“...And after Blueblood’s funeral, Princess Celestia locked herself in her chambers without so much as a peep. Princess Luna-”

Click.

“...The Changelings must’ve had something to-”

Click.

“...And I say to you, forgiveness is for everypony! No matter your sins, the Goddess of the Sun will always have room in her heart to forgive you! But you must first forgive yourself! Forgive yourself and others can forgive you!”

Click.

The room becomes silent without the voices of the radio as the hoof of an azure stallion with a silver pen cutie mark slides off the dial radio. Only the pattering of rain and a faint howling wind provide the resident with company, and it only reminds him of the death coming to claim him.

The unicorn stallion's azure coated hoof runs through his silver mane, messy with weeks of minimum care, and his glazed, bloodshot eyes drift down to the wooden flood boards. At one point they had been clean and without as much as a scratch, but now he doesn't need light to show how much it has degraded. He can feel the scratches and carpet of dust under his hooves with his hoof, and he can care less about it. His end is nigh, and he as nothing left, anyway, so there is no point in keeping his prison tidy.

A flash of lightning rips through the sky and thunder shakes his window and bones as a screech of wind and barrage of hard rain assaults Canterlot's growing skyline. A moment later, his chest tightens and an unpleasant feeling crawls up his mane.

He swallows nervously and turns around to see a shadow of pony standing in the corner, watching him. Despite the fear poisoning him, he still approaches the intruder with tears pooling in his light purple eyes.

“I am still unforgiven, aren't I?” asks the unicorn to the shadow.

“That is not my decision to make, Eclipse,” says the shadow with a deep, fatherly tone. The visitor steps forward, turning into a solid mass of black in the shape of a unicorn stallion as his hoof steps echoing in the loft. “I know your sins are unforgiven by most mortals, but I cannot speak for the Higher Powers. Their judgment on you is entirely up to them.”

The azure stallion, Eclipse, turns around and grabs a half empty bottle of hard cider from his glass coffee table and takes a large swig.

“I prayed and done all the other rites for what I’ve done, but all I’ve endured was more pain!” sobs Eclipse while swinging the bottle around in exaggerated movements, splashing the floor and expensive furniture with liquor. He takes another gulp of his drink and sits down with an audible thump on his once snowy white, fluffy couch, now covered with old liquor stains. “What point is there for begging for forgiveness if all my mistakes still take me to this place?”

The shadow pony’s horn glows and gently takes the bottle away from Eclipse and sets it down on a place mat on the glass table. Eclipse reaches out with his magic, but the strange pony gently puts his hoof on his shoulder, convincing the distraught unicorn to stop and look at him with watery eyes.

“Eclipse, I know your pain and how you wish you could take it all back, but you must understand that creatures such as yourself possess free will, therefore are not bound to forget or forgive,” says the shadow pony.

Eclipse hunches in his seat, covering his face with his hooves and begging through his whimpers as the visitor steps away from him.

“I am sorry, Eclipse. I can try to guide your daughter to a better path, but I cannot save you from him,” says the shadow pony.

Eclipse's hooves slide off of his face and he opens his mouth to suck in some air and speak to the visitor, but when he looks, he sees that the shadow pony is gone. There is a flash of lightning that lights up the room, followed instantly by the deafening thunderclap that rattles his bones and shakes his loft.

The wind howls like a tortured animal and a wave of rain beats against the patio window, completely distorting the outside world with a watery wall. It is at that moment that the door is shattered, leaving just a few slabs of broken wood on the hinges while the remains fly towards Eclipse.

Eclipse shields his eyes from the wood and hears the pieces of his door skid across his floor. When he lowers his hoof, his ears droop and a releases a loud, terrified whimper as he backs up, trembling violently with tears rolling down his cheeks that platter to the floor.

Standing in the doorway is an imposing stallion whose features are nearly completely hidden by his drenched poncho. Only his beige colored wings are exposed, and they are given a hard flap as he snorts hot air and scuffs his hoof against the floor.

Eclipse slumps to the floor, vision blurred with tears and lips trembling. “Forgive me.”

