost reaching the algae-laden brook. “I’m worried I’ll fall in.”

“Don’t worry about that,” one of the colts said, stepping down towards him. “If you go to fall, I’ll pull you back.”

“Oh, thank you,” Patience replied gratefully, and turned back to the stream. He thought he could see the flicker of a minnow when all of a sudden he was sent tumbling into the turbid water. In a panic, he tried taking in a gulp of air, accidentally swallowing water as he did so. He fell onto coarse, jagged rocks that pierced and gnawed at his skin. His eyes stung and his lungs ached. He scrambled to his hooves, dragging himself onto land and retching violently. But all he could hear was the shrill laughter of the three colts behind him.

“I can’t believe he fell for it!” one said, clutching at his chest.

“He’s such a fool!” another cried. “The way he totally trusted you!”

“Why?” Patience croaked. Nothing made sense. He had passed his test. He had lifted the pencil, just as they had mocked him for not being capable! He was due his reward! 

“Why?” the leader parroted, putting on a high-pitched voice. “Why don’t you ask Sol?”

“Yeah, maybe your reward is under the water!”

Patience flew into a rage, charging at one of them as fast as he could, trying to impale him with his horn. But the colt foresaw this and stepped aside, grabbing Patience by the neck and hurling him back towards the stream, Patience landing hard on his back and rolling down the bank until he hit the water. 

“Did you see that?” the one colt called out. “He tried to stab me.”

“You listen here, you little weakling,” another said, stepping towards Patience and stomping a hoof on the side of his head, pinning him to the dirt. “You need to know your place. Maybe that’s what Sol’s lesson is.” He pressed harder as Patience squirmed underneath, tears in his eyes. “Her plan makes sense to me. You’re supposed to learn that you’re nothing, that you’re a nobody. Don’t ever think you can take us on.”

Patience wailed, soil in his teeth, aches and pains stretching across his body. “What am I supposed to do?” he cried.

“I’ve got one,” the colt whispered into his ear. He stood back up and gestured to the other two. “You see, the three of us, we get hungry at school. We’re all so big and strong, we need our vitamins and minerals. But our poor, poor parents can’t buy enough food for us. Isn’t that a tragedy? If you can feed us, every day, all this can stop.”

“Yes!” Patience cried. “Anything for it to stop!”

“Excellent!” the colt exclaimed. “Looks like we’ll be having our fill from now on!” The other two cheered. “Now, starting tomorrow, you need to follow through. Do you promise? Do you swear with all your heart? Do you swear in the name of Sol?”

“Yes! Yes! I promise!” Patience screamed, sobbing through bloodshot eyes. After this, he was left alone to wallow in despair. Patience was supposed to be home soon, but he lay in the dirt just as the rain began to fall. He was beyond devastation, looking up to the clouds, wanting and waiting for Sol to guide him. Through his blurred vision he thought he saw a sign. Patience got up and began walking.

There was a forest nearby that Patience knew of. He’d been told by his mother that there were wild animals that lived inside. Some of them were dangerous. Some of them could even kill. Patience wondered if there were wolves. He knew wolves had gnashing teeth that could rip and tear. He knew they traveled in packs. A pack of wolves could definitely kill a young colt, but that was what Patience wanted. 

He had been told of a wonderful place that everybody would go to when they died. Luscious fields teeming with life and orchard upon orchard of the sweetest fruits as far as the eye could see. The leaves would shimmer and swirl in every color of the rainbow, and each sunset would be more beautiful than the last. There was no pain, no sorrow, only happiness. And Sol was there, great Sol, wonderful Sol, and they would all bask in her magnificence. Trudging through the dense undergrowth of the forest as light began to fade, Patience felt as if that paradise was right around the corner, hidden in the maw of a wild beast. 

However, it was not wolves that would come to greet him. Nor was it any kind of wild beast. It was a chance encounter that would change Patience’s life forever, one that would set in motion a series of events that nobody could have predicted. Patience saw a figure amongst the trees, one that stood above him, rattling and scratching and pawing at the earth. It was a bear, Patience supposed, and approached it without caution. Whatever was to happen would be up to Sol. But as Patience grew near, the beast turned on its heel with tremendous speed, staring Patience dead in the eyes. 

“What are you doing here, little one?” the beast asked.

Patience was startled. As his vision focused, he realized that the shambling creature that wore the colors of the forest, all draped in leaves and twigs, was a unicorn stallion. “I came to meet my end,” Patience replied. “Do you know where the wolves lie?”

“That I do, but such knowledge is not meant for you.”

“Please, you must!”

“I forbid it, my child. I too once sought to meet my end, but life did not permit it. And now 

 


That’s how it was for me, I thought as I listened to the gentle voice, wandering through my dreamscape.



 


I permit myself to stop you from taking that path. Come, my child. You are hurt. Blessed you must be to find me here. Perhaps it is fate that brought us together.”

“Fate?” Patience remarked. “Should it not be my fate to see to my eternal rest?”

The stallion appeared to weep. “Such a cruel world. I refuse to grant you that wish. I have lived long, and I have seen more than you can imagine. Through time grows wisdom, and I have seen the ways of this world. I will not let you die today. Come, I will cleanse your wounds.” In years to come, the stallion would regret this decision more than any that had come to pass. He would wish with all his heart that he had led Patience to the wolves and seen to it that the colt had been slaughtered like a lamb, his flesh feasted upon and lost to the world, his bones ground to dust. 

Patience ached and bled, and soon obliged this kind stranger his wish. The stallion led him to a thatched hut that lay shrouded by foliage. He introduced himself as Meddik and claimed to be a sage from a time long passed. He inspected Patience’s ailments with great deliberation. With a flash of his horn he began his somber chant, and Patience felt a warm glow pass over his body, as if he were submerged in bubbling tar that refused to burn. The gushing of blood ground to a halt and his skin began to weave itself like seamless patchwork. His bruises subsided, their color draining like a painting dipped in acetone. The pain in his joints dulled and he flexed each leg in amazement. Meddik instructed him to drink from a soup made of mottled leaves and herbs, and within seconds Patience doubled over and relieved his stomach of the algae-infested water that he had swallowed earlier. 

Meddik began to sway and clutched at his head. “That is as much as I can do for you, my child. You should be careful from now on.”

Patience felt as if he had been born anew. “I am so grateful, but tell me, why do you dwell in the forest if you are capable of such things?”

“I am not welcome in society. It is a long story, and I do not wish to tell it. You must go now. Do not speak of me to anyone, and do not come back here.”

Patience was confused. “But why? You have done so much for me. I do not feel the need to reach paradise as I did before.”

“I saved you as you were headed down the path of ultimate ruin. You must strive to live a good life and not squander what you have. Now go.”

Patience saw an opportunity. “I wish for you to teach me, so that I can learn to heal as you do.”

“Such an innocent child. Do you truly crave such power? The road to it is not an easy one.”

Patience pleaded. “I will try and try! I will do my best!”

Meddik wept once more. “Perhaps you can do good where I have failed. Such brightness I see in you, but also much fear. I cannot teach one who is afflicted as such.”

“Then I shall banish my fear! This must be Sol’s plan. I have suffered such that I gain fear, and now I must overcome it. This is my test – I can feel it!”

“I do not know. I cannot promise you anything, but please, you must leave now, before the sun sets.”

Patience left that place and followed the glowing orbs that Meddik lit to guide his way, a spring in his step. It was the start of Patience’s journey towards his destiny. 

“What are those, mother?” Patience asked a while later, after returning home. His mother was knitting a scarf for Mercy.

“These?” Serenity said, holding the items aloft. “They’re knitting needles. You’ve seen them before, Patience.”

“I would like to learn,” Patience announced. “After all, I can do magic now.”

“It is very difficult,” Serenity warned. “It requires a lot of practice.”

“But I want to!”

“Can you lift the needles and make a cross? I can help with the yarn.”

Patience shook his head. “But those are your knitting needles, mother. I can learn with my own, and you can show me. We can do it together!”

Serenity was taken aback. It was unlike Patience to ask for gifts or to show interest in such things. “First, you must show me that you are willing. Here, take my needles and wrap the wool in the pattern as I tell you.”

Patience did as he was asked. As easy as it had looked, his mother was right, and Patience failed with each attempt. Serenity assumed his resignation and brought the needles back to herself, but Patience protested. 

“Please, mother! It will just take time! Do you remember how I struggled to even lift a single pencil, yet now my magic flows with ease?”

“You surprise me, Patience. Do you feel as if you have something to prove? You know your father and I will love you all the same, forever and always.”

“I simply wish to do as you do, mother.”

Persistence had been listening quietly. “We can indulge him this once,” he said. “There are worse things for him to grow enamored with, are there not?”

And so, the very next day Patience joined his mother in the marketplace at the purveyors of linen and twine. Oh, how the mares remarked at the young colt’s passion as he danced about with gleeful anticipation. “Wait a moment, mother. What about Mercy? I want her to receive the same gift as I do. It would be unfair otherwise.”

“You care a lot for your sister,” Serenity said as the others smiled and crooned. “But this would give our house six

 


“Which six?”



“I can’t possibly tell you that.”



 


knitting needles. Do we truly need so many? Mercy is not a unicorn, may I remind you. She won’t be able to do as we do.”

Patience looked sad. “She would feel left out. I don’t want that to happen. I do so love her dearly.”

Serenity was convinced. She hugged her son and granted his wish. Now the house held six knitting needles.

 


---Why would it---



---So that means---



---Ha ha ha---



 


Six. It was the exact amount that was required. Patience felt his spirits leap. 

The next day, Patience was confronted by

 


I slowly opened my eyes, the walls of my room coming into focus and the tiny aches from my joints and tendons becoming real once again. 



 


the same three colts from before. This was expected, and Patience was prepared. He had taken some floury rolls of peppered bread from the pantry and wrapped them

 


I stretched out my limbs and flipped over my pillow, feeling the comforting sheet of ice against my cheek. The remnants of my dream hadn’t quite subsided, which I thought both funny and strange.


in thick reed leaves. They were presented as gifts, Patience drifting them delicately into each of their open hooves. “My mother baked these,” he said proudly. 

“Wipe that smile from your face,” the leader said. “It’s creepy.”

Patience did as he was told. “I’m sorry. I thought that’s what you’d want.”

“We just want the food,” one of the others said. “Don’t act all friendly. Do you want to take another trip down to the stream?”

Patience shook his head, terrified. He wasn’t ready to face another punishment, and Sol agreed, sending the colts away with their prize. Patience had survived

 


My eyes drew open and surveyed the room. I sat up and reflexively rubbed at my temple.


 

for one more day and needed to get to work as quickly as possible. On top of his current dilemma, he also had to focus on his studying, which was the first major lesson he had learned. It was a lot of pressure, but Patience felt as if

 


The voices weren’t subsiding. I shook my head and clapped my fore-hooves together. The resounding plok was crystal clear. 



 


he had no choice. There was a definite path before him, and even if every stride was a struggle, he would gladly welcome

 


“Hello?” I said aloud. There was no answer, just the gentle, velvety voice that continued on.



 


every step. 

Serenity was enamored with her son’s newfound passion for life. His sister, Mercy, was seemingly caught up in the fervor as well, and trailed her brother,

 


I pinched at my skin. As expected, I was completely and absolutely wide awake. I emitted a faint yelp, as if that would interrupt the voice. I had no such luck.



 


whatever he did. The family was miraculously pulled together even more, with Persistence and Serenity neglecting their timid suspicions and reveling in their foals’ joy. 

When it 

 


I suddenly became incredibly afraid. I sprang from my bed and held my hooves to my ears. Nothing. No such luck. “The earpieces!” I cried.



 


came to Patience’s knitting skills, he was progressing slowly. Basic manipulation of a single object was now easy for him, but knitting was a complex affair, requiring

 


The hairs on my back stood on end. The walls were closing in. I felt as if a ghost were lurking at my side, ready to snatch me away to the underworld, and that my life in this room was just an illusion. “Why are you doing this!?” I cried to no-one, to everyone.



 


precise movements and tremendous care. “Once you pull the yarn through you can pull back the needle and transfer the stitch over.”

“Yes, mother,” Patience would say, each stitch forming another

 


I filled the bathroom sink with water and submerged my head. Still, the voice continued, unfettered by every attempt I made to subdue it. No distortion, no change in pitch or volume. It was maddening beyond belief. 



 


grain of sand that would eventually fill his soul and fulfil his façade. For he soon became allowed, and with little resistance, to practice his skills alone, or in Mercy’s company. His junior, the filly wouldn’t question the unorthodox techniques he would practice

 


I had to go. I couldn’t stand it a second longer. I burst from my room, half-expecting the dome to be deserted and for me to be trapped with a gentle and demonic voice at my side for the rest of my days. I turned a corner to find others gathered, and I breathed a sigh of relief. 



