"Trixie... That name sounds familiar. Wasn't she a performer?" Joe questioned, placing a hoof on a wall.

Doctor Whooves nodded, his mane undulating like the verdent leaves of a tree on a breezy day. "Yes. She was ostracized by Ponyville for her excessively bloated ego."

"Did she come back?"

He nodded again. "She did."

"Come on, Rainbow! Give me back my book!"

"Ha, ha! No way! You have to catch me first, egghead!"

Though the sky was cloudless and the sun was clearly the star of the day, two of the audience members were acting especially rowdy. They chased each other, laughing and yelling, occasionally taunting one another.

With a prismatic trail, Rainbow Dash sped through the air, a hardcover novel in her forehooves, her wings flapping steadily and majestically. Twilight followed close behind. She knew she couldn't keep up with the fastest pony in Equestria by hoof.

Her horn began to glow a diaphanous hue of purple, and the book began to glow as well. With a forceful tug, the book was wrenched out of Rainbow's hooves, and was sent spiraling toward the ground. Just before it touched down, the book was grasped by an invisible force, and began to levitate toward the purple unicorn.

With a triumphant grin, Twilight strode toward the cyan pegasus, who was flying in place several hooves above the ground, book floating behind her.

But Rainbow wasn't looking at her. She was looking at the horizon, her face contorted in surprise.

"Rainbow? What are you looking at?" Twilight asked, her smug smile quickly changing into a frown of discomfort.

She followed Rainbow's gaze and immediately spotted what the pegasus was looking at.

On the walkway was an indigo mare, her haggard and contused body sprawled on the ground.

"Trixie?!" they yelled in synchronization.

They sped toward the bruised mare and skidded to a halt when they neared the body. Sure enough, the mare's cutie mark was a moon and an oblique wand, but its splendor had been extenuated by the grime and dirt that covered it. She looked pitifully squalid. Noticeably, her conspicuous hat was missing. She was unconscious, not reacting to the jabs to her side and calls of her name.

Her eyes were shut, and her lips were a downward-facing parabola. Rainbow looked down at her pitiful face, but then, a hollow voice infiltrated her mind-

"When Trixie is through, the only thing they'll call you is loser."

The rainbow above her was bent and contorted, and the cyan pegasus was wrapped in its multicolored rays. She was sent spinning, her sense of direction completely lost...

The jeers and laughs of the crowd humiliating her, the electricity of the storm cloud stinging her...

"Serves her right! She was a total jerk, anyway!" Rainbow suddenly exclaimed, narrowing her eyes in memory of her own defeat that day. "Come on, Twilight. Let's leave her here." She spat on the unconscious mare's body, leaving a trail of transparent - but full of hate and abhorrence - saliva that dribbled down her side. With that, Rainbow turned around and began to strut away.

Disgusted, Twilight raised her voice. "No!" she condemned in a stern and castigative tone, which held enough force to halt her friend. "She doesn't deserve this. We can't just leave her here. She needs our help! If one of your friends was like this, would you have simply walked away?"

"She's not our friend."

The violet unicorn shook her head. "No, she's not. But she can be our friend. Anypony can change their character."

"Except for her. Remember how she acted when everypony in Ponyville found out that 'The Great and Powerful Trixie' wasn't as 'great and powerful' as she said she was? She fled. She didn't even apologize. She fled, Twilight," Rainbow emphasized, her voice still replete with hostility. She turned and looked at her companion.

Twilight's eyes narrowed as well. "And you call yourself the bearer of the Element of Loyalty? You're supposed to be the paragon of the virtue of loyalty, not to mention friendship overall! How can you propose abandoning a pony here where she could die?"

"Twilight, you don't actually believe that Trixie could actually change, do you?" Rainbow asked, incredulous.

"Yes, I do." Twilight stomped a hoof in exasperation.

They looked into each other's eyes for what seemed like hours. Time slowed to a crawl. The purple eyes peered into the pink eyes. The pink eyes peered into the purple eyes. It was a staring contest that would eventually decide whether to spare the damaged pony or not. They both knew that care for Trixie was exigent.

Rainbow hated losing. Everypony in Ponyville knew that. When she lost to Trixie, she felt a strong feeling of aversion build up inside of her. And humiliating her in front of the entire village? That was crossing the line way too far.

'But was Trixie so cruel that she deserved to be abandoned?' she pondered deeply, her good and bad sides fiercely battling against each other.

'No! She was already excluded by the village. Why torment her even more by letting her waste away outside?'

'But Trixie is unconscious. She wouldn't feel a thing. Besides, she shamed you! She tarnished your reputation as the most awesome mare in Ponyville. You were defeated by a showmare!'

'Is winning really so important that you would rather place victory in front of the life of another pony? You're just stooping down to her level!'

'Dammit, no! Don't compare me with her!'

After a few minutes passed, the multichromatic mare sighed in defeat. She reluctantly walked toward the limp mare. "All right, let's take her to the Ponyville Emergency Care."