The intruder charges and-

Eclipse screams and jolts upright in his bed, body soaked in sweat and face wet with tears. He scans his room, heart thumping in his ears and breathing ragged, and when he sees nothing, he wipes his eyes and muzzle and blinks to get the tears out of his eyes. As his eyes adjust to the darkness he can see his lavish, imported dresser, the expensive oil painting of himself looking proud of his life’s achievements, and his many exotic sculptures of dragons in various poses. All mean nothing to him, though.

Eclipse looks to his window when thunder rumbles after a flash of lightning, and after swallowing some spit, he slides out of his bed and walks to his living room. He does not bother turning on the lights since he is provided enough from the lightning and the night lights that dot his abode.

When Eclipse is by his glass coffee table, he levitates a half empty bottle of hard cider and takes a sip of it while staring at the storm that is raging outside from his glass patio doors. He can’t see anything and he can hear his grandfather clock ticking louder than it should be over the storm, like a sick reminder that his time is running out. When the grandfather clock chimes at midnight, he walks towards it, opens up the glass case protecting the pendulum and forces it to stop using his hoof while he chugs the last of his drink. He doesn’t want to hear the clock. He already knows he’ll be dead soon.

Eclipse trudges towards his kitchen, tossing the empty bottle in the trash along the way, and raids his wine cooler in hopes of getting a decent drink. What he finds instead are bottles ranging from half empty to just mere drops to completely dry. and pulls out an almost empty bottle of wine. He takes a swig of it and his face contorts to that of disgust and he scowls as he pours the disgusting drink down the sink, upset that one of his final drinks tastes disgusting.

As the red liquid swirls down the metallic tube, Eclipse puts his hooves on the sink and watches it disappear with morbid fascination. It looks like blood, and it sends a shiver up his spine. He only breaks away from his trance when only a thin layer of red bleeds into the drain, and only then does he return to the wine cooler in hopes of getting a drink that tastes good. However, after a quick inspection and removal of the bottles that might as well be empty, nothing strikes his fancy so he slams it shut and pours himself a glass of water instead.

With a glass of water in his magical grip, he shuffles into his living room, towards his stained white couch, and stops when he is by his dial radio which rests on a fancy nightstand next to his couch. He stares at it, contemplating if he should listen to some music before Charon comes to claim him.

The return of lightning and thunder helps Eclipse make his decision.

His hoof presses the power button and the radio crackles to life. At first there is static, but after making some odd hissing and popping sounds it finally gets to playing.

“...And after Blueblood’s funeral, Princess Celestia locked herself in her chambers without so much as a peep. Princess Luna-”

Eclipse pales and uses his magic to turn the radio's knob. It clicks to the next station.

“...The Changelings must’ve had something to-”

“No. No no no no, please Celestia, no,” whimpers Eclipse while magically turning the knob again. Another click, and the channel changes. “Please, Celestia...”

“...And I say to you, forgiveness is for everypony! No matter your sins, the Goddess of the Sun will always have room in her heart to forgive you! But you must first forgive yourself! Forgive yourself and others can forgive you!”

“No!”

Eclipse rams his hoof against the radio power button and it breaks upon impact, creating a sickening crunching sound with sparks that shoot out. The noise drones to silence and Eclipse repeats himself in sorrowful whimpers as he slides to the ground, sobbing and shaking.

“No, please Celestia, don’t-please don’t let it end like this,” he begs quietly.

He looks up at the ceiling, waiting for a divine voice to tell him that everything will be okay, that he will be safe from any harm. But all he hears is the rain battering against his windows and the howling wind to accompany them.

He moans and lies on the floor, covering his head with his hooves. He knows he has been forsaken.

As he squeezes his eyes shut in a useless attempt to escape his fate, he thinks about his how he deserves what is coming. But in spite of what his humble side is saying, he really wants to run and live out his days in hiding, but someone like him can’t stay hidden for long. Especially from the one hunting him. Just like he found his associates, the guards in his pocket, his informant. He found them all, and now he’s coming for him.

Eclipse looks up at the ceiling again. “Please... save me...”

Nothing.