 


away from their parents.

“It’s going to be a surprise,” Patience said as he twirled the needles like batons above their heads, losing his grip, then trying again and again, in what Mercy could only perceive as a game. He would, of course, deign

 


“Grey? What’s wrong?” Copper asked. She, Mesmer, Dish Panner and Reph were stood in the hallway, fiddling about with Reph’s door, a set of tools at their hooves.



“Can’t you hear that!?” I exclaimed.



“Hear what?” Mesmer asked, peering to one side.



“That voice!” I screamed.



They said nothing, merely exchanging puzzled expressions and staring on at me worriedly.



 


to improve his knitting to an acceptable degree so as to avoid suspicion. For Patience had witnessed his mother fashion all manner of garments without a single shred of interest in the craft, and that had not changed. It was merely a means to an end. 

Patience continued to provide

 


“No.” I shook my head in disbelief. “No! You can’t tell me none of you hear that!”



“Greyscale, calm down,” Dish Panner hushed, approaching me with slight apprehension. “Just take a deep breath and explain it to us.”



“The earpieces!” I cried. “I… I can hear something!”



“Monobunny?” Copper remarked. At this point, I wasn’t sure if I could hear them, or if I was lip-reading.



“No, someone else,” I replied, desperately taking a deep breath, as if I’d forgotten to breathe all morning. “I don’t recognize the voice.”



 


food for the three colts. He altered his tact, approaching them in secluded groves and acting with dutiful reverence. They did not appreciate his smiles. He took care of that. They did not appreciate a lack of terror. He took care of that.

 


I darted downstairs, almost tripping and falling in a heap, the others calling out to me from above. I had to find an answer. I couldn’t go on like this. If the voice never stopped then…



I was trembling all over as I rushed towards the lobby.



 


He saw them, at one point, disposing of the treats he had offered them, chuckling to themselves as they buried his gifts among sawdust and grass clippings. Patience had figured as much, that they might think he would attempt

 


I burst through the door, scrabbling for the service bell as if my life depended on it. I hammered on it furiously, pleading for it to drown out the tale I was being subjected to.



“Monobunny! I know you’re here somewhere!”



 


to poison them with vile mixtures or rotten fruit. Patience did nothing of the sort. It would’ve interfered with his plans – with Sol’s plans. 

Weeks flew by. Although Serenity and Persistence had shown some minor concern

 


“Monobunny! I mean it!” I yelled. The right-side hallway door opened and I darted forward expectantly, only for Mesmer to step through, almost bumping into me.



“Greyscale, tell me what’s happening!” he ordered. “What voices? What are they saying to you?” Copper, Dish Panner and Reph followed.



“Get me Monobunny!” I cried, on the verge of tears.



 


about the whereabouts of missing food supplies, Patience had been able to avoid further investigation, claiming he’d developed a terrific hunger.

“I suppose you are a growing colt,” Persistence had commented, ruffling Patience’s mane, and nothing else was said. 

Finally, 

 


“I’m right here, you dolt!” Monobunny said as he entered from the door opposite. “Sheesh, do you need to make such a racket?”



“You!” I blared, charging towards him, only to be held back by Copper and Mesmer.



“Grey, don’t do it!” Copper cried. “You know what’ll happen if you attack him!”



“W-what’s gotten into him!?” Reph exclaimed.



 


the day came when Patience knew he was ready. He had practiced and planned, observed and deduced, waited with bated breath. His school satchel was just large enough to conceal six wooden knitting needles, neatly wrapped together inside a bundle of dock leaves. After providing the three colts with their food for the day – a shiny red apple each – he followed them,

 


I tried to wrestle free, but to no avail. I stared, seething at the maniacal rabbit’s face, wanting to see it demolished and smeared across the walls.



“Wow, just look at his eyes! He’s furious!” Monobunny put a paw to his chest and screeched with laughter. “Getting mad about the killing game isn’t going to bring anyone back, you know.”



“I know you’re doing this!” I spat. “Now make it stop!”



 


keeping to the shadows and making delicate hoof-steps, trailing them along the riverbank as they joked and cheered and bragged, their eyes to the dirt and their minds in the clouds. Other foals avoided them, and they rejected the rule of adults, so it was soon that they walked on alone, unaware of their stalker’s presence.

 


“Make what stop? The killing game? Shout and holler all you like but–”



“No, stop that voice!” I commanded. “I know you’re making it come through the earpieces!”



Monobunny tilted his head. “Voice? Earpieces?”



“Don’t play dumb!”



 


They descended a slope and crowded around a pond, hurling rocks and twigs at the creatures below. Patience was cautious. He would only get one chance. He procured the six knitting needles

 


Monobunny scratched his chin for a moment, appearing genuinely perplexed. “Greyscale, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m not sending any messages to anyone’s earpieces right now.” His tone was calm and sincere.



“Then how do you explain it!?”



“Eh, maybe you’re going loco! This place will do that sort of thing, you know!”



Mesmer pulled my face closer to his. “Greyscale, tell me if you’re just making this up. I want you to be one hundred percent honest with me.”



“I’m not making it up!”



 


from his satchel and took position behind an oak tree, the needles floating far above them. Then he lowered them down in pairs, taking a deep breath. The magic was about to happen.

 


“Well there’s nothing being said through the earpieces, capiche?”



 


With grace and care, his heart abuzz,

The spokes of fate were thus aligned,

 


“You’re lying!”



 


So Patience did as Patience does,

 


“Grey, you’re scaring me!”



 


Plunged through their eyes and made them blind. 

 


“And who the hell is Patience!?”



 


The voice stopped. I gasped for air. I was finally free. I slumped against the wall with a sigh of relief, cradling my head. All else was silent. Monobunny stood stock still, his usual lithe form turned to stone. “So?” I asked. “Tell me.”

Nothing.

My care for the answer behind my torture was rapidly diminishing. I was just glad it was over. I propped myself up, ready to walk back to my dorm.

“How do you know that name?”

“Hmm?” I shook my head drearily. “Like I said, the voice.”

“You shouldn’t know that name!” Monobunny staggered backwards. His voice was filled with absolute terror. “This makes no sense. How could you…?” Without another word, Monobunny turned and fled. 

“Wait,” I muttered, my heart suddenly bursting into action. My instincts took over and I chased after him, slamming open the door and launching a confetti of splinters and paint. The fear was back. “Monobunny! What are you talking about!?”

The rabbit was just up ahead, moving quickly, but erratically. He pinballed off the skirting boards like he was running blind. “Just shut it… Shut it all down!”


*DING DONG DONG DING*


“Attention all killing game participants! As of right now, the killing game has been put on hold. All murder is now off limits until further notice.”

I sped along as fast as I could manage. Up ahead, a wooden panel shifted along mechanically, revealing a hidden passage. Monobunny leapt inside, the panel falling back into place just as I met its surface and came crashing down. I beat at the wood with a whirlwind of hooves, my head spinning, my joints aching, and my heart quivering. It took several minutes for the others to curb my assault, after which I burst into tears against Mesmer’s shoulder.
> Outside The Cage
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Here, drink this.”

I meekly cradled the bottle of water and took in half a mouthful. “Thanks.”

“Are you feeling any better?” 

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Mesmer frowned slightly, his eyes wandering. “Alright.”

Since my outburst, a group of us had moved to the dining room. Despite some effort, any attempts to reopen the secret passage used by Monobunny had proved fruitless, though there were whispers of using crowbars to pry it open. Upon wishing to summon Monobunny once again, Reph had discovered that the service bell was missing. I had expected as much. 

Mesmer and Dopple had taken to either side of me, trying to calm me down. Lancet, Inky and Button were sat at another table while Reph, Dish Panner and Sanscript collected some supplies. Since the killing game had been put on hold, it had been decided to hold a dinner meeting. Nobody was sure where Maribelle or Copper were. 

Despite having slept for a few extra hours that day, I was exhausted. Nothing made sense anymore. My head was spinning trying to connect the dots. After some questioning, it became clear that nobody else had heard a voice inside their head. The same theory was considered – it had been sent through my earpieces – but Monobunny’s words had been loud and clear, and there were several witnesses. Either Monobunny had been lying, something that would burn any last shred of hope or logic to dust, or something else had happened, something that not even Monobunny could have predicted. There had been no mistaking the fear in his voice. 

“You’re not going to like this,” Mesmer said, tapping me on the shoulder, “but it’s necessary. Doctor?” He gestured for Lancet to come over. “Could I borrow you for a moment?” 

“I’ll do what I can,” she replied.

“Good. Now, while I know this isn’t necessarily your area of expertise, do you have any knowledge of auditory hallucinations?”

“I didn’t imagine it!” I snapped. 

“Greyscale,” Dopple cooed, holding onto my hoof. “Don’t fight this. We’re just trying to eliminate the possibility.”

“I’m afraid I know relatively little,” Lancet said sadly. “Sufferers tend to have underlying psychological issues such as schizophrenia or bipolar disorder. I’ve no idea if they can be triggered by high levels of stress. Have you ever experienced this before?”

“Not before coming to the dome, no,” I answered. “There was the time just after the first trial, but I thought I was dreaming. This time, I heard the voice while I was dreaming and as I woke up.”

“I see,” Lancet replied, frowning. “I’m afraid I can’t say anything definitive.”

“Oh, come on!” Button exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “It’s obviously the earpieces!”

“So Monobunny was lying?” Inky asked.

“Why would that mean he’s lying?” Button replied, folding his forelegs. “Didn’t Mesmer get Monobunny to admit there was a group of ‘em before? Who knows if someone got a hold of the microphone or whatever without him knowing, and blurted a bunch of stuff to Greyscale for a prank or something? Maybe that’s why he called off the killing game, once he realized one of their own guys broke the rules. Makes sense if you ask me.”

“We can’t simply jump to conclusions,” Mesmer said. “Just because something makes sense, doesn’t necessarily mean it’s true.”

Button threw his hooves up and adopted a ghostly, mocking tone. “Ooh, we cannot know for sure, there is still so much we don’t know, we should consider all ten billion possibilities, then decide upon nothing, how rational and intelligent I am, ooh!” He lolled his head back against his seat, gazing into space with an expression of disinterest. “I’m super sure that mindset will get us far.”

“You’re taking what I said completely the wrong way,” Mesmer retorted, sounding more disappointed than annoyed. 

“Button, you’re being rather hypocritical,” Dopple said. “After all, weren’t you the one who posed the possibilities of having false memories, or being in a virtual world?”

Button recoiled as if suffering a sudden bee sting. “You remember that!? Oh, come on, that’s hardly fair! Waking up in a weird place with weirdo ponies, being watched by cameras all day every day, making friends with a super-hot babysitter in a maid outfit who happens to be an innocent virgin, being part of a killing game run by a psychopathic rabbit like something from a Japonies visual novel… Who wouldn’t question reality?”

“He does have a point,” Mesmer remarked with a shrug. “These are unrealistic circumstances. Perhaps even more so than we give it credit for.”

“Whatever the case,” Lancet interrupted with, “and whatever the reason for it, I think we all owe Greyscale some thanks. Because of him, the threat of murder has been lifted.”

“I’m not sure I deserve any thanks,” I said wearily. 

Lancet shook her head. “It doesn’t matter whether or not it was intentional on your part. You have given us a ray of hope, and that isn’t something to be squandered.”

“Yeah, she’s got a point,” Inky chimed in with, her grin widening. “Now we don’t need to keep tabs on all the stuff in the MonoMart or worry about who’s left with who. We can walk around without a care in the world!”

“You’re both idiots,” Button said, sighing. “First of all, the announcement said the killing game is on hold. That means temporarily. You can bet it’ll be back soon enough.”

“Better than nothing,” Inky said with a shrug.

“Secondly, Doctor, what ray of hope are you even talking about? Honest question.”

“Well, isn’t it obvious?” Lancet replied. “An end to the killings.”

“Alright, and where does that leave us!?” Button snarled. “The killings end, and… then what? Happiness all around, whoop-de-do! All our problems have been solved! Is that really what you think!?”

“Button, calm down,” Dopple said. 

“Why? It’s because you know what I’m going to say, isn’t it? Anyone with half a brain must have figured it out by now.” Button fell back into his seat. “The killing game is the only ray of hope we’ve got if we want to see our friends and family ever again. And even if the killing game was over for good, do you really think the sickos running this place would keep us fed forever and ever?”

“Button, stop it,” Dopple demanded.

