Birchwood!!ItYJvTB8H+f's unnamed story

Detective Johnson was his name, little more than an alias but at the same time anyone who'd heard of him knew instantly the severity of the situation the moment he needed to be brought in. Detective Johnson was a stoic man, usually keeping his feelings to himself although his work was his passion.
Today was an especially difficult day for him, the enigma of a string of disappearances not only in Silverkeep but across the nation was plaguing his mind and dreams due to his inability to figure out just what was happening. He sat at his desk, a map of the area littered with strings, thumbtacks, and photos sat there; his attempt to figure out how these kidnappings linked together.
All the victims were different, times were varied, even the vehicle kept changing. But the kidnappings appear to be at regular intervals.
A radio lightly played jazz in the background as he scowled at the little amount of data he could manage to gather.
"Detective! Get in here! We got a perp!" James barged in
James was a young guy, excited to work with Johnson, but it was shit like this that made him at risk for a solid punch to the face.
Johnson turned around, a quizzical look across his face, covering his initial annoyance.
James and Detective Johnson walked briskly down the hall of the police station to the holding cell, a seedy-looking man sat in the cell.
"He's one of the kidnappers, we managed to find out that there's more than one kidnapper but he's clammed up." stated Deputy Mary
She was an officer who always went above and beyond what her duty called for, saving James on one occasion. Her dark red hair tied up in a ponytail, she glared at the man in the cell through the one-way glass.
"Detective Johnson'll get him to talk, Mary." James blurted, a bit eager, but he never guaranteed anything he couldn't truly guarantee.
"We'll see. I haven't found a perp I couldn't break." a small smirk crept across Johnson's face
He put on his coat and turned down the thermostat on the holding cell.

70, 60, 50, 40 and then the thermostat wouldn't allow him to twist the dial any further. Johnson waited a few minutes, pouting himself a cup of coffee; black. When he came back, the seedy-looking man was shivering in the cold, metal chair.
Johnson walked in, dressed for the cold in the month of August, his stoner companion wearing little more than a tank and cargo shorts. Johnson sat across from him, and took another sip of his coffee.
"Tell me where you take the people you kidnap. What sort of structure is established in your... Profession?" A distinct lack of expression plastered across Johnson's face demanded obedience or risk dire consequences
The kidnapper remained silent, shivering and chattering his teeth and Johnson calmly sipped from his cup
"You can talk now, or I can make you wish you'd talked when I gave you the option." Johnson grinned ever so slightly
"Y-you c-c-c-can't keep m-me here fo-f-for long." he chattered, still managing to smirk smugly
Johnson smiled back "Actually, you have a warrant out for you already, Tony. Plus this is a federal situation now, I can keep you in this room for the rest of your life if I decide to. So why don't you wipe that smug grin off of your face, I don't want to see your meth mouth."
Tony realized his name had just been dropped, and his smirk faded and went back to chattering
"Wh-what? Y-you can-can't do that!" He began to stand
Johnson shot up, standing taller and giving his expressionless look to Tony, like an angered father "I can and will unless you cooperate."
"Suck it, old man." Tony muttered and sat back down
Johnson simply walked out to Mary
"Put some sodium pentathol in his blood, that'll loosen him up." He muttered, somewhat annoyed
Johnson walked back in after Tony had his injection, Tony seemed antsy in his seat.
"L-listen I'm sorry about what I-I-I said earlier. I'll talk if you turn up the h-heat please..." Tony pleaded, his fingers were begnning to lose their color, frostbite

