“I asked, where is the scotch?”

“That’s not funny, Spike.” Twilight deadpanned, glowering at her assistant as he dutifully slipped the worn bound book into its place on the wooden shelf. “And it wasn’t funny the first time, either.”

“Who’s trying to be funny?” Spike grumbled, skidding down the ladder and clattering to the library floor. He stretched and popped his back, eagerly embracing the end of his chores. “Booze can be good for dragons, you know. Helps keep our scales nice and shiny.”

Twilight rolled her eyes, and steadily flew down her checklist while mentally noting each and every item. All was accounted for, and they were ahead of schedule. She grinned cheerfully as she rolled up her list, already anticipating a nice cup of hot chocolate with Spike to wind down the day.

Of course, life is rarely as simple and easy as that.

Spike grumbled half-heartedly at his lack of alcohol, but the hot mug of cocoa was pretty good. He sat comfortably at the opposite side of the table, sipping his drink quietly.

Of course, not simply because Twilight was talking. Mainly because he was plotting how to retrieve his beloved ambrosia.

“And to top it off, Snips and Snails had to drag you back – do you have any idea how hard it is to clean baby dragon vomit out of somepony’s mane?” Twilight inquired, eyes narrowing. “Lyra is never going to get over that.”

“Aw, come on,” Spike groaned into his empty mug. “It was one time…!”

“Baby dragon, Spike-“ the unicorn deadpanned, emptying her own cup. “-Baby dragon. You’re on permanent alco-ban from this point forward.”

“What?!”

Spike spluttered in disbelief, dropping his handled mug with a light tink!

He had been prepared to launch an angry retort to the blatant injustice, but was rudely interrupted by a frantic banging on the front door.

“Library’s bucking closed, can’t you read?” he bellowed at the door, standing in frustration.

The slamming on the wooden door came to a halt as Twilight sighed, magically lifting the lock and seeing for herself the impatient visitor.

“Look, I’m really sorry, but – Applejack?”

Twilight hadn’t expected the vibrant orange cowpony to barge so brusquely into her home, let alone grab her by the shoulders. It took Twilight a full beat to really take in the details, to realize just how badly Applejack seemed shaken. Her mane was in a mess, with hairs flying off in random directions as one of the braids in her ponytail fell out. She had bags under her eyes, and she looked like she was nearly dead on her hooves.

That, and Applejack’s voice shook so much when she spoke that she was nearly crying.

“Darlin’, there’s something – there’s… there’s – I don’t…!”

“AJ, are-are you okay?” Twilight concernedly asked the shaken earth pony, closing the door softly behind her. Spike poked his head around the corner, curiously watching. The farm pony jumped a little as the latch closed, and Twilight noticed quickly that her legs were trembling mightily. Applejack was much more than just shaken, that was evident.

“… I think you ought ta’ see for yourself, sugarcube.”

“Sweet mother of Celestia.”

Twilight’s barely audible gasp of horror and disgust did the scene injustice.

It was difficult enough, keeping up with the nearly rabid Applejack. By the time Twilight finally arrived at Fluttershy’s cottage, completely out of breath, she discovered Applejack throwing up again. However, she did make good time; it wasn’t until the farm pony begrudgingly opened the creaky door to the cottage that Twilight finally understood why Applejack was so wildly upset.

Fluttershy’s cottage couldn’t be called a mess; as a matter of fact, it was still fairly neat and orderly. At least, it was for the first few steps. In the adjacent room, the put-off unicorn almost lost her stomach as well.

It wasn’t just a mess.

It was an outright bloodbath.

Pale custard feathers littered the floor from where her friend’s wings had been violently ripped and thrown away. Twilight almost stepped on one of the pristine appendages. Following the trail of downy litter led Twilight to a small lamp, where Applejack had evidently left it. Unsurprising, considering the circumstances; although she was lucky that the entire cottage hadn’t caught fire from the flickering candlelight within.

Awful blood splatters, steadily growing in size and thickness drew her line of sight up the wall.

Several splotches of red rabbit-shaped paw prints coated the walls, along with grisly hoof marks galore. Several spots had been marked along the walls, where wings had been clearly been dragged along them.

The dim glow from the lamplight made it worse, somehow. The poor pegasus had been cut in many places, and many of her joints stuck out at odd angles. Seeing Fluttershy so brutally nailed to the wall, an expression of horror plain on her features made Twilight’s scream catch in her throat. Then again, Fluttershy was trapped in a silent scream of her very own, mouth hanging open in a terrified grimace while a single shining trickle of blood leaked out.

Twilight swiftly joined Applejack in voiding her stomach.

