The Trotsburg Filesby CogWingChaptersNovember 3November 4November 5November 6: 1November 6: 2November 7: 1November 8: 1November 8: 2November 7: 2November 3[Timestamp: November 3 8:46 AM] “Check. Check. Check.” “What are you doing?” “Just testing out my new camera.” “Is it working?” “Audio is, but the video’s not coming in.” “Maybe if you took off the lens cap, it would work better.” “What? Oh!” Light floods the lens as it takes its time focusing and balancing. In front of the camera stands two stallions; one is a pegasus and the other is an earth pony. The pegasus is a beige colour, with a brown mane to match his eyes, with a cutie mark shaped like a pair of wings with a gear in the centre. The earth pony is a dark grey with a black mane and teal eyes, and a cutie mark shaped like a basketball with an eighth note accenting it. Both of them stand in a small room with wooden paneling on the walls, and a darker wood finish on the floor. “That’s better!” A voice from behind the camera states. “Alright. Check. Check. Looks good!” “Now that you’ve had fun with your new toy,” The pegasus smiles, “Mind helping us pack?” “Yeah, sure.” The camera is jostled. [Timestamp: November 3, 8:54 AM] A backpack full of clothing and camping supplies comes into focus while breathing can be heard behind the camera. The backpack rests on a small bed with plain sheets and blankets. The camera pans over to two other backpacks, the beige pegasus is still fitting everything into his, and the earth pony is just closing his own. The pegasus looks up. “Is that thing on?” “Yup,” The pony behind the camera replies. “Where did you even get that?” the earth pony adds, slinging his pack over his shoulders. “It was on sale, I thought it would be a good idea for the trip.” The view is turned as it can be assumed that the camerapony is checking the film. “Swift, it’s not really a nature walk.” The beige pegasus notes, shoving a hoof into his bag to pack everything down. “I know that.” The camerapony says, turning the camera right side up again. “This was my idea, remember?” “Yeah,” The grey earth pony nods, “But I’m more in it for the adventure, you made it sound cool.” “Why don’t you tell all those watching from home what it is we’re doing.” The pegasus grins, closing his bag up. The camera is turned around to face the holder, a blue pegasus with a black mane, who is smiling broadly. “Hello Equestria!” He grandly announces. “My name is Swift Justice.” He turns the camera on the other pegasus. “That’s my buddy Rivet.” “Hello.” Rivet waves. The camera pans over to the earth pony. “And that’s Clyde.” “‘Sup.” Clyde nods towards the camera. “Together!” Swift announces. “We are the Cutie Mark Crusaders!” “Shut up.” Rivet chuckles, swinging his pack over his shoulder. “Okay, so we definitely aren’t.” Swift turns the camera back on himself. “But we are going to do some pretty cool stuff.” “Don’t just hint at it, tell them!” Clyde calls. Swift looks up from the lens, “Alright!” He turns back to the camera. “So, we’re headed off to this old place down south of here. Supposedly, it’s like the place to be if you’re dead. There are ghost stories and legends out both ends of this place.” “Tell ‘em the spookiest bit!” Rivet calls, mock excitement mixed with real excitement in his voice. “Which part?” Swift turns the camera towards Rivet, who crosses his eyes and uses a hoof to make a ring around one ear. “Oh! Right.” Swift comes back into view, a serious expression on his face, his voice becoming low and serious. “This place… Was once… A loony bin.” “Sanitorium is more like it.” Rivet mutters. “It also sounds cooler.” Clyde steps up behind Swift on the frame. Rivet can be heard laughing. “You had one job!” [Timestamp: November 3, 12:52 AM] The shaking camera is turned back towards the face of Swift Justice, who caringly wipes off the lens and turns the machine towards a window. After a second of blurriness and bright light, the camera equalises and gentle greenery fills the frame. The camera zooms in and out, becoming blurry every time the tree line is closer or farther. The sound of chugging and a train whistle can be faintly heard. Occasionally, a bump jostles the camera, causing it to go out of focus and slowly come back in. “Are you having fun?” Clyde’s voice emanates from behind the camera. “How could I not be?” Swift replies, turning the camera on his friend. The inside of a train car comes into view. Both Clyde and the camera are on one bench, where Rivet is sitting on the other, reading a book. Clyde looks into the lens of the camera and then back up, most likely to Swift. “So, you want to explain why we’re here?” Swift asks from behind the camera. “Sure, why not.” Clyde shrugs. “Well, we heard there was a place down a ways from Ponyville where a lot of ponies think there are ghosts. Pretty simple story, right? This place is an old Sanitarium, a mental hospital, where they kept some of the worst cases. Like the really dangerous ones. History’s not my thing, but Rivet did the research. Anyway, we’re going there because Swift over here thought we should check this place out. It sounded like fun to me, so I volunteered to come along.” “Do you think there really are ghosts there?” A serious tone rests on Swifts voice. “Probably not.” Clyde shakes his head, causing his mane to flop over to one side. Fixing his mane, he continues. “But you never know.” The camera turns swiftly, bringing Rivet into view. “How about some history, Rivet?” Rivet looks up from his book, first at Swift, then at Clyde, then at the lens. “Sure. Why not.” Closing the book, Rivet grins slightly as he stares intently into the camera. “Well, years and years ago, before most of us were even born, there was this Mental Institution called Trotsburg’s Hospital For The Mentally Disturbed. It was maximum security, and most of the patients were kept separated for their own safety. Because of somepony’s stupid idea, some of the staff had to live on site, in case of emergencies. These were known as “Night Watch Staff”. Some of them thought they made a big difference, and liked their jobs. Most, though, hated their job, and especially hated treating the patients.” Rivet’s head shoots up as the train whistle blasts loudly. Turning back to the camera, he adds, “Looks like we’re at our stop.” [Timestamp: November 3, 1:23 PM] “-Off before