"Alright. But you tell me everything, and I mean everything. If not, I leave you in here overnight and you can say goodbye to those pretty little fingers." Johnson stated plainly, knowing he had a disturbing amount of power in this situation
"A-alright... We don't have anyone specific we need to grab, just someone."
Tony kept blubbering, the sodium pentathol wouldn't let him stop if he overcame his fear of losing his fingers to the artificial cold
"W-we brought 'em all to a warehouse down in the southside and that's all I know man!"
Johnson raised an eyebrow
"Address. Now. Who recieves the people you kidnap?" Johnson growled, determined to solve these crimes
"We-we took them t-t-to a dude called the M-maverick, and then we l-left. It's on 29th and Dale. Now let me out of here!" Tony demanded
Johnson walked out of the room and turned to Mary and James
"Keep him in there, but turn the heat up."
"Detective Johnson! That was so savage!" James was super impressed, Johnson was his idol after all
"Come on James, we're headin' out. 29th and Dale. Apparently we're looking for a warehouse." Johnson leaned over to the speaker to the holding cell where Tony stood by the door "If you lied to us, you're not gonna like what I have in store for you."
Johnson and James walked out into the summer heat, getting into Johnson's Charger, a legally-illegally modified asphalt monster of a car. It was a police vehicle and as such wasn't bound to any of the road standards. Johnson tapped the key fob, his car chirped in return as he approaches. James sat in the passenger seat as Johnson stuck the key into the ignition.
Doing so, the car howled to life, its not-at-all-street-legal engine stirred under the hood, the modified speedometer that displayed 0-280mph was an obvious indicator that this car wasn't a standard one.
Johnson's speed demon pulled out of the lot and headed towards its destination, the engine growling as they came to a stop on Dale and 29th.

>Detective Johnson got out of the car, closing the door quietly behind him
>The warehouse was run-down but still showed some signs of use
"Hmm, it looks like Tony was right. But let's get a closer look, James get the camera and follow closely."
>Johnson hurried towards the wall of the warehouse, eager to be out of the line of sight as he ducked behind a stack of crates, James in tow
>Johnson pointed upward, to where a window allowed view into the warehouse, too high up to be readily noticable
>James nodded quickly and took his camera with him as he climbed up the crates, Johnson headed around the corner just as a van pulled into the warehouse yard and honked
>Detective hoped James had his camera ready, he disappeared back around the corner as the warehouse door opened
>Johnson dropped to the ground and peeked around the corner, one man in a biohazard suit walked out and carried two unconcious people back into the warehouse, there was one more still in the van as the man walked in
>Johnson sprinted around the corner and into the warehouse, disappearing into the maze of crates before the suited man could come back out
>Johnson's hand grazed over his police-issue handgun as he crouched, muted steps echoed as he patrolled the warehouse from his hidden status
>Only the one man in the warehouse, and a semitruck along with trailer parked opposite to where the van had pulled up
>Johnson looked up to the window, near the roof, James was there with the camera
>Johnson watched silently as the man laid the three hostages on a fold-out table and began messing with some test tubes on the other table
"They must be ready to pack up and go at any moment." He whispered to himself
>The man forced a pill down one's throat and followed it with a pink liquid
>Johnson's hand wrapped around the handle of his gun, ready to bring this perp in as well but his curiousity kept him watching
>The body of the kidnapped person began to seize up and violently shake on the table

>The body contorted in inhuman ways and shook
>After a few minutes of sickening contortion the man regained concsiousness and rolled off the table
>It... It wasn't a man anymore
>It looked like a pony or something
>The man in the biohazard suit went to force a pill on the next person when Johnson decided he'd seen enough
>He slipped his hand into his pocket and grabbed a familiar metal object
>His fingers fit into the holes like a hand in a glove, comfortably
>Johnson produced a brass-knuckled fist and snuck up behind the man
>Left hand on the right shoulder, he turned to the right instinctively, right into a brass punch to the gut
>The biohazard suited man doubled over from the first punch
>Johnson brought his elbow down on the back of the man's head, incapacitating him
>He set cuffs on him and beckoned James to come in
>Johnson got up and looked at the victims, two were still human
>The pony started to sit up, groggy and disoriented
>"Wh-where am I?" it-or he, maybe she asked
>The gray little pony tried to stand up, only to fall over onto their face
"James... Take care of this, call Mary. But keep this under wraps." Johnson asked
>James got on the phone as Johnson looked around the warehouse crates scattered everywhere
>A few faint voices could be heard
>All other sound faded as he focused in on this
>Cries for help, hopelessly muffled, but his keen ear picked them up
>Coming from... Johnson walked towards the sound, towards the unmarked semi
>He grabbed the handle and yanked it open
>Crates, packed full of these ponies, some of them unconscious, some barely clinging to the waking world
>The heat that was trapped in the trailer flooded out, the musty smell of sweat along with it
"Must've been a hundred degrees in there." Johnson climbed up into the trailer
>The crates were locked with some strange lock
>Suddenly the semi roared to life and someone slammed the trailer doors, locking the bolt in the process