Hoots of An Owl - Cally Ber Past (BLOOD AND GORE, LANGUAGE)

Set when Cally was within the Canterlot Police Department. A cold breeze set the pace for the soft snowfall onto the streets of south Canterlot, a false silhouette of purity. 'The Cliff' was the nickname of the lower-income part of the city. The soft cloud of innocence that was dimly lit by the moon was the only source of safety within the area of The Cliff. A barely standing few neighborhoods consumed by gangs, drugs, and prostitution. It was just another night in 'Princesses Country' to the local officers who worked the 3rd watch, evening shift. Cally Ber sat in her early year marked Charger with the usual black and white, 'Canterlot Police Department' written in blue capital block letters. The soft sounds of country music played from her favorite station out of the car radio. Sounds of clicking could be heard from within almost over the music, her wings working the keyboard as she wrote her report. 'Several gunshots heard within the neighborhood. No screaming or suspects.' were the comments of the call, every night 'Gunfire Disturbance' call. The mare sat in her dark navy blue uniform, cargo rip-stock pants, breathable collared shirt, and a name tagged flak vest with a few front pockets on her chest. Her belt fitted with the equipment issued was never a problem as she sat, but the damned radio continued to jam into her back from the antenna, making her fidget around. The windows of her vehicle slightly lowered so that she may listen to the sounds of The Cliff. Being night, it was always the casual loud music and ponies wandering around as if they were zombies. Luckily, Cally knew precisely where to go to not be bothered with flag downs or the blank looks of the ponies who partake in more illicit hobbies. With her lights off, the vehicle blended very well in the dark shadow of an abandoned school parking lot, her car parked in the corner facing forwards. Several sharp gunfires like sounds came from her northwest; however, at this point, it was her owl hooting in the dead of night. An exchange of shooting at the sky or ground was as usual as the cars that drove on the streets. The brown hoof of the officer reached for the radio to let the dispatcher know of the random gunfire, but a familiar high-frequency tone rang through instead."'Shooting on 3303 W Overton Road. Caller saying his son was just shot several times by some younger ponies before running.", scratched through the radio. "Overton Road...", Cally stated to herself before suddenly slamming her gear shift into drive. Overton Road, that was northwest, exactly where she heard the gunfire just moments ago. The 'good-time' radio shut down to silent, and her car's 'work-time' radio turned to almost obnoxiously loud. "3 unknown males, 1 wearing all black, black sweater with a redshirt under the sweater was the only one caller saw. Son is not responding. Caller hung up after yelling at the call center.", filled Cally's head with information from dispatch. A picture of a teenage male pony with all black except for a red undershirt was one of the only thoughts rotating in the officer's head. "Air 1 is unable to respond due to weather conditions.", dispatch stated calmly with initiative knowing one of the first questions he was going to hear. Tires turned wet from snow and heat of the speed, burned rubber leaving its place onto the streets of The Cliff once more. "3303 W Overton Road.", she repeated to herself over and over as the mare's eyes traced over every house along the road once she turned on the intersection. Red and blue lights were lighting up all around her from the police cruiser, reflecting off cars and windows of houses before covering a large green unicorn stallion embracing a small green unicorn on the side of the street. Blood. Red rivers of misfortune lead to a navy blue covered pegasus laying on the street curb, a pool of blood crawling down the edge of the road. With a pull of the door handle and buck of her legs, the door made way for the young officer to sprint to the victim. "You gotta move, sir.", Cally said confidently to the stallion before she gently tugged at the blood-soaked yellow collared shirt. Little pools of blood covered what seemed to be a mid-teenage colt, spots of gunshot wounds going up from his waist to his ear. A blue bandanna wrapped around his neck, resting on the street with him. "I need CFR (Canterlot Fire Rescue) to move in now. Victim possibly 27 (Dead) from gunshot wounds.", placed loudly into her radio microphone attached to Cally's green tabbed lapel. Her words were coming out louder than she would have wanted for the radio, but she had to drown out the motherly screams the assumed care-taker shouted at her from the doorway of their house. "I... He will be okay... You will save him..." The assumed father said in hollow words towards his assumed son. Tear soaked eyes looked over at the policemare, blood stained on his face matched with the irritated eyes of the stallion. Cally knew he did not want an answer as much as he did not want this situation to be even here. Instead, she imminently pulled up her right pant leg to reveal a black cloth holster containing a small black airtight combat gauze and rubber tourniquet. "I need you to help me out, sir. I need you to go to your wife and consol her. She needs you, and your son needs me right now.", the officer stated to the father before grabbing the black combat gauze and ripping it open. Cally pressed the 2 inches by 2 inches by 1-inch white square onto one of the many wounds onto the chest. The stallion was slowly getting up as his eyes locked on the white square, quickly turning red, pushed into the hole of his son. Shivering breaths as he nodded his head while backing away onto the green grass of the front yard, the watery orbs never leaving his son. Screams of pure despair echoed into Cally's ears, stomps and punches making soft thumps, then what sounded of a massive weight hitting the grass. The eyes of the officer moved from her now red hooves to see a shell as empty as a cavern it rested in. The large stallion laid on his side, facing her with wide eyes, curled as if he was a foal again. His head shaking left to right without stopping, all screams replaced by pure quiet loss. Grass and dirt kicked up around the father as his eyes filled with memories flying through his head. His red and green front hooves moved to his head before flung to his back and once more, released a long shout to the sky. The soft white square that was as innocent as the snow that surrounded them now as corrupted with blood as The Cliff. Cally continued to press the gauze in, knowing well that it would not fix anything. The red liquid gathered down to the back hooves of her, flashing violet in intervals from her police car's red and blue lights. A feeling of warmth started to cover her hooves while a chill of cold followed up the rest of her body like a shockwave. The voice of the mare at the door once again came into recognized words, "Canterlot PD fails once again! Where the fuck was you!? Where were you when this happened to my son!?" Threats and jabs of moral ethics were a daily conversation to her, but words were never anything that got to the officer. "Fuck you! Fuck you! You fucking hear me!? You failed to be here! You failed again! Y'all fucked up!" However, Cally truly felt these words. Thoughts of her working on her report, listening to music, and sitting in her car reverbed in her head. "My son... My son is dead because of you!" The officer's eyes began to moisten, no matter how hard she ate the words and swallowed her feelings. Black and purple mane covered Cally's face as she looked farther down, pushing down harder onto the wound. Her teeth gritting as she fought the feeling of guilt, not wanting to think it was her absence that killed the colt. The Cliff was a couple of miles full and a few in length, there was no way to be everywhere at once as soon as something happened. However, why did the blood feel more on her hooves than it already was? A stallion in a CFR navy blue uniform moved into vision, his white hooves moving her own as he spoke to the other medics. "We're transporting!" He shouted to his team. The officer picked herself up and backed away to keep space for the ones working. After picking her head up, she saw several officers already securing the scene and pushing back the mother. Cally opened the right front pocket on her vest and grabbed her small notebook for notes. Her left wing grabbed the black pen sitting in the pocket and took the cap off. Her notebook now red, white pages were flipped to the next empty page being held with the right wing. She took a deep breath before breathing out as she looked over at the father. He now sat on his flanks, his eyes fixated on the heavy hooves of dried blood. With one step, she made her way to the witness. With the other, she stepped over the liquid evidence of the offense. With the next, she continued in another night of The Cliff. Once again, the owl hoots.