"A few weeks later, Trixie - or as she still calls herself, The Great and Powerful Trixie - woke up from her comatose state. She didn't remember how she got there, or why she was found lying on the border of Ponyville. Of course, she wasn't too pleased with the demands to be less egotistical, but she reluctantly agreed lest she be exiled from Ponyville once more.

"Of course, everypony wondered why Trixie was found unconscious and laying on the street, Trixie herself in particular. She accused Twilight, one of the bearers of the Elements of Harmony-"

"Twilight? I know her! She visited my doughnut shop frequently when she was younger," interrupted Joe, earning a slight glare from Doctor Whooves.

"-of looting her, knocking her unconscious, erasing her memory, then feigning innocence. But that was ridiculous, and nopony took that claim seriously.

"Over the months, the bearers of the Elements of Harmony indoctrinated her in being less contemptuous, but their attempts proved to only affect Trixie only a bit. She had not outgrown her habit of referring to herself as 'The Great and Powerful Trixie,' but she had garnered more friends than she ever had. She is now helping to track down the Hacksaw Killer as well.

"Even though I did not know her personally, I was told that she was much nicer than she had been in her first visit to Ponyville."

Nodding his head, Joe motioned a forehoof in a circle as a tacit way of telling him to continue.

"Anyway, I was casually walking on the streets of Ponyville..."

The village of Ponyville was unusually sunny that day. The solar rays of the sun scattered through the village, clearly the victor of a game of hide-and-seek with the gloomy shadows. As usual, the town was bustling with ponies, who preferred to travel places without the usage of modern technology. The clip-clopping of hooves riddled the town square, blended in with the numerous indistinguishable voices of various ponies. In all, it was a crowded day in Ponyville, and the cheery sounds of happiness and friendliness dominated the infrequent sighs of despair.

A certain stallion was nonchalantly walking on the pavements of Ponyville. His dark-brown mane quivered in the soft and gentle spring breeze. As he took each step, the melodic sound his hoof made when it came into contact with the ground was an orchestral piece, resonating in only his ears. He was heading home; he had to take a break from work, after all. Because he was not really the sociable type, he only glanced nods at the ponies who greeted him warmly. He thought of his wife and his beautiful daughter. He thought of home, and the redolent smell of muffins. He smiled, and walked on.

"Excuse me, Doctor?"

His head whipped around. A mare and a small dragon, both wearing formal attire, strode forward, approaching him. He looked at them curiously. Not many ponies knew him, much less talked to him.

"Yes?" Doctor Whooves asked inquisitively.

"Hello! My name is Detective Rarity. We've heard a lot about you," said the gorgeous, white-furred mare sweetly, her accented voice profusely dripping with flattery.

"Why... thank you," he responded, slightly stunned.

"And I'm Detective Spike. We'd like to have a few words with you. In private, if possible. In fact, why don't we go down to the police station and talk it out there?" the dragon next to her suggested.

Doctor Whooves arched an eyebrow suspectingly. What did they want? Why did they want him to go down to the police station? Had he done something wrong? He felt as if he was invisible; the residents of Ponyville rushed by him, everypony a blur of nondescript colors.

Deciding to take everything facetiously, he gave a small chuckle. "I'm sorry, why is it that you want to ask me questions?"

The mare and the dragon looked at each other. Nodding her head, her horn began to glow. A bag was magicked out of nowhere and was left suspended between the heads of Doctor Whooves and the mare.

"Can you tell me to whom this belongs to, Doctor?"

Doctor Whooves studied the plastic bag and what was in it. His eyes opened wide. His mouth fell agape. He was silenced by utter shock.

A bowtie. Dark red, and about three inches in length. The tie gleamed inside the bag, vainly boasting its deep, majestic maroon shade.

"Y-yes," he gulped, "it's mine, but-" He could feel his saliva running down his suddenly-dehydrated esophagus, its muscles contracting and expanding, forcing down the aqueous substance down to his stomach. He felt extreme thirst, as if he had not drunk in several days.

"I think it's best if we sorted this out at the station," said the dragon.

After some hesitation, the dark-maned pony nodded.

"I don't know how that got there... but somehow, they had found the bow tie I had lost a few days prior in the scene of Lily's death."

Joe looked on in silence, stunned by his tale. He beckoned him to continue.

"They brought me to the station, and they began to ask me questions..."

"You had lost this bow tie a few days ago."

"Yes, I realize that," Doctor Whooves said with a tinge of sarcasm.

"And you have no idea how it was found in the Hacksaw murder scene," the lawyer pony in front of him said.

"Of course not," he assured, not an insulted look on his face, but more of a worried one. He had no idea about this. He didn't even know that a resident of Ponyville had been killed yesterday night!

"Do you have any suggestions on how this may have been found there?" she pestered.

"Well... Couldn't a unicorn have teleported it there?" he suggested.

"Doctor, you seem to overestimate unicorn magic," she responded rapidly, as if her words were a script for a play that she had memorized beforehand. She looked up and stared into his blue eyes. "An ordinary unicorn cannot simply teleport an object somewhere else unless they know of its original whereabouts. A unicorn couldn't magically teleport a lost object back to herself!"