you start filming!” “I’ve got it.” The voice of Swift soothes in the blackness before it is replaced with dazzling light. “There, happy?” The camera focuses as it is observed that the group is now in a small town. All of the buildings are slightly weathered, and there is a rustic tone about everything. Trees accent the skyline of the town as the camera is focused dead ahead of the group. “We only have so much film.” Rivet notes from the left side of the camera. “Shouldn’t we be saving it?” “It’s all good.” Swift turns the camera on it’s side to check the film. “I have a lot of tapes. I stocked up before we left.” The camera continues to bob up and down in time with the strides of Swift. The group nears the edge of town, as farmlands fill the view, and houses become smaller. “Hey. Look.” The camera turns to Clyde, who is pointing to a small wagon on the edge of a farm filled with various fruits, just down the road from them. There is a sign with prices on it, and a bucket for payment nailed onto the wooden trailer. Next to the wagon is an earth pony mare with a wide brimmed hat on her head. She wipes sweat from her brow as she waves over to the camera from the other side of the wagon. “I could use a snack about now. How ‘bout you guys?” “Eh, why not,” Rivet nods, following Clyde towards the stand. “Sure,” Swift agrees from behind the camera. The mare smiles when they come closer. “Howdy.” “Hi there.” Rivet replies, stepping over to the fence. “How are you?” “Ah’m good.” She nods, tipping her hat to the strangers. “I can tell y’all aren’t from around here. What brings you to town?” “We’re here to visit Trotsburg’s.” Rivet smiles, casually leaning against the wagon. As he is talking, Clyde is picking out a few good apples and pears. He rummages in his bag for his wallet and bits. The mare’s face become very serious. “Trostburg’s, huh?” Pulling her front hooves off of the cart and stepping back. “What do y’all wanna go there for?” Clyde finally fishes out the bits and drops the min the bucket, warranting a hat tip from the mare. “We heard about the legends, and we wanted to know if they were true.” Swift calls over from behind the camera. “Do you know anything about it?” “Most folks ‘round here would rather forget about it.” The mare states, shaking her head. “It’s not a nice place. Now I understand that you’re interested, but I think it would be best if you just let it be. I’ve heard all of the reasons for ponies going over there. You’re interested in history, want to have a cool vacation, some silly dare, fine. But this ain’t no playground. In my opinion, it’s like taking a trip to a graveyard. You can go, but don’t treat it like a fun park.” She looks around, most likely making eye contact with each of the group. An awkward silence follows her words. “Well…” Rivet nods slowly, coughs, and starts taking cautious steps in the direction they had been heading before. “Thanks for your concern, we’ll be safe and respectful.” “Good.” The mare spits on the ground. The road comes back into view as the cadence of walking shakes the camera as before. Without saying another word, the group moves down the road, hoofsteps on the dirty road are all that can be heard on the film. The voice of the mare echoes into the microphone. “Hey!” Turning the camera quickly, the machine is aimed back at the country mare behind the fence. She continues when she’s sure they are all listening. “Don’t sleep over in Trotsburg’s. Again, it is not a park. Nopony’s been in there for years, who knows what kind of wild animals have moved in.” “We’ll keep that in mind!” Clyde calls back over to her. “Thank you!” “Someone’s been into the hard cider,” Swift mutters into the microphone. Rivet chuckles lightly as they turn back to the road. Swift’s face fills the view as he stares into the lens, upside down as he fiddles for the stop button. “But it does make some good footage for-” [Timestamp: November 3, 4:12 PM] It is lightly raining through the trees that canvas the area. Greenery is abundant, and the light of the sun is hidden by a thin layer of clouds, and the brush that surrounds the three ponies. Rivet is seen laughing as he kicks a puddle at Clyde, and Swift chuckles behind the camera. Clyde pushes Rivet, who trips over a fallen log and rolls into a bigger puddle. “How’s that feel?” Clyde laughs as Rivet drags himself out of the water. Rivet coughs and sputters, “I’ve had worse.” Spitting out water, Rivet reaches a hoof. Clyde takes Rivet’s hoof in his and pulls him up. The camera rushes towards the both of them as Swift is heard chuckling to himself. One of Swift’s hooves comes into view as he pushes Clyde down into the puddle, dropping Rivet back in as well. At this, Swift erupts into all out laughter, pointing the camera directly at the two ponies in the puddle. They attempt to roll onto their hooves, water causing Clyde’s mane to wash into his face, and Rivet to continually slip, sending more water onto Clyde. All the while, Swift is laughing as the camera zooms in and out of the silly scene to catch the reactions of the soaked ponies. [Timestamp: November 3, 4:14 PM] Clyde fills the view, his mane dripping down the side of his face, as he looks into the lens with a mixture of joy and hate on his face. “Well, now that we’re good and wet, we might as well make camp for the night.” He hisses at the camera. Swift snickers from behind the lens. “You look… Hilarious.” Clyde shakes his head, causing his mane to spray water everywhere. “I think you mean ‘sexy’. Sexy is more the word.” “Oh!” Rivet runs in front of the camera. “Do you hear that, ladies? Clyde is available!” Swift passes the camera to Rivet, who takes it close to Clyde’s face. “Am not!” Clyde blurts out, smiling slightly. “Who’s the lady, then?” Swift calls from a distance. Clyde's mouth twitches slightly, a hint of giddiness in his voice. “None of your business.” Swift and Rivet begin in unison, “Ooh!” Then break out into laughter. “Shut up!” Clyde shakes his head, laughing at the immaturity of his friends. He swipes at the camera, his hoof covering up the lens. [Timestamp: November 3, 5:39 PM] Inside of a green tent, the camera is sat on the ground, Rivet, Swift and Clyde are laying out sleeping bags. Rivet is the first to get his laid out and picks up the camera, pointing it at the other two. Soon after, Swift and Clyde