I tilted the corpse's head, scanning the tips of the slash marks around where here horn had been. She might have been pretty before she was beaten up; the eye that wasn't bruised shut was a startlingly bright green, and her coat was almost flawlessly black. Her lip was split by a bright red line, evidence of a smack to the muzzle. The tips of her ears were newly ragged, possibly bitten, and her whole body was speckled with bruises.

"Add another one to the list, Kikuri."

Behind me, I heard the scribble of a pencil on paper. A mare, her coat a pale blue and her mane a loose ponytail of pink, trotted up to stand beside me. She peered at the body over the edge of her clipboard, her horn faintly sparkling green as she added a few notes to the sheet.

"How old do you think she is?" Kikuri asked, gingerly lifting the mare's lips with the butt end of her pencil to examine her teeth. "Oh, looks like she had braces, so that age test is out."

"They all have to be perfect in Canterlot," I muttered absently. "Put her down as about twenty."

"That puts her at the top end of the age range for this string, doesn't it? Other than the first victim." The mare went to use her pencil again, but glanced over at the body and magically incinerated it instead. She pulled a new one from her back, tapping it on her lips. "Although the first one could have been misaged. The body was in pretty bad shape."

"No, no, chances are that it was a test. If we could have identified that first body, chances are that it would have been someone close to the killer. The more recent killings have more diversity, so it's probably a pony attacking lone mares on the way home."

"I apologize if I couldn't catch the aura of a body that was buried in a dumpster for a week," Kikuri snapped, pushing a lock of pink mane from her purple eyes. "What a disgusting way to die."

I nodded, gesturing for her to close up the bodybag. She did so with a quick spark of magic, looking over at me.

"I can sense your discomfort. Do you want to be off the case?"

"No, no, that's not it," I pricked my ears, checking to make sure there was nobody else in the room. Lowering my voice just in case, I continued, "she's here."

"Lou, you're kidding." Kikuri's eyes widened. "Can you reach her? Should we go up to the roof?"

I felt the nagging in the back of my head, as if something was pulling at my mane. "She's going to come through. Have you got a pencil ready?"

Kikuri nodded, but her eyes were filled with blue-flecked worry. I shook my head faintly. She shouldn't let it drop now. I saw the blue flecks recede before I allowed the young mare to enter my mind.

Memories flooded my mind, hot and vivid. Pressing against another pony, my mouth filled with another's tongue. The touch of feathers on my coat. An overwhelming feeling of fullness. I pushed away the lewd memories, trying to find something more helpful. Bar lights, flashing against black tile. Bitter alcohol in the back of my throat. Something tasting off, and the world dissolving. Hooves that felt gentle pressing bruises into my sides. Another's heat on my muzzle. Heat everywhere; in my mouth, pouring from my numb forehead, in the pressure of the other ponies' hooves, deep in my body. The other pony was suddenly gone, but I was still there, dimly aware that when I weakly wiped the tears from my eyes there was something my hoof should have bumped into that was no longer there.

The memories receded as quickly as they had come, and suddenly the interior of my skull was a pitch black room. I lost feeling in my hooves, instead feeling something similar to stone as I settled in the false world. The other mare was there, too, her eyes wide with fear. I noticed, absently, that her body language was much younger than I had estimated.

Who are you? Where am I?! Her mouth moved, but the sound didn't reach me through my ears.

I reached out with a hoof, trying to offer friendly contact. I'm Ringer. I'm a detective. We found you behind a bar off Main Street.

W-what do you mean? Did something happen to me? She took my hoof, gingerly, and shook it. My coltfriend, did you see him? He went out without me, but then he went to the bathroom and I went outside for some air. He's not worried about me, is he?

I winced as I remembered the orange-coated colt bursting into my office, his yellow mane disheveled and deep bags under his eyes. He might have been worried about her, but seeing as he was in the bathroom so that she wouldn't see the other mare, love was not the reason. He knows you're here, I fibbed. How much do you remember from that night?

