Zodiac Part I
 
>you are Detective John Roddington. You’ve been on the police force of a medium-sized suburban town, Westwood, for five years
>usually nothing exciting happens around here. a break-in, a stolen car, last year someone stabbed someone else
>but you’re dealing with something different today.
>a serial fluffy killer
>yeah, sounds stupid. but despite what the Internet says, it’s still against the law to torture and kill animals.
>without a hunting license, anyway. but hunting is illegal within city limits
>and this guy is a real sicko.
>it’s not that you like fluffies especially. they’re cute enough but you’re a dog person
>your mother and sister both have fluffies - they seem sweet enough. a little dumb, but cute
>the first call came in a few months ago… someone found a butchered fluffy in the park
>figured it was a kid with a sick sense of humor. maybe fed the thing a firecracker.
>but over the last few weeks, the corpses have been piling up.
>ritualistic shapes and writings. fluffies killed in ways no living creature should endure.
 
 
>the fuck is wrong with people.
 
>worse, it seems the guy is becoming fixated on you, since you’re the lead detective on the case
>and sick fucks who torture animals… usually they move on to people eventually. gotta stop this guy. now.
>he calls himself Saint Francis. fucking sicko… using the name of the patron saint of animals.
>you examine the photos from the newest crime scene.
>before he was using some bastardized satanic ritual layout but now that he knows who you are… he’s playing to you. you’re his audience.
>every two weeks for the last couple of months, since he changed up his M.O., he’s been slaughtering fluffies to a zodiac theme.
>Virgo. nine fluffies, all female, all pregnant. he’d taken a power drill and used… an
attachment.
>drilled into their pregnant bellies going through the birth canal.
>the unborn foals were liquified inside their mothers. internal injuries killed the mares not long after
>four earth ponies, four pegasus, one unicorn.
 
>you glance through the other three crime scenes.
>the first time around seemed to represent Gemini. 11 fluffies. one for every star in the constellation.
>liquid mercury had been pumped into their anuses. representing the planet Mercury.
>you shudder to think of dying that way.
>five pegasus, five earth ponies, one unicorn.
 
>two weeks later, it was cancer. five fluffies suspended in a tank of water, only their heads above the water level.
>the tank had been filled with huge blue crabs. they must have slowly eaten the fluffies for a week or longer.
>two pegasus, two earth ponies, one unicorn
>hmm… one unicorn.
>they’re always looking for patterns with these guys. that could be a pattern. three groups killed, one unicorn each?
 
>check the case from two weeks ago.
>leo. fifteen fluffies tied to boards on their backs, their legs splayed apart.
>the fluff had been shaved from their bellies. big, mean alley cats had been put in the room with them. a couple dozen of them.
>plenty of water. no food. the allet cats made quick work of the fluffies, tearing into the soft flesh of their bellies.
>seven earth ponies, seven pegasus… one unicorn.
>it was a pattern. it had to be.
>but what did it mean?
>you busted your ass looking for something, anything, to tie the scenes together. no such luck.
>two weeks pass. you get the call.
>Libra. the scales.
>a scale had been set up in an abandoned building. five fluffies carved open while still alive, their kidneys removed.
>the kidneys were on the scales. five on one side, five on the other. balance.
>two earth ponies, two pegasus, one unciorn. the unicorns kidneys had been separated, one placed on each scale
>you know the guy’s going in order. if he sticks with that M.O. then scorpio is next.
>you’re not trained for this. and the feds won’t send any help. not unless the guy switches to human subjects.
>you bury your head in your hands. it’s gonna be a long night.