get their bags rolled out and lie down on them. “It’s cool, right?” Swift nods towards the lens. “Yeah.” Rivet nods with the camera. “Lemme see it?” Swift motions for Rivet to give him the camera. After a series of shaking and tapping, Rivet is back in view, and Swift continues. “So, since we’re gonna be here all evening, you wanna continue wowing the world with your knowledge of the crazy house?” “Sure.” Rivet lies down on the bag and turns to the camera. “Where was I?” “Night Watch hates patients.” Clyde answers from the other side of the tent. “Right!” Rivet nods, and pauses to think before continuing. “Well, there were supposedly these ‘doctors’ decided to get their sick kicks by experimenting on patients. They would claim legitimate reasons for doing what they did,” Rivet shakes his head, “but they weren’t.” “What would they do?” Swift asks. “Some pretty nasty stuff, from what I read.” Rivet sighs. “Icepick Lobotomies, Electric Shock Therapy, anything they could do to these ponies, they did.” “That is messed.” Clyde groans from the other side of the tent. “Icepick Lobotomies?” Swift asks. Rivet says nothing, but he pulls a stick off of the floor and imitates jamming it into his eye and twisting. “Oh, gross!” Swift coughs. Shrugging, Rivet replies, “Hey, I never said it was a nice place.” “Here,” The voice of Swift states, the camera changes hooves as Swift hands it off to Rivet. The camera turns to show Clyde lounging on his sleeping bag, and Swift is excitedly staring into the lens of the camera. “Now’s where my reading comes in handy.” Swift smiles at the camera, becoming very serious the next second. His voice drops low, and he talks in a serious tone. “I’ve heard that when the place was still open, there was this nurse on the Night Watch. She really hated the patients, and took every chance she could get to do a lot of nasty things to them. Her favourite form of torture was Electric Shock Therapy. Every night, she would pick a patient at random, she would strap them down, and turn the volts and amps up as high as she could, without killing them, that is. When she had had enough, she would turn it off, unhook them, and take them back to their room on a gurney. Patients reported, after the place was closed down, that she would go back and forth from the labs all night, taking patients with her. Legend has it that after the place was closed down, she locked herself in the hospital, where she hooked herself up to the EST machine and cranked it up. Since then, whenever anyone has gone over there for the night, they still see her roaming the halls, electrocuting patients.” “Now that’s creepy.” Clyde rolls to face the camera. “Want to know what I heard? There was once this old mare living in the woods, and she lost one of her rusty horseshoes. So every night, she goes through the woods in search of her rusty horseshoe.” “That’s a foal story!” Swift reaches over and shoves Clyde’s arm out from under him, dropping him to the ground, Clyde laughing at him. “And not even creepy.” “Where did you read that?” Rivet asks from behind the camera. Swift replies nonchalantly. “Equestria’s Best Ghost Stories.” “Figures.” Rivet states. “What?” Swift drags out the word in a whiny fashion. Rivet shakes his head, making the camera shake. “Nothing.” “What?” Swift repeats, smirking and using the same whiny voice. [Timestamp: November 3, 11:12 PM] Swift’s face takes up most of the shot, aiming the camera at himself. The shot is tinted a dark greenish colour. “Alright, well, that’s it for the first day, I’ll see you guys bright and early tomorrow morning. Trotsburg’s shouldn’t be too far away now, if Rivet is reading the map right.” “Put the camera down and go to sleep.” Clyde calls over. “If you’re tired in the morning, I don’t want to hear it, bro.” November 4[Timestamp: November 4, 6:16 AM] “Is it on?” “I think so. I don’t see anything.” “Take the cap off, moron.” “Oh. There it is.” The lens adjusts to the image of the forest in the early morning. The sun has not even begun to peek through the trees, but there is enough ambient light to make night vision useless. The camera turns to the outside of the green tent, with Clyde standing just ahead of the camera. “Okay.” Clyde whispers. “So, you’ve seen how Swift gets all serious when he talks about ghosts. Well, I think he really believes those things. And that ‘foal story’ I told last night, was one that really used to get him when we were younger. I was better at telling it then.” He looks over at the tent, then back to the camera, smile growing on his face. “So, we’re gonna see just how much he believes those stories.” “This is gonna be great.” Rivet snickers behind the camera. “But are you sure it’s a good idea?” “If you get cold hooves, just remember,” Clyde states quietly, “He pushed us into that puddle yesterday without a second thought. ‘Kay?” Rivet holds back his laughter. “Yup. He deserves it.” The two of them move to opposite sides of the tent and stand perfectly still. Rivet clears his throat and moves his face close to the wall of the tent, presumably where Swift’s head would be if he was asleep. Rivet almost sounds like he’s about to throw up a hairball for a moment, but begins to form words. “Where’s mah rusty horseshoe…” Clyde snickers. Rivet does the same noise again, “Where’s mah rusty horseshoe…” A rustling sound comes from the tent. The voice of Swift worriedly asks, “What?” Rivet calls out loudly. “DO YOU HAVE MAH RUSTY HORSESHOE?” before he and Clyde begin ramming into the tent, shaking it from side to side, causing Swift to let out a high pitched squeal. At that sound, the other two burst out laughing. Pushing his way out of the tent, Swift scrambles to his hooves. “You guys are assholes!” “And you scream like a filly!” Clyde manages through laughing fits. “Turn that thing off!” Swift shouts, pointing at the camera. “Don’t act like it’s not hilarious!” Rivet calls back. Swift goes straight faced, as if he’s going to punch one or both of them. Then he cracks a smile and shakes his head, pointing back at the camera. “Shut it o-” [Timestamp: November 4, 10:32 AM] A new part of the forest comes into view as the camera is moving down a less beaten path. Tall grass and weeds cover the ground, and trees canvas the area, allowing little light through. “Alright.” The Voice of Swift comes into the microphone. “So, camp’s been cleaned up, we’ve had a good canned breakfast, and we’re back on the road to Trotsburg’s.” “How much longer is it?” Clyde groans at Rivet. “If I’m reading the map right,” Rivet pauses, “We should be there by night fall.” “Awesome!” Swift cheers into the camera. “We’ll be there at witching hour!” Rivet sighs. “Thanks for reminding me.” “I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts and stuff.” Swift turns the camera to Rivet, who is adjusting the pack on his back. “I don’t.” Rivet shakes his head dismissively. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t get spooked.” “You do!” Clyde laughs. “You do so believe in ghosts!” “It’s not that I do or don’t.” Rivet stops walking. “It’s that I’m not sure, you know? And that’s the weirdest part.” The group goes silent for a moment before the camera turns to Clyde, who begins laughing at Rivet. “Oh, come on!” Clyde continues laughing at Rivet. “Scared of ghosts? You’re just a little B-” [Timestamp: November 4, 3:14 PM] “Are we there yet?” “No.” [Timestamp: November 4, 3:23 PM] “Now?” “NO!” [Timestamp: November 4, 3:29 PM] “Rivet…” “Do you see it? I don’t! Stop asking!” [Timestamp: November 4, 5:22 PM] The forest is slightly tinted orange by the afternoon sun. There is still a mixture of clouds and trees dampening the light further. The camera is set on the ground, Rivet and Clyde are visible on screen, but only Swift’s hoof comes into the shot. “Okay, so do you want to share any more of those weird stories?” Clyde chuckles at Swift. Swift’s voice booms from above the camera. “Sure.” He adjusts his position. “Okay… There is this one story I heard. There was a mare who worked in the ward as a nurse. Her job was to take bodies to the morgue after incidents. Now, when she was younger, there was an accident with her and her sister. She had just made a dress for her sister, and her sister was wearing it during the accident. "After the accident, she was found next to the body whimpering “Ruined… Ruined” over and over again. No one is really sure why she took the job at the Institute, but when she got there, some weird stuff started happening. Clothes and blankets began disappearing from the morgue. These aren’t like good clothes, either. These are body coverings, bloody linens, disgusting. The legend goes that she was collecting them to remake the dress her sister was in during the accident, most think that that’s what she meant when she whimpered “ruined”. She was shallowly talking about the dress. Ponies were just objects to her. What mattered to her was her own creations. "I think the accident just drove her insane. "Either way, when the place closed down, some say she hid inside and continued to work away at the dress in the morgue, using whatever she could. Anything. And I mean anything. Supposedly, if you go in there, you can still hear her crying and repeating “Ruined… Ruined”. Others, though, have reported her… Singing. Just a work song. Some say it sounds like a siren song. Her voice drawing them in to the depths so she can kill them.” “That’s stupid.” Clyde shakes his head. “I thought he did a pretty good job of telling it.” Rivet defends. “Yeah, what’s wrong with it?” Swift asks. “Oh, I get it.” Rivet sighs. Clyde coughs and shifts uneasily. “What?” Swift asks. Rivet nods, “You’re with that seamstress chick back home, aren’t you?” Clyde changes a frustrated expression, keeping his head down. Rivet smirks, “It is!” “You sly dog!” Swift laughs. Nudging Clyde’s arm, Rivet adds, “What was her name again?” “Shut up.” Mutters Clyde. “Weird name for a mare.” Rivet coughs. Swift chuckles, “Maybe it’s a stallion.” He picks up the camera and points it directly at Clyde. “Buck off!” Clyde hisses. “I’ll kick both of your a-” “Whoa!” Shouts Swift, “You can’t say that on television.” “Buck that!” Clyde rages, throwing up his hooves. “I can say whatever the-” [Timestamp: November 4, 8:42 PM] The forest is mostly dark, the light of the sun is hardly visible now. The moon is likely high in the sky, as a bluish glow envelopes the area. The trees are thinning, and the moon freely shines down. A light fog or dust creates an eerie glow. Rivet and Clyde are just ahead of the camera, but, as the camera is mostly aimed at the ground, their hooves are the only visible part. “I think we made it.” Swift whispers into the microphone, almost reverently. At his words, the camera turns upward, revealing a tall stone building. The windows of the building are mostly shattered, the shadows within seem to almost ooze out of the building, like wounds. Plants like ivy have wound their way up the walls, creeping into the windows as if to pull it under the surface of the earth. Almost as if the very earth itself was trying to eradicate this place from it's face. Rivet takes a deep breath, “Gentlemen… Welcome to Trotsburg’s.” An eerie silence falls long on the group. “Well…” Clyde swallows. “What are we waiting for? It’s just an old building.” None of them move. “Come on.” Clyde begins walking over to the massive building. “Let’s go.” “Why don’t we just set up camp out here?” Swift asks, standing still. “It’s already dark.” Clyde notes. “And I’m tired. It would be easier to sleep inside.” “We said we wouldn’t.” Rivet reminds Clyde. Stopping, Clyde peers over to Swift. “Do you always keep promises to strangers?” Without another word, Rivet follows Clyde, but Swift stands his ground. After a moment, he too follows Clyde. Swift keeps the camera trained on the asylum, slowly but surely making his way into the cold, dark abyss. The image on the camera fades to black as they go into the building. “Well, at least I get to test this out.” Swift sighs. The sound of a button being clicked on the side of the camera. Suddenly, the image returns, only tinted a very light green colour, the room bathed in an odd glow. The image is sideways. “Try what out?” Rivet turns back to Swift. Swift turns the camera right side up. “Night vision.” “How does that work?” Clyde looks over, the infrared light reflecting off of his eyes. “I dunno.” Swift shrugs. “But it looks cool.” [Timestamp: November 4, 10:23 PM] The picture is still in the night vision style, but now it is in the middle of a room, Clyde laying on his sleeping bag, Rivet sitting quietly upon his, and Swift rolling his out. Clyde is closest to the camera, and Swift