The violet librarian was sincerely thankful that she hadn’t let Spike tag along. It had taken her even less time to return home, and she was sweating heavily as she frantically scribbled the letter to Princess Celestia. It would only be a short matter of time before her request for a royal investigation was accepted. A brief flash of fear that Princess Celestia might be too busy to assist her crossed her mind; or worse, that her mentor might brush her off altogether. She quickly dismissed such thoughts, focusing instead on her befuddling mission.

“Here he is,” Applejack grunted viciously, toting the bird cage up onto Twilight’s table. The bird cage contained no birds, of course – instead, it’s prisoner was a once-white rabbit.

Angel had evidently gotten a fair amount of blood on himself, and the way he was flailing viciously at the bars of the birdcage gave him an insane, feral look.

“… You couldn’t possibly think…?” Twilight began slowly, but the evidence was relatively damning. It just seemed so impossible that Angel could kill anything. Then again, it seemed impossible that anypony would harm Fluttershy. She shuddered, wiping the gruesome images from her mind to focus on her task.

“Ain’t no way to be sure,” Applejack said cautiously, giving the rabbit a mean glare. “but when I got ahold of ‘im, he was makin’ a right ruckus.”

Twilight rubbed her temples, thankful that she’d sent Spike to bed early.

“Applejack, it’s highly unlikely-“

“Jus’ covering all the bases, darlin’.” Applejack wore a determined expression, making for the door. “I thought you could try’n figure something out, and I’ll rally th’ rest.”

“Good thinking,” Twilight agreed, nodding as she placed a tablecloth over the very angry rabbit, who was shaking the bars with fervor. “One of them might know something about… about this.”

“About why Angel did it, you mean,” the cowpony spat in disgust at the birdcage, furrowing her brows. Twilight could certainly see her point of view, but something about it just didn’t add up.

It was silent in the library for a long while, the only noise coming from the clop clop of Twilight’s hooves as she paced. At least, until Angel began rattling the bars to his impromptu prison again.

“Oh, stop that, will you?” Twilight groaned in frustration, pinching the bridge of her muzzle. She needed to think.

“Uh, Twilight?”

Her head snapped up, and she spotted Spike hurrying down the stairs. Wordlessly, he dropped the scroll into her hooves – Twilight felt like kicking herself. What was she thinking, sending Spike to bed early when she was expecting a reply from the princess?

Shaking her head, she unraveled it and read the contents. And then reread it. And then again.

“What’s up?” Spike asked, peering under the tablecloth at the rattling Angel. Scrunching up his nose, he dropped the cloth when he saw what the rabbit was coated in and backed silently away.

“There’s been a murder,” Twilight replied breathlessly, eyes glued to the letter. The broken royal seal was like a monument of mockery to the unicorn.

“What?!” Spike yelped, glancing back at Angel. Eyes darting back and forth in confusion, he awaited an answer from Twilight. When none was forthcoming, he asked “Who? What happened? When? How-?”

“Celestia.”

“Princess Celestia murdered somepony?” the dragon gawked in distress.

“No, Spike.” Twilight shook her head in despair, reading the letter once again. “Celestia isn’t going to help us find Fluttershy’s killer – she’s on a diplomatic traversal in Saddle Arabia.”

Spike ran a claw down his face, thinking heavily. That anypony could ever hurt such a sweet and innocent friend like Fluttershy seemed so ludicrous.

But, then again, Angel wasn’t a pony.

Eventually, Spike asked the same question that had been on Twilight’s mind all night.

“What are we going to do?” he said uncertainly, scratching a spot on the back of his neck. “I mean, you don’t really think Angel killed Fluttershy… do you?”

“I don’t know, Spike…” Twilight stopped her incessant pacing suddenly, a spark in her eyes as a brilliant idea occurred to her. “Why don’t we ask him?”

“Har de har har.” Spike grumbled, crossing his little arms as he took his seat in one of the kitchen chairs, grateful that Angel had finally given up on his mad rattling of the bars. “You don’t have to-“

“No, Spike!” Twilight grinned, trying to contain her excitement. Thoughts of Fluttershy quelled it pretty quickly. A more somber expression on her face, Twilight telekinetically lifted the cloth off the cage with a single yank.

Immediately, Angel began rattling the cages again. If she didn’t know any better, she’d have guessed that he actually looked a little scared.

“Uh, Twilight?” Spike inquired nervously, scooting backwards in the chair. “You’re… you’re not going to do what I think you’re going to do, right?”

“I’m not letting him out, if that’s what you mean,” she said matter-of-factly, a luminescent glow encompassing both her horn and the small bunny. Angel promptly let go of the bars, staring in shock at his own paws as the magic took effect.

For the longest time, Twilight and Spike waited in quiet and anticipation. Spike clenched his teeth, unwilling to break the silence.

Much to Spike’s surprise, it wasn’t even Twilight that spoke first.

“Aye, lass. What the fuck.”

Author's Notes:

Because a profane talking rabbit is one of the few things that could actually improve a murder/mystery story.