Eclipse sniffles and nods his head in reluctant understanding. He warily stands up and walks towards a small bookcase filled with records and as he searches through them, he notices a picture of him with his wife and child. He smiles sadly and wipes tears from his eyes as he grabs it with his magic, then he finds the record he wanted nestled against the case's wall. He gently pulls it out with his magic and carries it to the gramophone. After setting it up, he puts the large, vinyl disc on and let’s the music play. There is a small crackling at first, but it soon turns into the sweetest melody he has ever heard.

He carries the picture to his couch and sits down, gently stroking the framed photo with his hoof as the soft string instruments and wordless hymns fill his loft with one last sense of serenity before the inevitable. He takes a deep breath and hugs the picture to his chest and closes his eyes as the violins from the track became louder and more peaceful. Not even the dreadful storm outside can interrupt his last moment of peace, but his ears twitch when he hears a floorboard creak from outside his loft door. He slowly opens his eyes and sees a shadow taking up the light shining under his door from the hallway.

His heart speeds up and his throat clogs with the wet lump. He knows who it is, and he knows his time has run out.

“Forgive me,” begs Eclipse quietly.

The door is destroyed by a solid kick that leaves only splinters on the hinges while the door's remains scatter across the floor and fly towards Eclipse. The azure stallion flinches and trembles violently as he hugs the photo closer to him without making any attempt to run. He knows its pointless.

The intruder expands his beige colored wings and snorts hot air as it scuffs imposing stallion stomps in snorting hot air and scuffing his hoof against the floorboard. His facial features may be hidden by his drenched poncho, but Eclipse knows who it is.

Eclipse closes his eyes, bows his head, and tears roll down his cheeks as he rubs the framed photograph for the last time. “Forgive me.”

A middle aged grayish-purple unicorn Night Guard with a small, rough beard and wearing a drying poncho over his lavender armor stares over the splintered railing of Eclipse’s loft. Judging from the damage, he is suspecting that Eclipse hit it before falling to his death. If was even alive by that point.

The Night Guard looks up for the briefest of seconds as the pegasi clear the storm clouds away from the apartment before looking over the edge again. Now that the clouds are cleared away he has the moon and stars to give him some light so he can better see down below. There is a growing crowd that is being kept at bay by a yellow tape and rookie guards while the more experienced ones inspect the gory pancake on the sidewalk that had once been Eclipse.

The unicorn huffs and passes through the remains of the patio door, which is just a thin, broken border of decorative wood with jagged glass on its edge. He carefully steps past the broken glass and wood, and then inspects the trail of blood leading up to the balcony while other Night Guards collect evidence by taking pictures and placing little markers at the points of interests. These points are areas where the furniture is shattered, the walls are damaged, the remains of the front door, and, of course, the bloody trail.

A Night Guard pegasus approaches the old unicorn, who is now inspecting the pool of semi-dried blood that is covered by glass from the smashed coffee table.

“Detective Jerkins, we talked to the neighbors and no one saw anything. They only heard the fighting,” says the pegasus.

“Figures,” mutters Detective Jerkins while wiping snot from his nose, cold courtesy of the horrible weather. “There never are any good witnesses.”

“We talked to the doorpony, she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, either.”

Detective Jerkins wants to groan, but gets a particularly painful sneeze instead. He swears under his breath and sniffles as he levitates a handkerchief from his poncho pocket and wipes the snot from his nose. He grimaces at the mucus on his handkerchief and carefully folds up the piece of cloth and sticks it back in his pocket. The grayish-purple unicorn almost wants to whine about how much the cold sucks, but that won’t get him anywhere. Besides, he wants to keep the stoic attitude he’s known for. It makes it easier for him to ignore stupid things, like frivolous conversations and horrible jokes.

While the sick unicorn inspects an indent in the wall that has a little bit of blood on the edges, an earth pony stallion almost half of Detective Jerkins' age trots in with a proud smile. The newcomer has a gray coat and a slicked back green mane and tail, and his wet helmet is hanging next to him, no doubt ignoring any uncomfortable feelings he's getting.

“Hey, L. Roy, I found something!” says the stallion energetically.

“Put your helmet back on, Kicker,” orders Detective Jerkins. “And how many times do I have to tell you not to call me L. Roy when on duty?”