“That’s right, we’ll all be left fighting over scraps and going crazy. End of the killing game? Not when every mouth to feed is a new enemy. So the killings continue! Or we all starve to death. Unless we can escape, that is. And just what are the chances of th–”

Inky forced a hoof over Button’s mouth just as Dopple had sprung to her hooves. “You’re a real grumpy-guts, you know that?” Inky chided. “Simmer down with some warm milk and cookies, or something.” The colt struggled to break free but the mare held him firmly. “Oh no you don’t!” she said playfully. The two continued to tussle just as the other party returned, carrying supplies. 

“Back to normal already,” Dish Panner muttered, shaking her head as she waltzed into the kitchen. “It’s not as if two ponies died this morning, I suppose. I wonder who’s next? I brought a knife, by the way.” The door slammed shut.

“S-sorry about her,” Reph said with a faint grimace. “She’s not taking Elsie’s p-passing very lightly.”

“Joy to the world,” Mesmer replied.







“It feels indecent to be doing this,” Sanscript mused as he dipped a whole-wheat roll into his soup, eyeing it with some concern. Its color and consistency reminded me of Elsie’s end. “We sit here and eat as our numbers dwindle as if it were the most normal occurrence in the world.”

“Personally,” Lancet began, “I think it’s best we continue to live as we normally would. At least, within reason. We mustn’t let ourselves be dragged down.”

“I understand, I agree.” Sanscript took a meagre bite from his roll. “And yet, I almost feel I should rebel against my own sense of logic and morality. A curious feeling.”

“Come on now!” Reph called out, his eyes darting around, few meeting his gaze. “W-we made progress today! Didn’t we?” He looked expectantly at Mesmer. 

“You’re right,” Mesmer replied stonily, gesturing with a hoof. “Perhaps you can go on and explain, for the rest of us.”

“M-me!?” Reph balked.

“You’re as capable as anyone. I trust you.” Mesmer went back to his meal.

“Ah! R-right!” Reph stood up, ruffling his wings. “It s-seems to me we’ve been given an opportunity! As you may be aware, one of Monobunny’s secret p-passages has been found hidden in one of the walls! A-and since one of his rules is that, well, w-we can try to escape however much we want, we w-wouldn’t be breaking the rules by using it to escape, s-so, um… I assume you get what I’m saying.”

“It’s a ray of light, indeed,” Lancet commended. “We should…”

I zoned out, not really paying attention to anything as the conversation continued. We could escape, sure, great chance of that. Of course not. A cynical response from guess who. As expected. It all became background noise. I was much more interested in the way Dopple had been holding onto my hoof for quite some time. It was surprisingly soft. I wanted to curl my forelegs around it and rest my nuzzle on her shoulder, but I knew it would be too much for her. She was above me, in more ways than one. But I appreciated what I had. Which was almost nothing.

I wanted to understand. Patience, Patience, Patience, rattled around my head over and over. I recounted the story. Not much more than the tale of a colt committing violent revenge against a group of bullies. In another time, if I hadn’t been so terrified that I would be hounded by an unstoppable, maddening voice, I might’ve rooted for him. Plunged through their eyes and made them blind. I wondered for a moment if there were any knitting needles in the dome. Pretty imaginative for a little colt. It had to be just a story. But even then, with nobody, not even Monobunny – the overseer of the killing game – able to say why I would even hear it… I was lost in a mire of fog without a hint of logic with which to hook the mystery. I wanted something more. After failing to uncover Elsie’s true intentions, I needed the thrill of a surmountable challenge. 

At the same time, I hated myself for thinking this way. A miracle had landed in my lap. I had been torn away from my life of drudgery, what was now but a distant, yet eternal existence of obscurity and pointlessness. I now had something worth living for. I had others worth living for. 

You mean Yoko? 

No, not anymore. I don’t want him brought up.

Murders and companions! Can’t have both!

Fully aware of that. 

Well then, better stop her soon before she does something stupi–

I jolted my head with a start. The others were still talking about an escape plan, but I had another, more pressing issue. I leaned across to Mesmer and whispered in his ear. “Why isn’t Copper here?”

Mesmer frowned. “Not now,” he whispered back.

“Why not?”

He sighed “For your sake, I’m not going to say it in front of the others. You are going to sit and wait until we can have a moment of privacy.” He leaned back, flashing me an expression of utmost solemnity. 

I did as I was told, my heart bobbing in a vat of terror. Waiting while everyone came to their predictable, foregone, hopeless decision. 

“Then it’s decided,” Lancet announced. “We take whatever tools we can from the MonoMart that might reveal other secret passageways and do everything in our power to break out of this dome!”

“You hear that?” Inky said, smiling at Sanscript. “We work together and you won’t have to put up with me anymore, just like you wanted. Unless of course, you’re ready to stop being a grumpy groucher.” 

“No comment,” Sanscript retorted, already out of his seat. 

There was some more fussing, some eye-rolling on Dish Panner’s part, Button growing emotional and doing his best to hide it. That was it, this was over, and I needed the truth. 

“Mesmer, now.”

Once on our own in the kitchen, Mesmer opened up immediately. “As far as I’m aware, Copper’s in her room. She fled just after your spat with Monobunny.”

My heart jolted. “Why? I mean, I… thought she was my friend.”

“In all likelihood, she thinks you’re the spy.” Mesmer sighed. “I don’t know that for certain, but it makes sense. We all know about the earpieces now, and just like Elsie said, there’s nothing to stop Monobunny or anyone else outside the dome from co-operating with the spy and sending them secret messages. More than that, it’s the most logical conclusion.”

I grimaced, burying my face onto the kitchen worktop. It was exactly what I had expected. Still, I was ready to deny it at every step. “But you know I’m not the spy!”

“I never said that,” Mesmer replied. “I said you were near the bottom of my list of suspects. But that’s beside the point.”

“Okay, answer me this. If I’m the spy, and I was getting sent weird messages through my earpieces or whatever, why would they send me something that makes me go crazy and start shouting about hearing voices? Wouldn’t that just make me look more suspicious? Why would they do that if the point of the spy is to infiltrate without being found out? And no matter the case, even Monobunny didn’t know what the hell was going on, and he shut down the killing game. Why do that to the spy and make them stand out?”

“If we followed every line of logic to reach that conclusion, we’d be here all day,” Mesmer said gruffly. “I don’t know what the point would be. Who’s to say that the game master would actually want the spy to have special treatment and to ensure their safety? Monobunny already said he wouldn’t do a thing to stop any of us if we were to threaten the life of the spy.”

In a flash, I felt cold steel press against my neck, Mesmer’s horn glowing. The knife Dish Panner had used was now mere microns from ending my life, its blade carrying the sweet-smelling remnants of chopped vegetables. “Mesmer, what are you doing?”

“I could kill you right now,” Mesmer said, his eyes peering into my soul. “Maybe that’s what the mastermind wants. Perhaps the spy is due to be punished for an act of reckless rebellion.” The blade pressed even harder. I almost stopped breathing. “Or it could be that the spy has been deemed worthless in the wake of Elsie’s revelation being exposed? Those are just two reasons from the top of my head.”

“The killing game has been put on hold,” I said, trembling. “No murders allowed or you’ll be punished, remember?”

Mesmer returned the knife to the chopping board with the utmost nonchalance. “That was the correct response. As for you being the spy, if anything, this new turn of events has actually made me suspect you even less. I can’t say the same for everyone else, though. I’d imagine their suspicions have only grown stronger.”

“Don’t just threaten to slit my throat and then act like nothing happened!” I blared. 

“It was merely to prove a point,” Mesmer said with a shrug. “Just forget about it. I thought we came in here to talk about Copper, after all.”

“You really enjoy toying with others,” I huffed, considering for a moment whether I should return the favour and jam the knife into his jugular. “But fine. Copper thinks I’m the spy. Why would she hide herself away like this?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you. I assume you weren’t in the right state to notice, but she didn’t react too lightly after what happened. Can you think why?”

I bit my lip. “You’ve given me one shred of hope that there was someone here I could trust, who had my back…” 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Mesmer said. “I can tell you’ve figured it out.”

I leapt forward and grabbed Mesmer by the hoof. “Come with me. Now!”

“What for?”

“Please!” I cried, my hairs standing on end. “If Copper has… No, I can’t even say it.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” Mesmer said. “Just go and talk with her.”

“I’m tired of your bullshit!” I roared, pulling with all my might, almost causing Mesmer to topple over. “Get a move on!”

“Just let go of me and I will,” Mesmer growled, pushing me off.

I stormed out, building up to a jog as I left the dining room, a chorus of questions chasing after me. I took no notice. All I could think of was Copper’s blank expression resting peacefully on the floor, a knife at her side and blood dripping down her forelegs. No, please don’t be true. Please don’t be true! 


“Don’t do that again, Grey.”


I bounded up the stairs, checking over my shoulder that Mesmer was still following me. You’d better keep up, you bastard! Reaching Copper’s door, (Just past the hallway stained with Yoko’s blood! Here’s another one! Clean that mess up!) I stood in silence for a few moments, my jaw rattling like an express train. I sat and stared, as if trying to bore a hole through the door by sheer force of will. The air was harsh and prickly. Blood drained from my lips.

“So?” Mesmer whispered, having kept up with my fervid charge without even a hint of breathlessness. 

I shot him an incensed glare and knocked lightly on the door. “C-Copper? Are you in there?”

Silence.

“Please! It’s me!” I cried, knocking once again. “Just let me know you’re okay!”

Silence.

“She could’ve gone somewhere else,” Mesmer muttered. “I saw her head upstairs and just assumed.”

I pounded again. “Copper, don’t do this! Whatever you think, just let us know you’re alive, I mean…” I slapped a hoof against my face as the words escaped me. “Please!”

Silence. 

For a moment. And then a faint knock in response. 

I gasped, clutching at my chest as a wave of relief passed over me. “Copper, why are you hiding yourself away like this?”

“Just leave me alone.”

Merely hearing her voice made my heart leap for joy. “No, that’s not acceptable! We’ve just been given a chance now that the killing game’s been put on hold! Mesmer, tell her!”

“Everyone’s worried about you,” Mesmer said. 

A stifled laugh. “You’re a terrible liar. No one gives a damn, do they?”

“I do!” I cried. “Why else would I be here!?”

“Right. Which is why it took you so long.”

“I’m sorry, alright? I was going crazy down there.”

More silence.

“Greyscale,” Mesmer said, patting me on the shoulder. “We know she’s okay now, don’t we? Let’s just leave things as they are.”

“I refuse!” I blasted. “What a great use you are when I ask for your help. Fine! Go! Get lost since you don’t care!”

Mesmer took a step back, regarding me with a pained expression. “Before I do, I’d like to say one last thing.”

“Spit it out! Come on!”

“While Copper isn’t within earshot,” Mesmer added. “This is important.”

Incensed, but understandably curious, I obliged Mesmer’s request, moving to the other end of the hallway. “Alright, what is it?”

“I’m leaving you.”

“What? Is this your attempt at humor?”

Mesmer shook his head. “Not in the slightest. Just calm down for a moment, because I want you to take all of this to heart.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. “You’ve come a long way. Do you remember your first day here?”

“Somewhat,” I replied hurriedly. 

“You didn’t really do much, did you?” Mesmer said. “I mean no offence, believe me, but all you did was tag along with the rest of us, like a grub caught in the current of a stream. You were practically dragged along by Dopple, of all ponies. If it wasn’t for her, you might’ve spent every moment, the investigation included, bolted to the floor like an ornament that time forgot.” He stopped briefly, gazing wistfully into nothingness. “It wasn’t until the trial that you showed a single spark of life.”

I pondered Mesmer’s words. He wasn’t wrong. “So?”

“I couldn’t really believe it myself. Up until that point you had been utterly meaningless as far as I was concerned. You were a nobody.” Mesmer smirked. “And then I decided to be the one to drag you along. And not just me, either. Yoko, rest his soul. Copper, also. Now a livelier grub, announcing its presence to the world, but still being pulled along by the current all the same. I for one enjoyed dragging you here and there, prodding and poking you like an exotic beast in a cage.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better about myself?” I huffed. 

“My point is, all that’s changed. Just now, you were the one who ordered me, dragged me along on a whim. And when I became of no use to you, I was cast off my leash. Even now, you’re doing what you can to pull Copper from her solace. You’re extending your will upon others, almost effortlessly. It makes you more fascinating than ever, truth be told. But that’s exactly why I must leave you.”

