HOTLINE MARAMI

PROLOGUE: Who am I?

My name is, uh... what is my name? I don’t remember it. Well, that doesn’t seem to be that important right now. The bigger question is 'Where am I?' It’s real dark, pitch black, and I’m sitting down on what feels like, a sofa?

Jeez, it’s hot in here, though. Almost like somepony turned on the heater. What’s that noise? It sounds like, a tune on a bass guitar? There’s a weird glow coming from under the door that the tune is coming from.

I guess I should check it out. I have my ear against the door now, and it sounds like there’s somepony in there. Maybe not even one person, but two or three, all conversing quietly. I’m gonna open the door and see what this is all about.

I’m looking inside the room now, and three figures, ponies are looking back. They’re sitting in chairs, and they each have a colored glow around them. Each of the ponies is wearing an animal mask, all different. I can’t distinguish their colors because of the bright lights around them. What is this? Am I in a dream?

The room itself is abysmal, in a state of decay and disorder, with the floor dirty and spattered with what might be blood, and the wallpaper peeling and falling off.

I can’t make out any color in the three ponies’ coats because of the light, though I can tell their race. The first, on the left, is a pegasus. It’s wearing a mask shaped like a fox’s face and a summer shirt. It’s chair is surrounded by a bright, yet soft blue glow.

“Well, look who it is,” The fox-mask pony says, “We haven’t seen you in a while, have you been alright?”

As I open my mouth to speak, the pony in the middle interrupts me. It’s an earth pony, wearing a mask shaped like a chicken’s head. I can vaguely tell the gender of this individual from body-shape, assuming it’s a stallion. The stallion is surrounded by a peering yellow light, not dissimilar to that of a street lamp. The light stains out the color of the letterman jacket he’s wearing.

The chicken-faced pony spoke, “I remember you, but do you remember me? I would hope so, you have been doing some terrible things lately.”

I sat, now confused when the final pony on the right cleared his throat and looked at me. Another stallion, by girth, and wearing a mask shaped like an owl, with large golden eyes. I could still feel the stare of disgust he’s throwing me even through his unfeeling mask. The sharp suit he’s wearing is tinted a violent red by the light surrounding him.

He starts to speak, “You again!? I never invited you back here!” His voice rose, “Why are you here?! You're no guest of mine! I hate you!” I could tell from the contempt in his voice that he was either scared of, or just did not care for my presence, even though I didn’t have a clue as to why.

Chicken-mask put a stopper in Owl’s rage, and started to talk to me again, “So you don’t remember me at all? That’s a shame, because I remember the day we first met. You remember that day, right?”

I was about to speak again when a force almost like a winch pulled me from the room into the black abyss behind me. Upon exiting the room I blacked out, and stayed that way for what seemed like a few hours when I awoke in another dark room, this one half-illuminated with a putrid green light.

Judging by the wall tiling I’d have to say it’s a bathroom, although dank and abandoned. Even though it’s dark, I can still see two doors on either side of the room, and the room itself is small as well.

A stench I can’t identify, possibly garbage, is entering my nose, as I notice two stallions with their legs chained to either side of the room. They’re in bad shape, and nervously looking around. I can make out tatters of the same suits that owl-mask was wearing, although badly torn and stained with blood.

Looking up I see an intercom speaker, and almost instantly after noticing it a blare perturbs my ears and a voice follows, “Ah, good to see you’re awake. I almost thought you were dead in there.”

The voice was definitely male, and had a deep undertone to it; familiar for some reason, but nopony I could recognize.

I looked up at the intercom when it started to blare again, “If you’re wondering where we are, I can’t tell you. I’ve only got one job here; and that’s to show you how to kill ponies.”

My heartbeat began to race. This kicked my thoughts into gear and I finally began to question what was going on.

I opened my mouth and started to speak in a shaky voice, “K-kill ponies? Why would I need to know how to do that?”

After a few seconds of sitting there, the voice piped up once more, “You’ll need to know, trust me.” The voice paused and then continued, “See those stallions over there? Yeah, the ones chained to the walls. They’re murderers, both of ‘em. Thirty-six innocent ponies between the two. I want you to kill them both.”

I sat in bewilderment at this voice’s ridiculous request. I could never hurt anypony, let alone kill them, and what was I supposed to do it with? My bare hooves?

Almost like he was reading my mind, the voice put in, “Yes, with your bare hooves. It’ll be easy. Just give ‘em a solid punch to the head, and once they’re down, jump on top and bash their skulls into the floor until they stop moving. You can’t leave until you do it, so take your time. I don’t care.”

I was contemplating my options at the time. Nopony would ever know that I had been the one to splatter blood all over my hooves, and they were cold-blooded killers, but their weakness was noticeable, and it made it that much harder to choose.

I moved slowly to the first stallion and used my calmest tone of voice, “I’m sorry.” I punched him square in the face and he predictably fell down. I figured he was almost out cold because I had hurt my own hoof knocking him down. Even still, before he began to right himself I moved over him, took a firm hold on the sides of his head, and began to slam it into the floor.

It was sickening, the noise his skull made as it shattered piece by piece against the tile. After what I believed to be seven or eight repetitions I stopped and let go. He was definitely dead. I was disgusted with myself as soon I rolled my eyes over what was left of his cranium. Splattered; all over the floor, walls, and me. Especially me.

“Good, now you’re getting it. Only one more to go.” The voice says in an encouraging way. “I’ll even make the kill easier on you: there’s a baseball bat in the room to your left. It’ll make dispatching the other guy much easier.”

I got up off of the first murderer’s cadaver and walked to the door in question. Lo and behold, a blood-soaked baseball bat was lying under the light of a dirty lamp. I picked it up and went back into the room.

The first homicide I had just committed softened the second I was about to do. The second stallion was cowering in fear, quickly glancing back and forth from me to the corpse of his death-mate.

I said nothing this time, and quickly struck his temple without remorse. This knocked the pony out cold and I wailed on his head with the bat. The face of the murderer-pony became that of mush.

The intercom blared, louder this time, “Great job! You’re a born killer!” No I’m not, I thought in vain of what I had just done, “I guess it’s time to let you go. No, we won’t talk again, you animal. I hope I never get to meet you in person!” The voice let out a chuckle before shutting off the intercom completely.

A pain suddenly struck me, like somepony had just smacked me clean in the forehead with the same bat that I was holding. I dropped the makeshift weapon, and fell.

I put my hooves over my face, keeling in agony as my vision blurred and swirled with the color of the room, and in that instant my sight went black and silence fell around me.

“I know you remember the day we first met.”