is furthest. “Any more stories you wanna share before we hit the sack?” Clyde calls over to Swift. “You know what?” Swift looks around, his ears not as perky as they have been before. “I think I’ll skip it for tonight. I’m wiped, and a little nervous about being in here.” “Afraid of ghosts?” Clyde makes and ‘ooh’ing sound. Swift just looks over at Clyde, as if to say “shut up”. “Fine, fine!” Clyde shakes his head and slides into the sleeping bag. “I guess we’ll get to looking around in the morning, eh?” Rivet looks at the other two. When they nod, he himself slides into hid bag. “Can you shut off the camera?” Swift asks Clyde. “It’s the red button on the side.” “Yeah.” Clyde rolls over to the camera and fiddles with it for a moment. November 5[Timestamp: November 5, 2:43 AM] “What the hell, man?!” Clyde’s voice shouts, the screen black. Silence. “Seriously!” Clyde shouts again. “What the hell?!” Rivet groans. “What is it?” “Don’t act stupid, Rivet!” Clyde rustles the camera, probably searching for the night vision button. “I know you like your pranks, but seriously, grow up!” “What are you talking about?” Rivet yawns, his voice groggy. Swift coughs, yawing after. “What’s the matter?” “The stupid bucker over there licked my face!” Clyde shouts, still searching for the button. “It’s like, two in the bucking morning!” “I was asleep until you started screaming like a filly!” Rivet groans loudly. Swift cuts in, “Why would he lick your face?” “I don’t know!” Clyde finally gets the button and the screen is illuminated with the same image as the night before. Rivet and Swift are lying tiredly in their sleeping bags, while Clyde is panting madly. “He’s just a weird son of a-” “Stop!” Rivet shouts. “I didn’t lick you! Get over it. You were probably just dreaming.” “Then why is my face wet?” Clyde touches his face. “Ever hear of drooling?” Rivet growls. “I assume you do it a lot.” “It’s too early for this!” Swift hushes them, “You can kill each other later, okay?” “Fine.” Rivet grumbles and rolls over, turning away from the camera. “As long as he doesn’t lick me again.” Clyde hisses, laying back down. Swift points at the camera, “Why is the camera on?” “I was hoping it would catch whoever licked me.” Clyde sighs, “So I’ll check it later and find out.” [Timestamp: November 5, 8:54 AM] The run-down hall of a hospital is shown on screen. The hall is illuminated by the morning sun peering through the windows and doors lining the hallway. Tiles are chipped and shattered on both the floor and the ceiling, and the walls are scratched and cracked. Swift is no doubt behind the camera, with Rivet and Clyde out ahead of the lens. The camera turns to one of the rooms to the right, and the words ‘Psyche Ward B: 23 2nd Floor’ are scrolled on the door, just below the window. Through the window, a dingy room with only a bed visible can be seen as the camera zooms in. “This place is so weird.” Clyde whispers, almost to himself. “Where do you want to go?” Swift asks. Rivet looks towards the camera. “Well, I guess most of these rooms are the same around here… Except…” He cocks his head and walks towards a room he is staring at. “Except this one…” Swift follows Rivet into the room. “Holy…” Swift mutters. The room resembles a young filly’s or foal’s room. The walls were painted pink, but they have long since faded with time. A small bed with pink sheets lies in the corner, with a few stuffed animals set around it. In the corner sits a small chest with a lock and key on it The room would have been cute, had it not been in an asylum. “This is just…” Clyde stands in the doorway, taking a deep breath. “Sorry.” He steps out of the room. “Let’s just keep going,” Rivet says, walking past Swift. “Sure,” Swift agrees, following closely after Rivet. [Timestamp: November 5, 11:23 AM] “Give me a hoof with this door,” Rivet calls back to Clyde. The group is in a small hallway with hardly any light. There is enough spilling down from a stairwell behind them to not need the night vision, but it can be assumed that they are now in the basement level of the hospital. Tiles on the floor and ceiling are cracked and scratched as they had been on the second floor. A small metal table sat off to one side of the hall, against the off-white wall. Rivet can be seen struggling to push open a large metal door. Years of being in a cold, dark and potentially damp environment wreaked havoc on the door, rusting it slightly, and seizing it in place. Clyde scuttles over to the door and begins assisting his friend with the difficult task. With a few grunts and shoves, the door squeels like nails on a chalkboard, causing everypony to wince as the door scrapes along the floor, opening a whole new world of adventure. “Loud enough?” Swift asks from behind the camera. “Not nearly,” Rivet hisses. The three ponies travel down the hall and into the new area, Clyde reaching up instinctively and flipping a light switch. Of course, the lights do not turn on, but the hallway is slightly lit by the light coming through the small windows in the doors. Swift moves the camera to a door to investigate where the light is coming from, and aims it through a door. There are small window wells near where the walls meet the ceiling of the room, allowing the mid-day sun to shine in. “Who do you think they kept down here?” Swift asks, zooming in and out of the room, causing the focus to blur for a moment. “Probably the sane ones,” Rivet states sarcastically, “Just more of the same from upstairs.” “What’s that down there?” Clyde looks back at Rivet. “Can you make out the sign from here?” “Wait,” Swift states, “I got this.” He hits the zoom button on the camera and turns to the door at the far end of the hallway. A small brass door plaque is bolted to the door just under the window. After a moment of blurriness, the camera stabilizes to show the words “Dr. Chlorohoof, Chief of Medicine” on the plaque. “It says Doctor Chlorohoof, Chief of Medicine,” Swift reads aloud. “I guess that’s his office down there.” “Maybe it has old patient files,” Rivet notes excitedly, walking towards the office. “We could learn some of the history, maybe connect it to some of those myths and legends.” “We won’t know unless we give it a look,” Clyde shrugs, following after Rivet. Swift hurries behind them. “I’m in.” Unlike the previous door, this one opens with