“I…” There was no response I could even pluck from thin air. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“What I’m saying is, I’m not going to drag you around anymore. As much as I would love to study you, little lab rat, you’ve outgrown your cage. You should no longer expect me to interfere with your affairs. That is, unless you desperately need my help, I shall give you the widest berth I can muster. No more snarky comments insulting your intelligence. No more attempts at aggravating you or piling on brain-bending tests. I’ve already given you enough of those, I think. Which means the only way you’ll see more of me is if you outright demand it, or you fall into such crippling depths that I see no other option but to put you back in your cage for good. Do you understand?”

I stared back, bewildered. “No, I don’t understand. This is all just to mess with me, isn’t it?”

“Stop telling yourself things like that,” Mesmer replied stoically. “If I wanted to be deliberately mysterious and provocative, I’d make much more of an effort.” He took a deep breath and smiled. “You’re in control now. Do as you please.”

It all began to stack up. Memories of the days gone by flashed before my eyes in a flurry of color and feelings. I had changed. More than that, I was barely the nobody I was once destined to be. My dull, grey life was but history, an ancient text written before my rebirth that I had haphazardly gazed upon before being chained up and sentenced to the new world. Freedom to create and destroy and grasp and cast into the wind. Power enough to bend and build and break the things around me.

Mesmer silently turned away, slinking down the corridor.

“Wait.”

I ran forward just as Mesmer faced me and threw my forelegs around him, digging my chin into his nape and squeezing his torso as if holding on for dear life. I didn’t say a word, nor even open my eyes. There was no real way to describe how I felt. Mesmer, the lunatic, the tormentor, the purveyor of both chaos and logic, the bearer of confusion and cruelty. My greatest ally. My most menacing foe. A beast to be tamed or slain. He meant so much to me. But then, I half-assumed, the feeling was mutual.

We stood for a short while, Mesmer deigning to even raise a hoof in reciprocation. Then I let go and took a step back. I felt refreshed, like stepping out of a blazing hot shower. Something was odd, though. Something I could only have noticed from such a short distance away. Ever so subtly, the stallion was trembling. 

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked.

“Not exactly,” Mesmer replied reproachfully, adjusting his lips. “But you did just raise my suspicions of you being the spy.”

“I did? How?”

Mesmer shrugged, grinning awkwardly. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not one of the six, after all.” 

I stared back, puzzled.

“Relax,” Mesmer said with a chuckle. “You know how I am with acting mysterious and all.”

That was the last thing Mesmer said before descending the stairs. 

I walked back to Copper’s door and rested my forehead against it. I could feel her on the other side. “Copper, I know you think I’m the spy. I really did hear that voice, and that’s the truth, but I’m not the spy.”

“Do you think I’m pathetic?” Copper murmured. 

“Pathetic? How?”

“You thought I might’ve killed myself, didn’t you?” Copper thudded angrily against the door, jolting my head. “What was it you said? ‘Just let us know you’re alive?’ You really think I’d keep my cool throughout all of this, just so I could hang myself over someone like you!? Go screw yourself!”

“Copper, I don’t think you’re pathetic at all. I was just scared. Please, I want you to let me in.”

A long, sardonic chuckle. “Do you even know why I trusted you to begin with? Seriously, just take a wild guess.”

I sighed. “I have no clue.”

“Oh, it’s a wonderful story,” Copper continued. “I had this amazing realization that led me to think you were safer to be around than any of the others. Because why oh why would a nobody with no life and nothing to live for ever kill anyone just to be back where they started!? All the rest of us have something to fight for, don’t we? But not you! Poor little lost lamb, a-ha!”

Copper’s words cut deep. But I stood firm.

“I thought I’d cracked the code! I thought I was a damn genius, yes I did! But then it hit me. What would a nobody want most? A life! And wouldn’t that be just the juiciest little carrot on the end of a stick to get them to do anything of your choosing? What’s that, you’re in mountains of debt without a hope in the world? Why not be a spy in some sick game of death!? We’ll give you all the riches you could ever dream of and all the mares you want to fuck. Just sign the dotted line! Become the spy! Is that how it happened, Grey!? Is it!?”

I waited for Copper’s exasperated breathing to die down, from boundless rasps, to faint whimpers, to slow and steady, deliberate breaths. I had to be sure of what I was about to say. “You’re right about one thing, Copper. I don’t have any plans to commit murder. As for your theory on how I could be the spy, I can say that if anyone approached me with an offer like that, I don’t think I’d have taken it.”

“You wouldn’t have even been tempted?” Copper half-whispered.

“Maybe. If they threatened me with torture, I might’ve considered it. But even if that were the case, I would be the worst spy they could’ve ever picked. I’ve barely talked to anyone in my entire life. I’m just not good at this stuff. You know what I’ve been like, right?”

“Yeah. A creepy little dreamer.”

“Heh.” I slunk to the floor. “If I’m so creepy, why’d you stand by me?”

“Because I’m stupid, I guess.” Another long silence. Then finally, Copper began sobbing quietly. “I don’t know what to do, Grey. I just want to go home. I know Monobunny put the killing game on ice, but… how does that help me? I’m still stuck in here. It’s all hopeless.”

“Maybe you’d feel better after a cuddle.”

“Pfft!” Copper chortled to herself. “Creepy, creepy crawler.”

I laughed back. I felt so much at ease, as if I were drifting gently down a sparkling river, surrounded by swirling cherry blossoms. I almost didn’t want it to end.

“Alright.” I could hear Copper rising to her hooves. “I’ll open the door. But I want to tell you something before I do, and I don’t want you to forget it. Ever.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t know how much of what you told me just now is true. If it turns out that you are what I think you might be, what I desperately hope you’re not, then…” She paused, gathering her courage. “I will kill you. I don’t know how much I’ll see to it that you suffer, but I will do everything I can to make sure you die. The only mercy I’ll offer is the chance for you to take your own life in the most peaceful, painless way possible, before I ever get the chance to lay my hooves on you.”

My heart juddered like an engine at Copper’s chilling declaration. “I don’t think that last part’s going to happen. I’m not very good at committing suicide.”

“A poor attempt at sympathy, Grey. It’s not like you’re the only one.” The door began to creak open at a snail’s pace, Copper’s tear-stained face and fiery eyes waiting behind it. In that moment, I realized she had meant every last word. “No cuddles, creepy crawler,” she said stonily. “Just come and sit with me. You’ll have to trust me not to strangle you to death.”

I did as I was told, and the two of us sat on her bed, a space between us, each staring off into nothingness. The door was closed. I knew I couldn’t have rebutted Copper’s statement. If I’d tried to kill her myself, even if my frame was a little bigger, I somehow knew I would be no match. She felt rather dangerous. 

As we sat in silence, this time acting as both a test for me and a respite for Copper so she could gear herself up to carry on, I began to ruminate on the day’s events. No, not just the events. My events. I had broken free from my cage. I was now in control. Mesmer was convinced I had grown as a stallion, adapting to my surroundings at a remarkable pace, bettering myself into a more complete, truly equine entity. So much more than the passive dreamer that drifted through the world like smoke. I was a ghost become solid.

And yet… I wasn’t so sure about that.

I stared up at the camera just above Copper’s door, its cone of vision beamed directly at us. With them surrounding us at all times, it was easy to forget that we were being watched. At least, that’s what I assumed of the rest of them. There were times when my mind and gaze would drift and catch a glimpse of the shiny black lenses buried in the nooks and crannies of the hotel, and peer inside, wondering who might be staring back at me. 


“Not that it’ll help any of you. If you must know, you’re being watched by thousands!”


I had considered a few possibilities. Perhaps this game of death was actually the centerpiece for an underground gambling ring where the rich and powerful would place their bets on who they thought would win, who the next victim would be, sipping cognac from their armchairs. Perhaps the thousands watching were in a death game of their own, putting their faith in our actions with their fate tied to ours, each group designated to one of the fifteen – no, sixteen – participants. There were a million and one ideas that I could come up with. But the one I most liked to imagine, was that somehow, the entire world was watching, either in fear of the diabolical mastermind or cheering us on from the shadows. No matter the truth, whoever was watching had to have some kind of stake, whether it be personal, financial, emotional or otherwise. Whatever the case, I…


“Like I said, it’s as if you’re not here in the real world.”


I wondered what they might be thinking of me. Were they riveted? On the edge of their proverbial seats? Was my tale of growth exciting? It was certainly exciting for me.


“It’s like you’re having an out of body experience,”


All those years I spent in obscurity, my only crutch for excitement in a meaningful life buried in ink and parchment. I was an observer then, watching from the clouds above as the characters went to and fro, and loved and laughed and died. In the end, it had kept me going.


“and just watching yourself,”


What a thrill it might be to sit on the other side of the glass, the star of the show, the centrepiece, the one to root for. Even as a nobody, I would be a somebody, buried in this story. I could hold meaning for them, be someone to cherish and debate over.

Mesmer might have been right. Maybe I was just unlucky before, that my chance to bloom and develop just needed a friendly nudge, and the presence of onlookers was but a footnote in my tale of time. Still…


“thinking up interesting things you could do.”


I had already done so much in just a few days. Perhaps that set an expectation to reach even greater heights. They could be asking themselves, what will he do next? And if I was truly free from my cage, one question remained: 

Just what else was I capable of?
> Jail Break
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ah! You decided to join us!” Reph exclaimed. 

Copper sighed. “You insinuating we had something better to do? That’s straight outta one of creepy crawler’s fantasies if ever I heard.”

“I insinuate n-nothing!” Reph said bashfully. “B-but the more we have with us, the better.”

Maribelle was still a no-show. “Nice to see crazy bitch isn’t around,” Copper had said under her breath. As for the rest of us, we sat in anticipation as Mesmer and Sanscript pummeled at the wall, each wielding a sledgehammer. The spot where Monobunny had disappeared from sight was now in the process of demolishment. Chunks of mahogany were piled into the corner, their splinters and pieces deftly collected and placed by Lancet. It soon became clear why hooves had had no effect; the wooden slat was several inches thick and unnervingly resilient to punishment. Around fifteen minutes of repeated strikes had failed to break through to the other side.

To the surprise of many, Monobunny had still not appeared despite the blatant destruction of the hotel and potential reveal at an escape route, or at least, a secret area. Upon checking the hotel’s floorplan using the maps in the lobby, the spot where Monobunny had disappeared suddenly seemed all too obvious. Nestled in the corner between Inky and Dish Panner’s rooms was nothing but blank wall-space, with no room or compartment shown. This was much the same as other areas of the hotel on each floor, including a rather large stretch between the male and female changing rooms leading to the swimming pool. It was possible that a control center of sorts was within these walls, allowing us to open the exit and end the killing game for good.

“This isn’t working,” Mesmer muttered, picking up a kitchen knife and holding it perpendicular to the wall, then using some precise hammer strikes to embed the blade up to its handle. With that done, he switched the knife out for a crowbar and repeated the process, burying the tool deeper and deeper into the wood. Finally, once the crowbar was embedded as much as it could be, he removed it and peered through the hole, confirming that he had in fact broken through. 

“Thank heavens,” Lancet said with a sigh of relief. “I thought for a moment there might be a metal barrier on the other side.”

“This is no time to celebrate,” Dish Panner said grimly. “You couldn’t even fit a hoof through that hole.”

“Well, I’m so incredibly sorry!” Sanscript said with annoyance. “You’re more than welcome to lend us a hoof, Miss Panner, while us unicorns toil away like slaves! Using magic for prolonged periods of time is exceptionally exhausting!”

“I’d help if I could,” Dish Panner retorted. “It’s not my fault I was born as an earth pony.”

“Less chit-chat, more escaping!” Inky chirped, casually munching on a bag of popcorn. “You’re doing great, Sanscript! Let that sweat drip! Bust that hole wide open! Plunge deep into its depths! And when we get out of here you can treat me to that thing I wanted.”

“This again?” Sanscript grumbled. “For the seventeenth time, Miss Slinger, I’ve no clue why you have this nonsensical idea that I might be adept at home-baking, much less bear the creation of this so-called ‘cream pie’ you are so hopelessly obsessed with. If it pains you so much, have Miss Panner do you the honors and leave me be!” 

“Oh Sanscript,” Inky said, swooning. “Watching you work like this makes me feel all warm and jizzy inside...”

“The phrase is all warm and fuzzy!” Sanscript retorted. He thought for a moment, a puzzled expression on his face, then shook his head. “Whatever. Not another peep out of you!” He finished his statement with an almighty ‘thwack’ that broke away a large chunk from the wall. 

From there, progress was more noticeable, as the hole was battered at and widened, exposing an inky blackness beyond. Having acquired a flashlight from the MonoMart, Lancet shone a beam inside as others jostled for a peek. 