“More than I can count.”

Detective Jerkins rolls his eyes.

“Anyway, I found that the emergency exit has been forced open from the outside,” says the younger stallion, Detective Colt Kicker.

All eyes turn on Detective Kicker and he smiles proudly while slipping on his helmet. When Detective Jerkins looks at the other guards, though, they resume their business and he goes back to looking at his partner.

“Are you sure it was from the outside?” asks Detective Jerkins skeptically
.
Colt nods his head quickly. “Yep, I did all the stuff. I looked at the scene, studied the scene, looked at the door, asked about the door, looked at the door again, labeled the door and then told the nice lady up front how she reminds me of a lunar rose.”

Detective Jerkins frowns. “Kicker, I swear to the Celestial Sisters, you are hopeless.”

“Thanks. I try my best.”

“Definitely hopeless.”

Detective Kicker goes outside to peek over the balcony, completely oblivious to his partner’s statement, and makes a low, drawn out whistle as he looks at the mess dozens of stories down.

“Wow, somepony really had it out for this guy,” says the earth pony carelessly.

Detective Jerkins walks next to him. “What did you expect? He was a crime lord. Crime lords have rivals. And this rival wiped out his entire empire before giving him the window treatment.”

Detective Kicker’s ears droop slightly as he looks at the older unicorn. “You think a rival did this?”

“Possibly. I know Grizelda’s moving into town and she’s making room to make her little self nice and cozy in our town. We all know griffins are violent. Especially the bad eggs like her.”

“Where’s the ‘but’? There’s always a ‘but’.”

“But we’ll have to see what the evidence says before pointing hooves.”

Detective Jerkins walks back inside without another word, followed by his partner seconds later.

“Hey, L. Roy,” calls Detective Kicker.

Detective Jerkins stops and sighs heavily as he turns to give the earth pony a very annoyed look. “What is it, Kicker?”

“Do you think this whole thing-” Detective Kicker waves his hoof around at the mess “-was supposed to be symbolic or something? I mean a crime lord was tossed out his window and splattered in front of a crowd.”

“Message or not, this whole thing should blow over quickly. Nopony is eager to figure out who murdered one of Equestria’s crime lords.” Detective Jerkins starts towards the exit. “Besides, we should thank whoever did this. This was the last of the Eclipse Mob.”

“One less crime ring to deal with, then.”

“Precisely.” Detective Jerkins sneezes explosively, causing some heads to turn, but once he looks at them they are quick to look away and resume their work. With that said and done, he looks back at Detective Kicker. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a cold to take care of.”

Detective Kicker waves farewell to Detective Jerkins, and when the unicorn is out of sight and his hoofsteps are gone, Colt lowers his hoof and looks out the destroyed patio door at the ever growing, skeletal Canterlot skyline, shrouded by night and rain. Then he glances at the broken oil painting of Eclipse that has fallen to the ground. After unenthusiastically studying the picture for a few seconds he walks over to a display case that has surprisingly been spared of any damage. He takes note of all the little figurines locked safely inside, all of which are some kind of dragon with a moon varying in poses and sizes.

Detective Kicker pulls away and lets out a depressed sigh and smacks his lips. “Nightmare Moon. Discord. Changelings. Crime rings. Assassinations. Murders... Yeah, Equestria’s going to crap.” He looks around and scuffs his hoof on the floor to put his boredom at ease. It doesn’t work. He groans quietly and scans the area before he nudges the pegasus Night Guard. “Hey, I’m going to grab some coffee, you want some?”

The pegasus looks confused by the sudden offer. “Um... no thank you, sir, but if you could grab me a donut that’d be nice.”

Detective Kicker smiles. “Sure thing, buddy.”

When he turns to leave, though, the pegasus steps after him.

“Excuse me, Detective Kicker, but do you think that this whole thing is symbolic... or something?” asks the pegasus meekly.

Detective Kicker stops and his whole body visibly droops as he scans the crime scene before looking at the Night Guard. “I do. And call me paranoid, but I think whoever did this is far from being done. Let’s hope I’m wrong.”

Author's Notes:

Chapter has been edited on 26 Jun 2014