I was just drinking and started feeling kind of woozy. I'm a bit claustrophobic, so I asked the bartender if he could take my name and number in case I had to go home and take my meds. You know, so that I could pay the bill. And I already checked with my doctor, the anxiety pills don't react to alcohol. She was looking calmer as she talked. I was surprised by how much she had controlled the situation. Most times, they did have a slip-up with medication.

I nodded, silently wondering if I had misjudged her pretty exterior for some daft bar drifter. She seemed to sense it, too, frowning slightly and standing a bit taller.

I remember that a colt saw me near the door and asked if I was alright. I... I think it was a colt, their voice was quite masculine. I said I just needed some air, and he said he'd come out with me in case I needed medical help. I'd heard of drugged drinks before, so I was quite grateful. I wrote down his information on a piece of paper in my purse, pretending to use my magic to only take out a bottle of water. She nodded, tapping a hoof on the ground. If I had passed out, my purse would have been nearby. Did you find it?

We'll go looking as soon as we're done talking, I promised. For now, can you tell me what he looked like? In case we can't find your bag.

He was about my height with my horn, but he was an Earth Pony. Yellow coat, but brown mane. Brown eyes, white freckles. Looked like he could have been wearing contacts, but I'm not sure. He Cutie Mark was of... a clover of some kind.

Lucky, a bar patron that frequented anywhere that served alcohol. He was incredibly nice, even when drunk out of his mind. Of course, the night before this mare's coltfriend had come in, Lucky was found dazed in the alley behind the bar, with a goose egg on his forehead and no memory of what had happened the night before. It couldn't have been him.

We went outside, and he talked to me for a while as I tried to calm down after being inside for so long. He was... great, really. Really nice, even though he could barely stand. I remember that there was... someone else. Another stallion, sitting down somewhere down the alley. He was wearing a dark coat of some kind, and looked pretty messed up. Coat dirty, mane unbrushed. His mane was... a warm color. She shook her head. I-I'm sorry, it's kind of fuzzy.

That's alright. Just tell me what you remember.

She sat down, closing her eyes. The other stallion walked up to us. He was yelling, but he kept saying things as if there were other ponies there. Telling them to be quiet and stuff. The colt from the bar tried to stand up to him - I was having another panic attack - and the stallion took him out with a hoof. He slammed against the wall, out like a light. The stallion came up to me, and he... he started yelling at me. He started touching me, too, but I had started going into shock without my meds, so I couldn't really know what he was saying or doing.

I nodded. Is that all?

I... I think so. She opened her eyes. Did he... use me?

I walked closer to her, wrapping a hoof around her shoulders. She leaned into me, her body shaking. What's your name?

I'm Ebony Flare. You know, for my mane.

I hugged her tighter, the words catching in my mouth. Ms. Ebony, that stallion is evading arrest. You're not his first victim. When we're done here, I want you to go to Canterlot Castle and find a Nocturne Guard named Vigil. You'll know him when you see him. He'll help you from then on, okay?

She pulled back, concerned. Why? Why are you telling me to do this?

Ms. Ebony... that stallion killed you. My name is Dead Ringer. I... I talk to ghosts.

"Are you back?" Kikuri asked, drawing a small flashlight from her bag. She shone it into each of my eyes, squinting as they reacted accordingly.

"I'm back. Kikuri. In full."

"Did you learn anything?"

"She was raped. Lucky was trying to help her when he was attacked. I'm pretty sure it's the same stallion we've been tracking." I closed my eyes, remembering. "Her name was Ebony Flare, so she's the same mare that colt was looking for. You should inform him of her... end."

"Do you want the med team to do a semen sample?"

"If they can find anything, let them. I got some of her memories directly, and I'm pretty sure he pulled out. Check her hindquarters for any evidence. Other than that, there was nothing else he did that would have left anything for us to track. Tell Lucky he did a good job next time you see him. Buy him a drink, you know, the usual."

Kikuri nodded, taking notes. "Do you want a notepad so you can record the information you got?"

I shook my head. "Most of it was unrelated, or things I'll remember. Look, I need to go get a glass of water. Can you, uh...?"

"I'll go get the med team." Kikuri replied sofly.