“Looks like a tunnel,” Lancet said, “but I can’t see anything of note. The walls just look grey and generic.”

“It has to lead s-somewhere,” Reph said with an air of desperation, his wings twitching nervously. “This is our only chance!”

As the work continued, my eyes and mind wandered. There was something altogether peculiar about this scenario. For what must have been the first time since our capture, it felt as if we were acting as one, no longer crushed under the threat of murder, trudging on towards a sparkling ray of hope. Amidst the light bickering I could finally view us all as a group, as a singular force, which made it hurt even more to think of those we had lost, those who never had the chance to live in this moment. 

Damn it, Yoko, I thought to myself. There had been five ponies in our group delegated to meeting in the rec room that morning. By sheer chance, any of us could have died, but Yoko’s tendency to be the early bird, drilled into him by his lifelong training regimen, had been his downfall. Dopple, Sanscript, Mesmer and myself… It could’ve been any one of us. Murdered, not because of who we are, but simply dumb luck of the draw of whoever steps in the firing line. I wondered, momentarily, if I had been given the power of divine intervention, whether I’d have changed the result of that lottery. Would I have picked someone else to die in Yoko’s place? I wasn’t sure. Despite having died just this morning, his absence felt strangely natural. All signs of his being had been erased. The once ravaged rec room had been restored to its former glory. The once blood-soaked carpet was now all but pristine. Almost as if he had never been alive at all. But the shadow of that atrocity hung heavy in my heart.

I envisioned the last of us, the lucky few, out in a restaurant somewhere, having torn down the killing game and escaped from the dome, laughing and drinking, celebrating our triumph. No longer held down by terror, glasses chinking atop the tables, gorging on fine cuisine as per Dish Panner’s recommendation, and walking out into the crisp winter air, heading back to our lives. And then what? We’d remain friends? Why would they bother? I clenched my eyes shut and banished the thought at once. 

“That’s as much as we can do,” Mesmer said, wiping the sweat from his brow. The hole was now a gaping maw riddled with brambles of splinters, as if a cannonball the width of a wagon wheel had been blasted through. “Now we just need a volunteer.”

Everyone’s eyes reached a predictable target. “What are you all looking at me for!?” Button wailed. 

“You know why,” Mesmer replied. “We don’t know if the tunnel gets any narrower. To my mind, this probably leads to a series of air vents, especially after what we’ve learned about the so-called chimney. It makes sense to send in the smallest among us.”

Button peered into the darkness, his teeth chattering. “But what if there’s traps in there!? Like a laser grid that shoots forward and chops me up into little cubes!”

“Is that even likely?” Dish Panner asked. “If it leads into Monobunny’s secret chamber, why would it be rigged with traps?”

“Who knows!?” Button cried, throwing up his hooves. “Maybe that’s been his whole plan all along!”

“Someone needs to go inside,” Lancet said worriedly. “We’ve been given an opportunity, no, a miracle. We can’t let this escape us. Button, won’t you please reconsider?”

Button scrunched up his face, his cheeks glowing. “I don’t know. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Button, listen,” Dish Panner said. “Ever since we got here, Monobunny has been very particular about which actions will result in punishment, and this wasn’t on the list. Besides, killing you with an unexpected trap goes against the spirit of the killing game. You’re just as much in danger out here as you are in there. Please, we need you to do this.”

“Yeah!” Inky chimed in with. “And won’t your girlfriend be super impressed once she hears about your act of bravery?”

“Don’t… talk about her, okay?” Button said sadly, his brow furrowed. “Just, not for now. I’m giving her some space.”

“Did something happen?” Copper asked. “I can’t say I’m all too happy with her right now, but it’s unusual to see you two apart.”

Button grimaced, scratching nervously at his hoof. “Yeah… I called her out on that and she got kinda upset. But she had no right to do that to you, and I got angry.” He shook his head. “Please, let’s not talk about it.”

“Wow,” Copper remarked. “I’m actually shocked. I wouldn’t have expected you to stand up to her, much less for me. I’m really grateful for that.”

“I-it was nothing,” Button replied, blushing.

“No, really,” Copper insisted. “It’s rare for someone to have that quality. We all know how much you like her, and yet you still had the guts to tell her that. That was very brave.” She briefly shot me a sly glance. “Most stallions just tell you what you want to hear instead of being honest. Kind of cowardly and creepy, really. Makes me wish I could’ve met someone like you when I was a school-filly.”

Button’s faced flushed even brighter. “Um, thanks, I guess.” He peered into the hole again. “Do I… Do I really have to go in there?”

“It could save us,” Copper said. “And it would be mighty brave of you, too.”

“Right.” Button took a deep breath, steeling himself. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice.” He grabbed the flashlight between his teeth and hopped inside, crawling through the space with slow, deliberate steps. 

“Look at that,” Copper whispered in my ear. “I told him what he wanted to hear, said he was brave, and all of a sudden he wants to be the hero. Imagine what I could make a creepy crawler like you do. Crawl across broken glass just to please me? Oh, I wonder.” 

A chill went down my spine. Copper sneered back, winking. I told myself she was just teasing me, trying to get a reaction, but I had to wonder if her suspicions of me were cast iron, and she was determined to catch me out. Or maybe she was testing to see if I would get back at her somehow, and wanted me to call her bluff. I had no idea. But as I stared back, Copper’s smile faded and she quickly turned away with what I could only figure was embarrassment. I mentally shrugged, giving up on trying to understand her. 

“We should’ve tied Button to a rope,” Lancet said worriedly. “What if he gets stuck?”

“I’m okay!” Button called from inside. His hooves had, at first, pottered along against hard wood, but once out of sight we could soon hear the unmistakable sound of hoof against metal echoing down the tunnel, becoming fainter and fainter. 

“Can you see anything!?” Reph called through. 

“Not really!” Button shouted back. “It all looks the same! Just an empty tunnel!”

We all waited in anticipation as Button’s hoof-steps became fainter and fainter. We didn’t have to wait long, however. The tension was cut swiftly once Button emitted an ear-splitting, blood-curdling scream.

“Button!” Lancet cried. “What’s wrong!?”

Button’s terrible cries continued, accompanied by a metallic chorus as he thrashed about inside the tunnel.

“I knew it!” Lancet sobbed hysterically. “We should’ve tied a rope on to him! What were we even thinking by sending him in there!?”

“We had to do something!” Mesmer shot back. “I… We didn’t have a choice!”

“I’m going in,” Dopple said, leaping into the abyss. “Button! Tell us what’s going on!”

“Let me out, let me out, let me out!” came Button’s response. “Gah! Out of the way!”

Dopple and Button soon came tumbling out, Button catching himself on the exposed wood grain and peppering his flank with splinters. He yelped in pain, hyperventilating as he lay on the floor, clutching at his wound. 

“Button!” Lancet cried. “What was it!? What did you see in there!?”

“It was horrible!” Button wailed, tears streaming down his face. “There was this big spider, all hairy and wriggly and evil! He was coming right for my eyes!” There was a momentary silence. “What!?”

“For heaven’s sake,” Dish Panner muttered, letting out an immense sigh of relief. “We all thought you were actually in danger.”

“I was in danger! That spider scared me half to death!”

“Wait a second,” Dopple said. “You’re sure you saw a spider?”

“Yes! How many times do I have to tell you!?”

“And you’re sure it was a living spider?” Dopple pressed.

“Do dead spiders scurry around like demons!?” Button spat. “Hurry and close over the hole before it crawls out!”

Dopple put a hoof to her lips, deep in thought. “Then perhaps we have some hope after all.”

“What are you talking about?” Dish Panner asked. “You think a spider will save us?”

Dopple shook her head. “That’s not it. Think about it for a moment. Have any of you seen a single insect, spider, or any other animal for that matter since we got here?” Everyone answered in the negative. “Just as I thought. You see, it’s actually incredibly difficult to find somewhere that has no animal presence whatsoever, even in hospitals, laboratories or underground facilities. It needs to be locked down tight, which is what we can assume about the dome. The temperature here is fairly moderate, so we can’t simply chalk it up to being an inhospitable environment. But if there is indeed a spider within that vent…”

“It must lead to the outside world?” Mesmer finished. 

Dopple nodded. “I can’t say for certain, but that’s what I’m thinking. The problem is whether or not we can reach the other side. Button was barely able to fit, so that doesn’t leave anyone else with much of a chance.”

“I’m not going back in there!” Button yelled, recoiling as he brushed at his wood-studded flank.

“Would it even help if he did?” Dish Panner asked. “Even if he can reach the other end of the tunnel, and by some miracle find a way to open the exit, wouldn’t Monobunny just stop him?”

“We don’t know that,” Mesmer said, “and I am not giving up just because we might fail.” 

Lancet took Button away in order to remove his splinters while the rest of us stood awkwardly in the hallway. We were still stuck at square one, and there was nothing I could do or say that would change anything. I’d been imbued with newfound power, yet I couldn’t change a thing. Unless...

“Well?” Sanscript said, standing up straight. “I, for one, agree with Mesmer. We should try the other areas of the hotel that appear suspicious, lest we miss our chance entirely.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Mesmer replied. “Reph? Get the broom from the utility room. You’re helping us.”

“Uh… yes! Of course!” Reph said giddily, trotting after the two stallions.

Your new lab rat, huh, Mesmer? I thought to myself. Why? I don’t know what you see in him.

“Back to doing nothing again,” Dish Panner said drolly. “Not that I was expecting a miracle.”

“Mmf?” Inky grunted, scarfing down the last of her popcorn. “We don’t have to do nothing. We could get wasted!”

Copper tutted. “Is that your answer to everything? Why don’t you go follow your boyfriend around instead of killing yourself one bottle at a time?”

Inky looked genuinely hurt for a moment before straightening herself up and smiling. “Firstly, the way things are going, I’m more likely to get killed by one of you bopping me on the head with a hammer than I am from downing too many shots. Secondly, why don’t you go follow your boyfriend around? Oh wait, you’ve been doing that already.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!? Greyscale isn’t my boyfriend!”

“Aha! You said it!” Inky cheered. “I didn’t mention a name! You admit it!”

“Don’t act smart. It was obvious what you were insinuating.”

“She’s right, though,” Dish Panner said, smirking. “We’ve all noticed it.”

“That’s right,” Dopple said matter-of-factly. “There’s no need to hide it.”

Copper’s face exploded in a flourish of crimson. “You’re all taking it the wrong way! I’m not into him!”

“Greyscale?” Dopple asked. “What do you think?”

I tapped a hoof against my chin pensively. How am I doing this? “Well, now that you mention it,” All I have to do is imagine it… “she has been kind of stalkerish towards me.” And it just happens before my eyes. “I think she might be obsessed.” Like I’m not even here. 

“You deluded pig!” Copper blasted. 

It keeps on going like magic, like magic. “I forgive you, though. I know you can’t help it.” I could never say that. How am I doing this? “But you must understand, my body is not an object.” I want to see what happens next. “I’m just…” And now…

Oh. 

Inky erupted into laughter first, collapsing to the floor and clutching at her stomach. Dish Panner followed suit, snorting mirthfully and pounding at the floor. It was the first time I’d seen her laugh. Dopple chortled in near silence, eyeing me curiously. I started chuckling to myself, dipping my head down and covering my face. It was the only way I could hide the fact that I felt as if I’d been shot through the heart. I was shaking erratically. Laughter was my guise. I had, I now realized, taken a leap too far. Reality had snapped me back, and now I was reeling. But amongst the pain, there it was: the desire to push myself even further. I had just gotten started.

“You freaking legend!” Inky exclaimed, clasping a hoof on my shoulder. “I didn’t know you were such a comedian!”

“Yes,” Dish Panner said, chuckling. “I think I needed that.”

“It wasn’t funny!” Copper snapped, her face like beetroot. 

“Oh, come on!” Inky exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “You were being bitchy and he got you back good and proper.”

“You all ganged up on me!”

Inky sighed melodramatically. “Don’t get your tail in a twist, missy. Besides, what do I care if you wanna hang out with Greyscale? The dude’s cool. He’s saved our flanks twice now, and he knows how to crack a joke. I’d understand if you’re into him.”

“I’m not! Stop saying that!”

Inky winked back and chuckled some more. I was still in a state of shock, taking deep breaths to ready myself, masking them under fake laughter. 

“So,” Dopple began, “what should we do now? None of us are really equipped to help break down the walls.”

“Drink!” Inky cheered. “What do ya’ll say? Just us five? We can relax and share stories, learn a little bit more about each other? We haven’t done anything like that since the first night and I am just sick and tired of thinking about all the depressing shit that’s happened. I just want to…” Inky took a long, deep, deliberate breath. “Chill for a while now that we don’t have to worry about the killing game. Who’s in? Grey Skull?” 