ease as the group quietly slips into the office. The office itself is rather neatly arranged, a large oak desk on the opposite wall, a comfortable chair behind it, and old diplomas and certificates on the walls behind. The floor, however, is littered with boxes filled with papers and files. To the right of the desk is a locked filing cabinet, with a few items that would have had meaning to whomsoever had resided within the office. “Jackpot.” Rivet whispers, surveying all of the files on the ground. “Why would they just be left here?” Swift asks, pointing the camera down at the piles of files. “I guess we’ll just have to find out.” Rivet replies, sitting down at the desk and opening a drawer. “You sure you should be doing that?” Clyde asks uneasily. Rivet closes the drawer, “If we want to know what happened here, we have to read.” “I guess.” Clyde nods slightly. “But isn’t there confidentiality?” “It’s not our fault they were left here. They have to have been left here for a reason,” Rivet frowns. “I don’t want to sound rude or heartless, but everyone who was here would be dead by now, so these are historic records. Besides, this is an investigation. We won’t release names or anything, so we should be fine.” “Are you sure?” “I read into the laws concerning historic documents before we came,” Rivet explains. “So long as the concerned ponies are deceased, and names are not released without the consent of the surviving family, should one exist, anything we do aside from destroying them is completely fine.” He pulls the drawer back open. “Hello.” He states, reaching into the drawer and pulling out a ring of keys. “They’re even labeled!” “What are they for?” Swift asks. “I assume they’re for the patient’s rooms.” Rivet looks the keys over. “Except…” He tugs at one that is longer than the rest. “This one… It’s tag says “Records”, but aren’t these…” Rivet reached down into a box and pulls up a file. “This is just a visitor log.” He looks at Clyde, “What’s in that one?” Clyde pulls up a file from the box closest to him, “Inventory.” Swift turns the camera towards a box nearest to him and pulls out a file. “Time sheets for the employees.” “Drat!” Rivet drops the file on the desk. “We have to find that records’ room.” He pulls open the main drawer and peeks inside. “Hey, what’s this?” Reaching in, Rivet pauses before pulling out an old, beat up, leather bound book. “It’s a journal… Hey, it’s the Doc’s journal!” “That’s not something you just leave lying around.” Clyde points out. “I’ll look into it later.” Rivet notes, looking over the old book and sliding it into his saddle bag. “That’s something, alright.” [Timestamp: November 5, 2:48 PM] The camera is turned on and the screen is filled with Swift’s face. “So, it’s been about three or four hours, and we haven’t had any luck finding the records’ room. We’ve decided to stop for lunch.” “Hey, I have an idea.” The camera turns to Clyde who is munching on a small piece of fruit. “Why doesn’t Rivet give us an introduction into that book he picked up in the office?” “Sure.” Rivet pulls open his saddle bag and takes out the leather bound book. Flipping to the first page, he clears his throat and begins, “Property of Doctor Chlorohoof, Medical Doctor, Head Physician of Trotsburg’s Institute.” He looks up at the camera for a moment and turns the page. “Ahem… September 22, First Day at Trotsburg’s. Today, I completed my transfer to the Institution. As a welcoming gift, one of the nurses left me this journal, how kind of her. As this is a brand new institute, more than half of the staff are fresh out of medical school, and the rest have been doing this for years. I myself am a member of the latter group. Before this, I was just another doctor at a mental hospital, but now I am head of something entirely new. I am unsure of what challenges this new role will provide me with, but with a little help from the staff, I am sure we will be able to make this hospital great! Dr. Chlorohoof, MD” “Seems innocent enough to me.” Clyde notes as Rivet skims the page over with his eyes. “Yeah,” Swift nods, “It kind of takes the edge off of this place, knowing that there was a caring group of ponies here. How about another?” He asks excitedly. Rivet turns the page. “September 25. Today, the first patients were admitted to the institute. As this is a maximum security facility, I expected them to be difficult patients. However, they seem to have rather mild cases of their respective mental disorders. Perhaps this is a trial period for the hospital. The board must want to see whether or not we can handle mild cases before sending any of the difficult ones our way. Regardless, I hope we can make a good impression, and show the board that we can in fact handle these cases. Dr. Chlorohoof, MD.” The room goes silent. “Hey, are there any entries for today?” Clyde asks, finishing what he was eating and disposing of the core. “Let me check…” Rivet turns the pages a few times before stopping on a page. “Here!” “November 5. We received our first big case today. For her sake, I will leave her name out of this entry. She is a very quiet girl most of the time, but she has been diagnosed with a severe case of Schizophrenia. Her mind is like a switch; one moment, she is calm and quiet, the next, she is in a corner screaming and crying in her room. It truly is a heartbreaking scene. In light of her condition, and of those like her in this hospital, I have introduced a stronger night shift, moving some of the day shift workers to nights only, where their skills are most needed. Some of them see it as a great chance, others not so much. I have begun calling this shift ‘Night Watch’, because they are there to ensure that any and all outbreaks and outbursts are handled quickly and discretely. The head nurse was one of the angry ones. For some reason, she really does not like working here, but it is her field of choice. I can’t say I blame her for being unhappy, it is not a happy place here, especially at night. However, I do stay here myself at night, so I hope it will show them how necessary their work is. Dr. Chlorohoof, MD.” [Timestamp: November 5, 6:33 PM] Swift sighs. The camera shows a simple room. Concrete walls, a bed in one corner with a trunk at the foot of it, and a mirror on the wall are all that would have been in the room for years. But these