"Then I don't know!" he threw his hooves up in the air, frustrated. "I don't know! I was asked to come to the police station because my bow tie was somehow found in the scene of a murder, and now, I'm being asked questions that I don't know the answers of!" he said, gesticulating wildly.

"Then what exactly were you doing last night?" the lawyer pony questioned, putting a free hoof on her chin, emulating a detective.

"I was-" he faltered. He looked out the window of the room, his morose reflection looking back at him. He sighed. "I was out somewhere."

"Where?" The lawyer persisted, lifting an eyebrow in curiosity. No, in suspicion. A sense of hatred boiled in him. How dare she! This mare in front of him was suspecting him of being the killer! Doctor Whooves kept his mouth shut, ruminating over whether to tell the truth or not. After several seconds of silence elapsed, the mare tapped her pen to her chin.

"Well, if you can't tell the truth-"

"I was at a bar." It was true. But he didn't provide any details.

The lawyer, again, raised and eyebrow, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink, and began scribbling on her parchment again. Vexed by the irritable scratchings of the pen on paper, he spoke out.

"What should I do?"

The mare stopped writing and looked up. She stared directly into his face, as if trying to peer into his mind, trying to pry the exact, detailed truth.

"What the hell should I do?!" Doctor Whooves rose from his seat, his face full of concern and desperation. His forehooves were planted on the desk almost aggressively, his legs visibly shedding beads of perspiration.

Setting down the piece of parchment, she replied in a matter-of-fact manner, "Well, as your lawyer, I'd suggest that you tell them your alibi right now. Trust me. It'll be for the better."

"Several days later, they called me back to the station, that exact same room."

The augmented tick of the clock bickered quietly in the background.

"What did they say?" queried Joe, also with a look of anxiety.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

"They told me..."

"Okay, the results are in," the dragon stated, stepping into the room as he flipped through the stack of parchments he held in his claws. Doctor Whooves looked anxious as he tapped a hoof on the floor impulsively. He had been waiting for this moment. He knew that he was innocent, but the consequences of him being wrongly accused would be devastating. Hell, his frequent thoughts about this situation sometimes convinced that he was the murderer himself!

The public was informed about Lily's death a few days ago, two days after the actual murder. The village was devastated. Cries of mourning filled the streets, and as Doctor Whooves walked toward the station, he could hear the sobs and prayers to Celestia everywhere. But they knew that the murders would continue. The perpetrator had never been caught, even after many, many victims had their lives forcibly torn away from their bodies.

As he trudged toward the station, he saw two familiar ponies: Daisy and Rose. If he remembered correctly, Daisy was the pink one, and Rose was the other. As with everypony else, they were crying. But they were crying waterfalls of tears, forming a trail as they walked by. They received condolences from the residents of the village, nopony daring to cry harder than they were. They were the closest friends of Lily, and he commiserated with them of her tragic fate. But he did not understand. Was losing a close friend really this tear-jerking? As he did not have many friends, he was not sure if the sorrow for another individual was really this melodramatic.

"Good. What do they say?" he asked nervously, his hoof still rhythmically tapping on the floor, emitting soft clops that resounded throughout the room.

"They match that of your alibi."

Sighing a breath of relief, Doctor Whooves' visage loosened, his expression of uneasiness and tenseness metamorphosing into an expression of satisfaction and felicity. The tension of the past several days vanished, dissipating into an invisible cloud of dust. His hoof stopped jabbing the floor and the room grew silent once more.

"But we would appreciate it if you would stay for the testimony of one of Hacksaw's survivors," the dragon suggested, hopping onto a chair that was several times taller than his stature.

"Oh, I have to get home. My family will be waiting-"

"Please. We would very much appreciate it," Spike said, his firm voice somehow coaxing him to stay.

Through the glass window next to him, Doctor Whooves saw a mare stumble into an adjacent room and sit in a chair. Her glossy, sweat-matted mulberry mane stood out from the glum atmosphere of the interrogation room. Her face bore an emotionless appearance like a children's puppet. The beautiful white mare he had seen before stepped into the room and sat in a chair next to her.

"Okay. Fine," Doctor Whooves agreed. Part of his mind wished for him to go home, to be with his loving wife and daughter, but another part incited a curiosity that forced him to stay and listen.

Spike gave a faint smile and turned to the interrogation. Doctor Whooves assumed that the pony inside of the adjacent room was unable to see either him or the dragon.

"Berry Punch," Rarity caressed with her soothing voice softly, but audible enough for him to hear. "Can you tell me what you remember, darling?"

The mulberry-colored mare looked down at the table in front of her, her expressionless face like that of a ghost. For several moments, the mare did not respond to the interrogator's request.

"Berry." That same assuaging voice, but slightly louder and sterner.

Slowly, the reticent pony's mouth began to move.

"What I remember," she began, "was that when I woke up, the only thing I tasted was blood." Next Chapter: Chapter 4: A Survivor's Tale Estimated time remaining: 11 Minutes