“Uh, sure,” I replied, feeling somewhat blessed to have been given an impromptu nickname. I could hardly refuse the offer.

“In that case,” Dish Panner said timidly, “I might join you. I’ve not been doing too well at all, and… maybe letting my hair down could do me some good.”

Dopple furrowed her brow. “Mesmer won’t be happy about it at all. He’ll chastise us for being too lazy and carefree.” She gave it a second’s thought. “In which case, I’ll gladly join you.”

“Nice! That’s what I like to hear.” Inky turned to Copper. “And what about you? I think you should come along. Otherwise, your boyfriend will be all by himself with three mares, getting tipsy and having a fun time…” She put on an overly dramatic voice and serious frown. “Anything could happen, and I mean anything!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll tag along,” Copper huffed. “Not because of what you’re saying, though. I just… don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Excellent!” Inky cheered. “In that case, you three mares mosey on down to the dining room while our stallion helps me with the heavy lifting.” She stepped to her door and unlocked it with her keycard.

“Let me guess,” Copper said drolly. “You don’t need to get anything from the MonoMart because you’ve got a stash of your own. I don’t know why we have to do this. Dopple I get, but I’m surprised at you, Dish Panner.”

“I… have my reasons,” Dish Panner replied as the three mares walked down the hallway and Inky ushered me into her room.

Sure enough, just as Copper had predicted, Inky’s wardrobe held an assortment of liquor bottles, mixers and cider, most of which were only partially full.

“Which of the two d’you like the most?” Inky asked.

“Huh? I don’t really mind, whichever you want.”

“I’m not talking about the drinks,” Inky said with a smirk. “Do you have a hard-on for wings or is that just a coincidence?”

I immediately grew bashful under Inky’s suggestive grin. “I… I don’t know.”

“Well you’d better make your mind up.” Inky grabbed two bottles and some disposable cups, holding them against her shoulder. “They both kinda like you, you know? At least, I think they do. I have a sense for that kind of stuff, so you’d better not waste your opportunity, ‘cause I seriously doubt they’d be up for a threesome.”

“I wouldn’t have expected them to,” I replied nervously. 

“I mean it though. Why do you think I’m doing all this? Sanscript’s in a rough place right now – don’t think I have much chance with him the way things are.” She smiled somewhat sadly. “It’d be cool for some other couple to get together, just to make this place a bit cheerier. So you’d better make me proud! And don’t get too drunk or little Greyscale won’t forgive you.” She shoved a few bottles into my hooves and slammed the wardrobe shut. “You sure you don’t want to tell me which one you like best?”

I didn’t know how to respond. Or, more accurately, I didn’t know the answer. A future with either Dopple or Copper seemed beyond impossible, so much so I’d not even the vaguest hope for such things. “I don’t know what to say, but you’re really trying to help me, aren’t you?”

“Of course! I just told you!”

“Thanks.” I smiled gratefully. “I’m glad I can count on you as a friend.”

“Don’t get all mushy on me, Grey Squirrel. Now let’s get moving! Party time!”

What followed was like a dream. No, more than that, it was a dream from someone else’s life, a semblance of heavenly peace and joy, but still in the realms of reality. I was reminded of the first evening in the dome, all fifteen of us crowded around the dining room tables as we discussed our options, the deaths of Pinkie Pie, Shetland, Yoko and Elsie nothing but a remote possibility. I was there, but only in the physical sense. The others, they all had parts to play, had points to make, while I simply sat and ate my fill, almost invisible. I was merely an observer. Now, I was an integral part of the whole. It didn’t matter that I had little to say; for some reason, I just knew. I wasn’t being pitied anymore. I had become something new, something truly equine. The likes of Mesmer and Yoko had shown an interest in me, maybe even the connection of a friend, but this was different. For the first time ever, I truly felt like part of the family. Was it because I had showed my worth during the trials, I wondered? That had to be it. They… needed me. And maybe I needed them. 

Maybe. 

Through some devilish coercion passed off as innocent proceedings, Inky had managed to get me seated in between Dopple and Copper. By convincing Copper to show her a card trick on a different table, away from the bottles, and then fussing over Dish Panner’s black gown, (to which the earth-pony mare was predictably standoffish, though I somewhat suspected she had deciphered Inky’s game) She took the remaining seat on Dopple’s right side, leaving only one configuration for the five of us to take. I was genuinely impressed, and rather flattered that she would do such a thing for my sake, even if I had no idea what to do with such an opportunity. 

As per usual, Inky was the one to start off each conversation, first asking Copper about her life as an illusionist. Copper was apprehensive at first, not wanting to speak, and seeming suspicious that she was simply being set up for another round of jibes, but was prodded into being more talkative.

“I don’t want your life story,” Inky said. “Just tell us some cool stuff, like, have you ever had any of your tricks go wrong. Come on, drink up and tell us!”

Copper talked about how frustrated she was with the number of times she’d been accused of her tricks having been helped by unicorns. “They assume because they can’t figure it out, it must have been impossible,” she pouted, sipping cautiously at the tangy cocktail Inky had provided each of us. “I keep telling them, no, I make a big point about it and show unicorns weren’t involved, so they say, ‘well how did you do it?’ What, am I supposed to give all of my secrets away?”

What started out as a somewhat forced, awkward encounter quickly flowed along naturally and effortlessly. Whether it was because of alcohol consumption, (which all except Inky and Dish Panner were initially hesitant at partaking in, but were quickly chastised in a joking manner and encouraged to consume) or simply because each of us were attuning to the moment, I’m not entirely sure. What mattered was that Inky’s idea was working, and we were finally interacting with each other in a normal manner. Despite the undercurrent of anxiety and tender hearts, there was an unmistakable atmosphere of solace and respite. I felt a bizarre nostalgia that I couldn’t hope to place, but it didn’t matter where the feeling had come from. It was there, and I was floating around in it, carried along by a palpable warmth. I wondered, briefly, if this was what normal beings felt. Was this what I had been missing out on all these years? Not that I’d had any hope of it, even with this realization. It was… nice. I could hardly say much more. 

Dopple was somewhat talkative, more so at least than she normally was. She didn’t delve into the parts of her life she’d told me about previously – nothing of her father and her oppressive, lonely upbringing. She rattled off a few stories about her time as an impersonator, gigs on the comedy circuit and so forth. She had an especially potent way of dealing with hecklers, impersonating them to an uncanny degree and having their friends and family members rolling on the floor with laughter. As soon as this was brought up, naturally, she was asked for a demonstration. 

“You’ll have to forgive me,” Dopple said. “If I come across like I’m mocking any of you, that isn’t my intention. I don’t hold anything against any of you here.”

“Blah-blah-blah,” Inky chattered, waving a hoof. “Don’t worry about that. Do me! Do me!”

“Alright,” Dopple said, taking a moment to focus. When she opened her eyes again, a sultry grin appeared on her face. Her brow grew looser and she cradled her drink nonchalantly, licking her lips in a flirtatious fashion. Her neck danced as she talked. In a matter of seconds, she was Inky, in the flesh. “Hey, you guys! D’you think Sanny is a giver, or a taker? A mover, or a shaker? I know, I’ll ask him myself! Hey, mister teacher!” Dopple fluttered her eyelashes seductively. My heart was about to reach hyperdrive. 

And then she was stiff as a rod, her lips slightly pursed, an annoyed frown on her face. “What is it this time, Miss Slinger?” Easy as that, she was Sanscript, all of his minute mannerisms intact.

“Can you help me with my homework? It’s marine biology! Now let’s make like the octopussies! Two in the pink and one in the ink!”

“The plural of octopus is octopi, Miss Slinger, and I have no idea whatever you mean!”

“No way,” Dish Panner balked, utterly slack-jawed. We all were. Despite having seen Dopple’s tremendous skill before, it was still an unbelievable sight to behold. 

“Monobunny wasn’t kidding,” Inky said blankly. “You really are the Ultimate Impersonator.”

“Thanks,” Dopple said, blushing. Back to being herself. “I’m sorry for doing that. I… won’t do it again.”

“No, you were amazing!” Inky replied jubilantly. “Really, that was hilarious! I’m just… kind of taken aback, is all. I didn’t think anyone could even do that! How have I never heard of you before?”

Despite being begged to do impressions of everyone in the dome, Dopple was extremely hesitant, quickly impersonating Mesmer for a quick laugh, (though Copper appeared mortified by Dopple’s skill, presumably afraid that Dopple might do an impression of her) before doing her best to brush the whole thing off as nothing. 

Dish Panner was in higher spirits than normal. She’d mostly been dour and reserved, though I had to remember that she’d spent a fair deal of time with Elsie, and even Inky, as per the events of the morning – seems so long ago – so she obviously wasn’t a complete recluse. She spent a bit of time talking about various experiences at different restaurants, as well as her reputation as a spiteful ice queen and fair share of haters. This seemed like a touchy subject for her, but, inebriated as she was – or, more accurately, as we all were becoming – she was willing to share some of her toughest moments.

“I know what so many say,” she said with a doleful smirk, swirling her drink as if it were top-of-the-range champagne. “It’s easy being a critic. All we do is crush the hopes and dreams of others, always demanding more. It doesn’t matter how many glowing reviews you might give to the truly great or how much useful advice you give out, the chefs with delusions of grandeur who think adding the most obscure herbs and chili pods into their cooking oils makes them a transcendent genius, those are the fools who manage to rally the mobs and treat me and others like myself as pariahs. But I do what I do out of love.” She slammed down on the table. “Not out of hate. But try telling them that.”

“Sounds tough,” I said, managing to nudge myself in on the conversation. “What’s the worst thing anyone’s ever done?”

Dish Panner frowned, staring a hole into her drink. She shuffled in her seat. “I’d rather not talk about it here.”

As time went on, I began to feel more relaxed. I thought of what Inky told me, that this was all part of the plan for hooking me up with either Dopple or Copper. Not that there was any chance of that happening, of course. They were both attractive mares, each in their own way. Copper was more traditionally alluring, with her shimmering jade green mane that covered just the slightest portion of her eye, almost like a delicate shadow giving her a mysterious vibe. Her figure was decidedly lithe and streamlined, her wings long and beautiful with their grainy, copper shine. Her face was soft and rounded, with high-risen cheekbones and twitchy nose. Her ears bobbed and weaved whenever she got emotional, which was painfully adorable.

Dopple was more like an angel, less curvy and voluptuous, but with a more regal posture and slow, deliberate movements. She still retained a youthful, well-kept figure, but with a frilly, almost cloudlike mane that wisped and waved with each glance or nod of the head. She held a perpetual near-smile, her thin lips hovering steadily, unwaveringly, below her button nose. Her ears were stuck in place like statues, much like herself, never wavering for a moment.

I hadn’t realized until this point that I hadn’t really considered my feelings for either of them, if indeed that’s what this was. I’d never held a romantic interest in a mare before, regarding the popular, sought after mares as statuettes, something to find pleasing but altogether distant and ethereal. But here I was, sat between two mares who not only held my interest, but had shown interest in me, even if I had no proof it was anything other than platonic. Still, Inky had noticed these feelings in me, and had supposed that these feelings might be mutual. Whether that meant anything, I wasn’t sure. 

I thought of Copper as a sorrowful, fragile soul who put up a diamond-hard exterior out of sheer necessity to survive. She was strong, perhaps a little dangerous, and was dragged down by incessant doubts. But I also felt a passion within her, a need to fight for what was right. I wondered if she would’ve been an altogether happier, more self-assured mare had I met her outside the dome. As she was, she was swamped by worry upon worry, desperate for a reprieve. She was emotional; she often lashed out, but I found that strangely reassuring. Then again, there was also the fact she was somewhat fearful of me. I felt a need to calm those suspicions.

Dopple was more stoic and confident, keeping her cool whilst the madness of the killing game kept on. She had exposed her painful past to me, and me alone. (At least, I assumed. Mesmer seemed to know more than he let on.) She was a revered queen, ostracized from the rest of the herd due to her overwhelming wisdom, but also seeking someone to relate to. I could sense an otherworldly power within her, one that she did her utmost to hide. I was in awe of her, standing in the presence of a being outside my understanding. She was incredibly gifted and wise beyond her years, and while that made her intellectually intimidating, she didn’t act with a sense of pride or elitism. Looking deep into her eyes, I saw someone struggling to piece themselves together, much like myself.