We left the room, turning down different hallways. As soon as Kikuri was out of sight, I slumped against the wall, taking deep, shuddering breaths. I felt tears rising unbidden, and started shaking. This was always how it was after a particularly violent memory. I could almost feel the murderer's body against mine, hot and dangerous. I tucked my head between my forelegs, curling into a ball against the wall. If Kikuri returned before I could get a hold of my fear, she would make sure I was off the case.

Why did she have to be so damned kind?

I whimpered, wishing - not for the first time - that I had my mother's wings around me again. There was something incredibly comforting about wings around you. Maybe it was their fragility, the trust that had to go into such a vulnerable action. It made me wish I had wings as well, some days. If not to trust, than to escape.

I felt the sensation of lifting, and the air around me grew warmer. I lifted my head, seeing nothing but a thick coat of black and tan hair. Whoever it was took a deep breath, leaning against the wall.

"You should really wait for backup before you try to contact victims, Lou. You know that."

I allowed myself to relax, leaning into the furred chest. "I know, Mutt. But we need to solve this case."

"You could have waited for Soul Stone. He's got more safety nets than you do. What if the victim struck out?" Mutt placed a heavy paw on my neck, rubbing my mane.

"She wanted to talk to me. I could feel it." I shook my head, sighing. "If talking to the dead is my special talent, why is it so hard to recover from it?"

"Because you refuse to wait for backup," Mutt teased, setting me down. He smiled down, his short muzzle displaying pale yellow teeth. "Where's Kikuri?"

"She went to go get the med team. We need them to do more DNA swabs."

"It was one of those?" He frowned. "Disgusting. I checked for scent earlier, but that stallion must be so grubby he merges with the trash. You know, Lou, you should really get this tested. I might not be able to hug you back to health one day."

"No," I muttered, "but hopefully I'll be out of this career by the time that happens."

"Diamond dogs don't live as long as ponies do, Lou. I have an excuse to put myself in danger. You have a lot of time ahead of you." He ruffled my mane with one paw, sighing. "Try to get checked out after this case. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'll... try, Mutt. Promise."

He nodded, patting my head awkwardly before loping away. I leaned against the wall, shaking, and took a deep breath. The walls weren't closing in, there was nothing here to hurt me. I put a hoof on my chest, feeling my ribs expand as I took another breath. Yes, this was me. This was my breath, my hooves on the tile, my own mind racing.

I took another breath. Liquid steel in my veins, not mortal blood. I was powerful, towering, and I didn't need to be scared of some ghost.

Almost against my will, I curled up against the wall again.

It was hard to be powerful.

"Are you okay?"

I blinked, wiping my muzzle with the back of my hoof. Had I fallen asleep? Dumb question, I'd been drooling. For how long?

"I'm fine, Kikuri." I sat up, finding that my coat now shared the same creases as the badly-installed tile. "Just a little drained."

She frowned, but changed the topic anyway. "They caught him, you know. Eagle Eye went out with Pathfinder and tracked him down from the sky. He's in prison now, solitary confinement. We're not sure if he's going to evoke the death penalty or not."

I nodded. "I'm glad."

"Look, the interns called me down here because they were afraid to wake you up." Or, the unspoken thought lingered, if the stress had finally done you in. Was that the subtext? I wasn't sure. "They're closing up for the night. Come on, let's head home."

I rolled over in bed, turning my back to Kikuri. She let out a small whine of protest, but was too tired to do anything more. I closed my eyes, hearing the familiar crackle and feeling the warmth she let off that always meant she was drifting off. I looked over my shoulder, just to check that she was actually drowsy.

I ran my hoof down her gray muzzle, carefully avoiding her fangs and her curved horn. She muttered something unintelligible and pressed up against me, her thin wings extended carelessly across her half of the mattress. "Sweet dreams, sweetheart."

"Don't let the Changeling bite," she giggled quietly, resting her muzzle in the gap in front of my shoulder. "Do get some sleep, Ringer."

"I will," I promised. "You don't need to worry about me."

I do enough of that for myself.