are not what Swift is in awe of. “One of these things is not like the others.” Clyde states. In the middle of the room is a simple black bag. Rivets hooves are within the bag, searching through it’s contents. Already, he has pulled out a camera, and several tapes. Moments later, he pulls out a second camera, and then a third. When the bag seems empty, he turns it over, and looks up at the camera. “Jackpot.” He smiles. “Are there any names?” Swift asks. Rivet looks the cameras over, “No names, just tags; Camera 1, Camera 2, Camera 3.” “Why would someone just leave their equipment?” Swift lays his camera down on the ground to inspect the others. “Well, here’s one reason.” Clyde picks up a camera. “The lens on this one is smashed, like somepony took a hammer to it.” “This one’s just a little crack.” Rivet looks his camera over. “This one’s fine.” Swift flicks a button on the camera. “And the batteries are still good.” Clyde puts the camera back down, “What are they doing here?” Swift speaks up excitedly, “Maybe they were left here by another team! Another group of guys like us. We could find out what they discovered!” “Only one way to find out,” Rivet notes, “We’ll have to watch them.” “Good luck with that.” Clyde picks up a tape. “Let me see that.” Swift takes the tape from Clyde. “Let’s toss it into one of the cameras and see what happens.” He slides the tape into one of the cameras. “It’s just static.” Rivet notes, looking down at the camera. “Try the others.” Rivet and Swift go through the process of playing each of the tapes, each one coming out with static. “You can sort of make out a picture, but it’s so distorted.” Swift shakes his head sadly. Rivet looks over one of the tapes, “It’s almost like someone ran a magnet over it.” “Magnet?” Swift looks up nervously, but slightly excited. “Ghosts have been known to let off Electromagnetic fields!” “So have magnets.” Clyde groans. “Maybe these guys just wanted to cover their tracks. Maybe they threw a party here, and did something illegal. Wiping the tapes and busting the cameras might have been the only way to do it. Whatever the reason was, they sure did it in a hurry.” “What makes you so sure?” “Only two of the cameras were whacked, the other one is fine. And they just left it here. Why not try to throw it in a river, or at least in the trash.” “They also left their sleeping bags.” Rivet mentions. “Where!?” Swift asks excitedly, “I didn’t see them.” “Room on the left, I saw in the window while we were walking by. I thought it was just cloth or bedding left over, but I think they were sleeping bags.” Swift runs to his camera and takes it out into the hall. The image is blurry, as Swift is moving in quick motions. He quickly finds the room Rivet was talking about, and opens the door. Sure enough, there are four sleeping bags laid out on the floor. All of them were hastily exited, or just left after the ponies had woken up. Surprisingly, that was all that was in the room. Aside from the usual things in the room, the four sleeping bags were the only thing different about this room. “Spooky…” Swift whispers. “Do you think we could use these?” Clyde calls over from the other room. “I can’t see why not!” Swift calls back. “It’s not like they need or want them anymore. I’ll get you some tapes in a moment.” [Camera 1] “Is it working?” The voice of Clyde asks from behind the camera. The scene is back in the room where they found the bag, facing the door. Swift is standing in front of it. “The light is on.” Swift nods. “Look at the screen, does it say REC?” “Yes.” “Then it’s working.” [Camera 3] “Whoa!” Rivet’s voice comes from behind the camera. The shot is another angle of the room, with Clyde and Swift in the frame. A large crack reaches across the screen from the bottom left to a quarter of the way up the right side. “It works, but the crack is annoying!” “It works, though?” Clyde asks. “Yeah. Just fine.” “Then you’ll be… Camera 3?” “Yeah. Camera 3.” [Timestamp: November 5, 10:34 PM] “So, it’s a little late, but we just want to get some more work done before we turn in.” Swift looks into the lens, the room barely lit by the light of the distant sun. “Rivet and Clyde are going out to try to find the records’ room one more time. I’m more interested in the foal’s room. I want to see what I can find.” Swift turns the camera around to show the foal’s room, eerily bathed in green light. No light comes through the window on the other side of the room. It’s a small window, but close enough to the ground to provide scenery during the day to whoever would occupy the room. The childlike atmosphere is more sinister and horrible than it should be. Swift moves over to the chest in the corner of the room. A key sits in the lock on the front of it. Silently, Swift lays his camera on the floor and sits down in front of the box. He turns the keys, creating a small click. Pushing the box open, Swift looks down into the little chest. “Oh my Celestia.” Reaching in, Swift pulls out a small stack of papers. He grabs the camera and turns it to the page he is holding. The paper has a hoof-painting on it. The picture seems to be of a pink mare with a black circle above. A very clear frown is on the face of the mare. After holding on the picture for a moment, Swift takes it off of the top and places it on the floor to reveal the next one. This one is the same pink, frowning mare, but this time she is next to a big tree. Under the tree is a small blue blob of paint. “What are these?” Swift mutters to himself. “Whose are these?” [Camera 1] “Any luck in there?” Clyde asks from behind the camera. On screen is Doctor Chlorohoof’s office, with Rivet sitting behind the desk. Rivet is digging through the drawers. “No maps in here,” Rivet sighs, shaking his head. “We’re still no closer to finding the records’ room.” “Maybe there’s something in the journal.” “Maybe…” Rivet reaches into his bag and pulls out the journal. Quickly leafing through it, a small piece of paper drops out of it. “Hello…” He reaches down and picks the page back up. Unfolding it twice, he looks down and smiles. “Clyde. You’re a genius.” “I know I am.” “I know exactly where we need to go now.” “Where?” “Down the hall from here. The door at the bottom of the stairwell leads to another stairwell. Remember? We thought it was a broom closet. It leads to another floor. Another