No matter how I sliced it, both mares offered up an enticing amount of intrigue. Given the choice, I couldn’t make the choice. I’d never thought of relationships before. How could I? I was just a nobody, drifting through a dull, grey life. I wouldn’t even know the first thing to do. What could I even offer these talented, good-natured mares? Nothing. Or, perhaps with a little introspection, (Just think of it and make it happen. Make it reality.) I could prove myself to them. But that was easier said than done. In the end, it was easier to just think of them as precious objects to be fawned over, always just out of reach. At least then I wouldn’t be buried by false hope that they could become something more. 

“Oh, we’ll see how long that lasts, won’t we?”

The party went on. Nobody really pressed me to talk about my life. That was good, I supposed. 

“I’ll be back in a m-minute,” I drunkenly slurred, sliding out from the table.

“I left my room open,” Inky said, saluting. “If any of you need to use the little foal’s room, go right ahead. Saves you having to go upstairs an’ stuff.”

I did as such, taking a look at myself in the mirror and feeling disgust and disappointment at my drooping features. Totally a win with the ladies. I relieved myself and went to leave before being stopped in my tracks. Dish Panner was standing in the doorway, a grave expression on her face.

“Um, hi?” I said dumbly. 

“We need to talk,” she replied stoically.

“Oh.” 

“I’d been waiting for a chance to speak with you alone,” Dish Panner continued, scratching nervously at her jet-black mane. “During the last trial, with Elsie.” She clenched her eyes shut. “You do realize that you’re the reason her plan failed?”

I wasn’t ready for that. “Well, I…”

“She sacrificed herself for what she believed in, sacrificed herself to save as many of us as she could. She gave up her only chance to see her children ever again just so she could trap the spy. I know she killed Yoko in the process, and that’s horrible, but she didn’t do it for her own benefit. She wanted to save us, a bunch of strangers who are down on their luck. And you’re the reason she died in vain. Do you accept that as true?”

I was shaking from head to tail. My muscles were clenched, expecting an angry hoof to strike at my eye at any moment. “Yeah. I accept it as true.”

Dish Panner watched me for a moment before sighing. “Good. Believe it or not, I don’t hate you for it. Elsie was a noble soul, but what you did was no less than that. You pushed yourself to save us, under all that pressure, and solved an impossible murder. You’ve done that twice now. It’s incredible, really. But by now you must realize that there’s bigger fish to fry than just solving murders.”

I thought for a moment. “The spy?”

She nodded. “Bingo. Given what I’ve seen, I don’t think for a second it could be you. And whatever happened with voices in your head scaring Monobunny, I don’t think that points to you either. I think someone’s messing with you because you solved those trials. I don’t know what their motive might be, but I can just feel that that’s the case.” She placed a hoof on my shoulder. “I’m relying on you to do what Elsie failed to do, alright? You’ve proven yourself to be a competent detective up to this point. I just hope you can do that little bit extra to save us all.”

“I’ll try,” I replied, not even sure what else I could possibly do.

Dish Panner leant in close and whispered in my ear. “Meet me at the swimming pool tomorrow morning at eight. Don’t tell a single soul. If, for whatever reason, the killing game is reinstated, hold off and we’ll figure something out. I know you wouldn’t want to meet with someone alone in that scenario. I just… want to show you something. I want to prove that you’ve earned my trust, and hopefully I can earn yours.” She pulled back, forcing a smile. “Eight o’ clock. Promise?”

My curiosity was piqued. I nodded.

“Alright,” Dish Panner said. “I’ll hold you to that. You’d better not let me down.”

“So,” Inky led on with once we were back in the dining room, stretching out her forelegs. “What’s the plan for you all if we get out of this dump?”

“Dine like royalty,” Dish Panner said wistfully. “In fact, I’ll take all of you along with me. The food that’s out there, you wouldn’t believe.”

“Rake in the money,” Copper said mirthfully. “I’m sure a certain zebra I know could whip up a story and get me interviews. Then I’d probably just sleep for the next few weeks.”

“I don’t really know what I’d want,” Dopple said sadly. “I guess I’d just want us to stay friends and hope for the best. Perhaps you could all come to one of my shows.”

“Come on, that’s a terrible answer!” Inky quipped. “Me? I want to find one of those underground magic salons where they cast all kinds of spells and do crazy shit! Just once before I die, I want to swap bodies with a stallion. Maybe I could convince Sanscript to come along and we could swap sides for the ultimate experience! What about you, Greybeard?”

“Me? I guess I’d just hang around with you guys. I’d want to see what you do.”

My statement drew a veritable silence across the table. I didn’t know what I’d said wrong. If anything, I’d said the same thing as Dopple. But in truth, I didn’t know what I’d want outside the dome. I couldn’t even fathom it. The dome was the dome, and escape was impossible. No, not even that, who we were, the lives we led, the things we felt, all that would dissipate the moment we left the dome. Did I want that? Was that my dream? I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything. Outside the dome was a region of blank expanse stretching to the horizon. 

“Come on, Greywood,” Inky said with a chuckle. “Anything. Any crazy idea you might have!”

I didn’t have one. Every hope I had was tied to the dome. But I couldn’t be pitied. That was worse than death. I had to improvise. “I’d just go travelling then, I guess. Go see the world, stuff like that.”

It passed over. Time went on. It got late. We got drunk. I felt tired. I don’t remember. We split apart. Something else. I don’t remember. Then I went to bed. The joy of togetherness was slipping from my grasp. Yet at the same time, I was glad for it to go. At the same time, I was losing out on everything. 

At the same time, I…

Good. Bad. Good. Bad. Always. Never. So long. Goodbye.

I had missed another chance to unlock my potential. I had drifted like a cloud in a light breeze. I had forgotten where I was, what I’d lived through. Once alone and falling restlessly to sleep, I wanted the comfort of another life. I longed for it. My lack of it dispirited me. With each ray of hope came a curtain of despair. That wouldn’t do. Not now. Not anymore. 

It was time to play pretend. Just like the good old days. 

“Ah, but this time it’s different. We’ll see what awaits us, won’t we, Greyscale?”

I smiled for the camera. What else was there to do?
> A Stab in The Dark
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

My alarm rang at half past seven. I got up. My head was throbbing and my neck ached. Seems I’d slept in an awkward position and bent it out of shape. I stretched, grimacing as my muscles twisted and turned out of their knots. I plunged myself into the shower, only then remembering my scheduled meeting with Dish Panner. I planted my back to the wall, trying to figure out what I should be preparing for. A friendly chat? No. A heart to heart? Maybe. Getting revenge for Elsie and trying to kill me off while she has a chance? Unlikely, but possible. Whatever it was, I felt a deep sense of dread. But I felt an even worse fate might await me if I were to ignore her entirely. I dried myself off, waited for the clock to near eight, and set off.

Upon reaching the third floor I came across a series of rough gashes in the wood paneling. Chunks of mahogany were scattered like bark chips. A few tools – crowbars, hammers, and such – lay abandoned. The escape efforts appeared to have been in vain, as only one of the many holes led to anything resembling a tunnel, which appeared to be even more narrow than the one we discovered yesterday. Even Button might struggle to pass through.

A fleeting memory flashed by from the night before. Mesmer and Reph had jutted their heads through the door of the dining room. I don’t remember if any words were spoken, but the two left almost immediately. If I were to guess – which was all I could offer – I expect neither of them were all too pleased with our apparent laziness and uncaring attitude in such dire times. But if that were the case, I would’ve expected an abrasive grilling from Mesmer. Even if he’d vowed to give me some space, and was accepting of my own idleness, I couldn’t imagine that the sight of five of us wasting the evening away while he toiled and struggled to save us was anything other than infuriating. So why then, didn’t he explode with anger? I was sure I would have remembered something like that.

I shrugged, making a mental note to speak with Mesmer on the matter when I had the chance. I rounded the hallway to the locker room entrance, staring down the beastly machine gun before heading inside. Once past the swinging doors I checked my surroundings cautiously. Nothing but the sound of rippling water and my own hoof-steps against the ceramic tiles. My mind flitted back to Pinkie’s lifeless corpse and I shook the thought away, much as I’d done setting hoof in the second-floor hallway leading to the rec room. The fact that all evidence of murder had vanished into thin air was somehow more unsettling than the sight of blood and flesh.

I walked onwards, keeping an eye on the corner room, anticipating a monstrous figure to burst forth from the darkness and swallow me whole as I died screaming.

“Greyscale?”

I leapt at the voice. My ‘attacker’ had been hiding in plain sight all along. Dish Panner peered at me from the female locker room, looking me up and down with a meticulous, fear-stricken expression. Then she met my gaze and forced a pained smile. “I thought maybe you’d have picked something up from the hallway to use as a weapon.”

“Why would I do that?” I asked, taking an instinctive step back, reminded of the threat of entering her space. If I was pulled into the locker room against my will and shot to pieces, would that count as murder, I wondered? “I have no reason to attack you.”

“Self-defense can be a reason,” Dish Panner continued. She pushed open the saloon-style doors and approached with delicate, deliberate steps, planting each hoof completely flat on the ground. Her breathing was sharp and shallow. It was as if she were stepping carefully over a field of broken glass, terrified that she might trip and fall.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, wondering for a moment if she’d taken a tumble after the previous night’s drink-fest. 

“I’m fine,” she said flatly. “Now, I have something I want to show you. This is going to be incredibly embarrassing for me, and you have to promise me now that you won’t tell another soul.”

“I promise,” I replied. 

“I was already forced to reveal this once before,” Dish Panner said with a frown, “and I’m still not happy about it. But I want you to be the only other. Please, let us head to the storeroom.”

I obliged, and still Dish Panner walked on with a troubling gait, as if an anvil rested on her back. I opened the door to the storeroom and hit the light switch. And again. Nothing. Same as last time. “It’s really dark in here,” I said, stating the obvious.

“Yes,” Dish Panner said. “I don’t want anyone else to see this.”

I stopped in my tracks, a chill winding its way across my chest. “Um, are you sure about this?”

“I’m begging you to trust me on this one,” Dish Panner replied. Her lips were quivering and her eyes watering. “I really want to show you.”

I was on the brink of running for my life, but still moved along like a puppet, opening the door and walking into the void. I took to the opposite wall, keeping a close eye on my companion, who crept inside and began to slide the door shut.

“Wait!” I cried out.

“Shh!” Dish Panner chided. “I’m not going to close it off completely. Can you still see me?” 

With the door just barely ajar, a shaft of light trickled in. Dish Panner moved further into the room, at the edge of becoming pitch-black, casting her in a pale moonlight. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, but I could make out her form.

“Alright,” Dish Panner said. “Now, I know I’ve asked you to make a lot of promises to me, but I want you to make just one more. When I show you, don’t scream or anything like that. I really mean it. It’ll hurt my feelings if you do.”

I made the final promise, my heart still pounding in my ears.

“Thank you. I truly mean that from the bottom of my heart.”

With near surgical precision, Dish Panner began to remove her gown. Each movement was slow and methodical. It wasn’t a seductive striptease, nor was it a swift, efficient removal of clothing, but a tense display of painstaking gestures, held to perfection. I was somewhat mesmerized, pulled in so much by sheer curiosity that at first, I didn’t even notice the knife she’d been hiding. I was too busy watching the velvety fabric drift across her torso like waves in the ocean. 

I saw its subtle glint and my stomach sank like a rock. It was a trap. I had fallen for it. I was about to be gutted like a salmon in the maw of a grizzly bear. I awaited Dish Panner’s sudden lunge forward, visualizing her silhouette streaking across the storeroom with unfathomable speed. I was about to flee, every bone in my body coiled like a spring. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to die!

Dish Panner looked at me intently, barely moving a muscle. She turned her attention towards the knife, dipping her head and gazing across its blade. My mind blinked back into reality and I remembered her words. Don’t make a noise. That’s what she’d said. She wasn’t making any attempt to conceal the knife. Despite the dim lighting, there appeared to be a concerted effort to making sure I knew what she was carrying. She raised her eyes and shook her head slowly and cautiously, bringing a hoof to her lips to signal silence. I couldn’t help but panic. I had no clue what was going on.

“Greyscale,” Dish Panner whispered. “Look at me.”

I did. Peering through the darkness, I saw the trembling visage of a tearful mare, not breaking her gaze for a second. It was an image of pure desperation, of someone begging to an almighty power beyond all existence and knowledge, a plea for divine intervention. I became so absorbed by the emotional turmoil that I began to well up myself. I saw a broken pony at the end of her rope. 

Dish Panner pushed the blunt edge of the blade into her mouth, keeping her eyes trained on mine. She gestured to the knife and once again shook her head ever so slightly. She bent down, the rest of her gown slipping from her flank like a theatre curtain. When she rose back up, the knife was gone. Only it wasn’t. It had been buried within the sea of swimming floats. She looked towards that spot and once again motioned for silence. I was dumbfounded.

“You’re one of only few to see my true self,” Dish Panner said shakily. “I’ve struggled to form relationships. Most stallions simply can’t deal with it. Intimacy is… difficult.”

Nothing made sense. I heard her words but couldn’t rationalize them. There was a knife right there. A knife! 

“I’m showing this to you because I trust you.” Dish Panner began walking towards me. I tensed up, solid as a rock. Then our faces were mere inches from one another. As I gazed into her sad, sunken eyes, my fear began to dissipate. I felt it, instinctively in my heart, that she posed no threat whatsoever. If anything, I was a greater threat to her. The knife – as I was beginning figure out – served a different purpose. Dish Panner turned to one side, cradled in dim light. I’d been keeping eye contact the entire time, but she gestured for me to inspect her naked body. What I saw almost made me gasp. 

Scars. Though some were covered by her sandy coat, unmistakable lines and gashes were plastered across her back. Tiny nicks dotted the area below her shoulders. Long slits lay beside her stomach and ribs. Most horrific of all were two patches of mangled flesh below her shoulder blades, pits surrounded by bloated, messy scar tissue that even her fur was incapable of thriving on. 

“You can touch them,” Dish Panner said in a hushed voice. “I don’t want you to doubt, even for a second, that my scars are real. Please.”

I hesitated, hovering my foreleg over her body. Despite being insisted upon, it still felt obscenely rude to stroke a mare’s back. I lowered my hoof, planting it on the nest of scars. Dish Panner winced a little, but held firm. I at once felt a bubbling sorrow as I traced a weaving path down her spine, feeling bumps and dips, gazing over this monochrome patchwork of hair and skin. It was too dark to make out the long-since-healed wounds in all their discolored, horrific glory, but it was enough to grasp just how much Dish Panner’s form had been mutilated. This was what she had to live with. This was why she insisted on wearing that gown. I couldn’t relate. A tear trickled down my cheek.

“You’re probably wondering how it happened,” Dish Panner said, planting her flank on the floor and hanging her head morosely. “It was many years ago. I was only nineteen at the time. I’d graduated culinary school three years prior. An early start at just sixteen, I know, but I was ravenous to get into the industry and had pulled every string possible to make it happen, thanks in great part to my parents’ influence. They were extremely supportive and didn’t hold me back even for a second.

“Anyway, I took various jobs in the food industry after that. It wasn’t long before I was a fairly well-regarded chef. Not famous on a national level, but at least in certain circles. It wasn’t easy being a young filly in such positions, and there were some who tried taking advantage of me. I think those early experiences took their toll, and I became more volatile, always assuming the worst in others. My love for cooking was tainted by the actions of perverted stallions. I’m afraid to admit I held a grudge against the male sex in its entirety for a portion of my life.

“While I adored cooking – and I still do – my true passion was in discovering the best there was to offer. I became infuriated by clueless owners and delusional chefs, and sought out the most renowned restaurants in the world, using my rather unique status as a selling point to make those dreams happen. I dined on the finest cuisine this side of the hemisphere, sharing my experiences in interviews and articles in various publications, delving deep into each menu, offering my own knowledge and gaining that of others in return. It was a revelation. I had found the path to joy. 

“In time, I looked to expand my horizons. After some of my published reviews began to circulate, several of my choice restaurants saw an influx of diners, many of whom saw my works as a blessing. As such, chefs, establishment owners and the like saw me as an opportunity for success. I would make a living doing what I loved, they would be granted the gift of more customers, and those customers would share in the wonderful experiences I so passionately described. Everyone was a winner. At least, that was the idea.

“Many think I deliberately set out to discredit chefs from the get-go, holding them to impossible standards out of sheer malice and relishing their demise. But that’s not how things went at all. With so many offers thrown my way at once, I saw it as an opportunity to step outside my comfort zone. I went into it all with an open mind, hoping for the best. What I got were doddery old fools and naïve simpletons who thought their third-rate grass clippings were worthy of praise. I was faced with a choice; should I lie and pass out good reviews to any place capable of steaming a cabbage, or should I be honest, offering constructive criticism on how best to improve their work? I took the latter approach, of course. As you can expect, some didn’t take too lightly to what I had to say.

“I can remember all the excuses they came up with. I was lying just to stir controversy. I was being paid off by someone else to discredit them. I didn’t know anything about food. I could never be satisfied. There are foals starving in the world. I was just a money-grubbing whore. Oh yes, I heard it all, and I had to take it on the chin, even if my criticisms were barely moderate. They begged me not to write my reviews, threatened me over them. I was growing weary of it all. I would always assume the worst and judge others accordingly. I had burrowed myself into a cycle, and still I was called upon by even more chefs determined to prove that they had what it took to impress me. Some did. Many didn’t. Yet the calls kept on coming.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m telling you all this. I’m here to tell you about my scars, aren’t I? Well, you see…” Dish Panner took a deep breath, shifting closer to me. “There was one restaurant that made good on their threats. I was attacked.”

I gulped instinctively, feeling the chill from Dish Panner’s words resonate within me. “They did that to you… over a bad food review?”

She nodded, beginning to tremble. “Corazon del Sol.”

My breath caught in my throat. Warm blood shot to my face. “Th-that’s…”

“I’ll never forget the name,” Dish Panner continued. “It was a family-run business owned by a stallion named Pegaso Dueno, a burly Caballian. His two sons were the head chef and sous chef while his two daughters worked as waitresses, with a few other staff filling in the gaps. His wife had passed away not long before I’d gone to visit, though I didn’t realize at the time. Not that it would’ve made a difference, if I’m honest. They were struggling financially and had pinned their hopes on me to help them. I didn’t hold back. I was honest. I tore their lackluster pumpkin fritters and their watery, tasteless gazpacho to smithereens. They were beyond furious. It was just another day.

“I left the premises that evening. It was dark. It was raining. I found shelter under a nearby marquee and waited it out, flipping through magazines while I waited for the rain to die down. I remember that faint pitter-patter, absolute tranquility, the calm before the storm. I didn’t even hear them sneaking up on me. Before I could react, I was pulled aside and kicked in the throat.  I could hardly breathe, let alone call for help. That was when I saw them – the owner and one of his sons – and was dragged into an alleyway. I could hardly believe what was happening.

“I pleaded forgiveness from them. I was sobbing, cradling my head in my hooves and begging for them to let me go. But just as I had refused those same requests from them, they too refused mine. Dueno tied a rag around my head, binding my mouth. I tried to break free by force, but Dueno struck me in the ribs. I fell to the ground in agony, but the worst was yet to come. I saw the son with these knives, and…”

Dish Panner clenched her teeth and began breathing erratically. When her voice came to, it was tainted with unmistakable anguish. “You know the worst thing? They didn’t even speak a word. They didn’t taunt me or insult me. They didn’t even congratulate each other as they did it. Th-they just… hacked away at me in silence. My screams were muffled, and my head was held under Dueno’s hoof, almost crushed by it. I couldn’t move, and they kept flaying, and stabbing, and peeling away my flesh, all in complete fucking silence!”

My body moved on its own and I wrapped my hooves around the mare’s quivering frame, feeling her bony chest rise and fall against my own. I was crying with her, enveloped by her horrific tale. 

“It was hell,” Dish Panner whispered. “That’s the only way I can describe it – hell. The pain was simply unbearable. I was so certain I was going to die, but they were clever about it, you see. They didn’t stab my vital organs or sever any main arteries. That would’ve been too quick. They just chopped me up and left me to die. I lay there in the freezing rain, on the edge of consciousness, just waiting for death as blood pooled around me. It was by some sheer stroke of luck that a passerby found me, and I was rushed to the hospital.

“I never did tell anyone the truth. I’d seen what evil could do, and I was too afraid to contest with it ever again. I told everyone I was attacked by a mugger.” She chuckled meekly. “Some of my dissenters said it was self-inflicted, and I’d made the whole thing up as a publicity stunt. Can you believe that?”

“That’s horrible,” I replied, tightening my grip. “How did you cope?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I couldn’t even accept it as real, and I could wake up from the nightmare at any moment. I spent a week in hospital, doped up on drugs while the surgeons did what they could with skin grafts. I had this ridiculous notion that an all-powerful wizard would wrap me in light and heal all my wounds. I suppose such things are just a myth.”

“What happened next?” I asked, withdrawing my embrace. “Even after that, you still went back to being a food critic?”

“I didn’t really have any excuse. As far as anyone else knew, I had just been unlucky. My parents didn’t even try to dissuade me from it either. No matter where I travelled, there was always a danger, so I was just as safe touring the neighbourhood as I was sailing to the four corners. In a way, I wish they’d been more overprotective and selfish.

“A few months was all it took before I was back in the wild. I never did have another experience like that ever again. As for Corazon del Sol, I learned they’d gone bankrupt less than a year after my attack. I think one of the sons got arrested for stealing, but I didn’t read into it any further than that. I don’t know if that’s justice or… whatever it might be. 

“I got on with my life, but from then on I wore long-sleeved gowns and dresses wherever I went. I took every precaution to make sure no-one could see what I really looked like. Even today, I see myself in the mirror and feel disgusted. When it came to meeting stallions, I was beyond terrified. I broke off many relationships out of fear. Only two ever saw me naked, and each time I felt a great weight being slung over our shoulders. Each love-making session was tainted by my uncontrollable anxiety, and from them I could feel – what’s the word? – trepidation? As if by arguing with me or being even slightly dispassionate, I would assume it was because they couldn’t stand my body. It wasn’t the case at all; I knew I could be stubborn and abrasive and miserable sometimes. I never once accused either of them of being shallow. But I was also a pretty bad communicator, and intimacy was always a struggle. It’s no surprise I left those hopes behind and focused myself on my career.”

Dish Panner let out an exasperated sigh. “It truly was a saving grace that whoever put me in here had the decency to provide me with clothes. They did the same for Maribelle and Shetland, rest his soul. I wonder why. Maybe they thought our clothes were as much a part of us as anything else. Must be why Shetland got to keep his badge. Or maybe they brought us here as we were at the time, clothes and all. But then it seems strange that I’ve got so many copies of the same gown.” She shook her head. “I can’t even make sense of it. Can you?”

I shook my head also. There were still so many mysteries yet left unsolved.

“Well.” Dish Panner picked up her gown. “Thank you for your time. I hope you understand the significance of this conversation. I’m trusting you not to tell anyone about it, or I’ll completely lose faith in you.”

“I won’t,” I replied confidently. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thank you.” She began to slowly redress herself. “I knew you’d understand.”

Thankfully, I did. Everything had clicked into place not long after Dish Panner had begun telling me her story. This had been a performance. Not just from her, but from me as well. Showing me her scars, sharing her tragic backstory… even if it was all true, even if she had revealed herself to me as a sign of trust, what mattered most was what had been left unsaid. 

The knife.

I could see it all play out before me: Dish Panner’s masterplan. She couldn’t come and tell me outright or Monobunny would pick up our voices with ease and immediately be in the know. This plan was between her and I and nobody else on Equus. 

She’d brought a knife back with her the day before, even announced it to the rest of the group. Unbeknownst to us all, she’d snuck it back to her room, probably tucked it away in a safe place. This much, all those watching via the cameras would have seen, and as far as they knew, that was where the knife still resided. What Dish Panner must have done in the sanctity of her room, the lights snuffed out, was hide the knife flat against her belly before coming to meet me, keeping it inside her clothing, ensuring that even the cameras would be fooled. 

Next, she brought me to the only room in the building where the lights are always out, the one place she could remove the knife and hide it in a new location, out of the camera’s view. But to do that, she would need to undress herself. Not only that, but the hiding place needed to be somewhere that I could not only reach, but would seem innocuous. Coming alone would rouse suspicion, and meeting me here just for the sake of it would be nonsensical. What she needed was a veritable excuse that would allow her to do everything all at once. That was the purpose of telling me her story.

I had solved the first two trials. Now, Dish Panner was relying on me to do something even greater, something that Elsie had tried and failed to do.

I had been tasked with discovering the identity of the spy. If they were being lured into a trap, Monobunny would tell them through their earpiece and prevent it from happening. And so, they needed to be lulled into a false sense of security, taken somewhere that couldn’t possibly pose a threat. Killing them would be suicide, of course. That wasn’t the point. Dish Panner’s story was the other clue. My job was to slice them up. In complete silence, of course. And then, maybe, after hours of torture, they could be convinced to kill themselves for the rest of us. Then, we could finally be safe.

And I was the only one capable of doing it.