basement.” “What’s all down there?” Rivet takes a moment to look over the map again, his face dropping to a slight frown. “Other than records… Nothing good.” “What do you mean?” “It’s the ‘therapy’ rooms. Where they did the Lobotomies, Electric Shocks, stuff like that… The Morgue...” “Buck me… What are we waiting for? Let’s go.” “Aren’t you scared?” Rivet asks, a smirk crossing his face, feigning courage. “There’s nopony here, what’s to be scared of?” “Yeah… Yeah! Let’s go!” The two of them exit the office and begin the walk back to the other end of the hallway. When they arrive, the door is locked. Rivet fishes out the keys from his saddlebag and opens the door quickly. “Cool.” Rivet smirks. The two enter the stairwell and begin the slow descent into the darkness below. Only the sound of light breathing and hooves on metal stairs can be heard for the descent. When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Rivet works to get the door open, allowing Clyde and the camera through. “Where’s the room?” Clyde asks, turning the camera to each of the doors he passes. Each of them are solid metal doors, with no port hole. Only room numbers and locks exist on the doors, as well as several scrapes and scratches. Some of them look like hooves. “The number on here is…” Rivet looks back down at the map and gets his bearings. “B2-05” “There!” Clyde points a hoof to a door just across and down the hall from them. It looks like all of the rest, but sure as day the code, B2-05, is on the door in white letters. “Ladies first.” Rivet laughs nervously. “Wuss.” “Hey, it’s dark.” “I thought you weren’t scared.” “I’m not.” “Then you go first.” “Why don’t you?” “Because I have the camera, it looks better if someone goes in before me.” Rivet groans, “Fine.” Using the keys and pushing open the door, Rivet steps into the room. The camera takes a moment to adjust to the new area. As it focuses in the dark, a room full of cabinets comes into view. The room itself is not very large, but the space is used wisely. Cabinets are arranged in rows, much like bookshelves, with space for a pony in between. All of the cabinets are closed. “I think we found it,” Clyde states. Rivet looks around in awe, “Where do we even start?” “Is there any information in the book?” “I’ll have to give it a look.” Rivet pulls open his saddlebag and tugs out the journal. [Timestamp: November 5, 11:52 PM] Back in the foal’s room, Swift is still looking through the pictures in the chest, night vision now turned on. The chest is nearly empty, only one picture now remains, the rest are set on the floor next to the old box. He pulls out the last hoof painting of the pink mare, but this time she is with a stallion and holding what looks like a foal. A sun is painted in the top corner, and the mare is smiling in this one. A chattering noise can be heard, almost like an animal chewing on bark. The sound rises like a wave, Swift’s head darting around quickly, attempting to find the source of the noise. It almost sounds like wind is mixing with the chattering, in a noise that can only be described as laugh-like. But like a wave the noise soon dies away, and Swift is left silently alone in the room. He is panting now, his chest making his heart beat apparent. “Just leaves and wind.” Swift assures himself. As his breaths begin to slow back to a normal rate, Swift returns his attention to the picture in his hooves. He places a hoof and tenderly touches the pink mare in the picture. Like a trigger, the chattering laughter noise refills the room, Swift begins to shake as he looks for the source again. For the rapid movement of his head, it can be determined that the noise is widespread and from multiple sources. “Rivet? Clyde?” Swift calls out as the chattering begins to die away. “Is that you guys?” Silence follows his words. “Guys!” More silence. “This isn’t funny guys, come on out.” The room is dead silent. “Okay! You had your laugh! I’m scared now, okay? Is that what you needed to hear?” He looks down at the picture again. “As if the pictures weren’t creepy enough…” Suddenly, a strong gust of air rips through the room for just a moment. Swift shakes silently as it dies down and his shaking increases when a voice seems to whisper on the wind. “Don’t you like them?” [Timestamp: November 6, 12:00 AM] November 6: 1 [Timestamp: November 6, 12:00 AM] “Don’t you like them?” “Who’s there?” Swift barely whispers, fear taking a firm grasp on his throat. The room is dead silent, as before. “Clyde! Rivet! Come on out!” Swift coughs. The room seems to hiss like a gas leak, the chattering noise of laughter filling it once again. “Don’t you like them?” “Who is…” Swift trails off, not finishing his thought. “I worked really hard on them.” Swift’s chest is heaving as he looks around to room, eyes wide. “Please tell me you like them.” Swift slams two shaking hooves on either side of his head in an effort to drown out the feminine voice drifting on the air and the accompanying chattering. “Please?” Swift clenches his teeth, his eyes filled with frenzy and fear. “Don’t you like them?” “SHUT UP!” Swift screams, slamming both hooves on the ground and knocking the stack of pictures away from himself. “JUST SHUT UP!” The laughter fades from the air as Swift’s lip trembles and he shakily gets to his hooves. Grabbing the camera, he charges out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Swift quickly makes his way back to the camp they set up in the waiting room of the hospital. As he descends the stairs he barely holds back, his breath trembling and whimpering. He nears the last step and trips, sending him to the ground below. The new fright and the old seem almost too much for him. Swift sits on the floor, the camera has fallen a few inches away from him, upside down. He puts a hoof over his eyes as he continues to shake. “What the hell was that?” [Camera 1] “Well, we found some cool stuff, and we’ll definitely come back down here in the morning.” Clyde states from behind the camera. “I wonder what Swift is up to.” Rivet looks back at the lens. “I hope he hasn’t done anything stupid.” “I’m sure he’s fine.” “Maybe he’s already asleep. We can ask him in the morning.” “It’s already morning… Boy, I’m tired…” “Let’s just get upstairs and get some rest.” “I’m good with that.” [Timestamp: November 6, 9:46 AM] “Hey, Swift,” Rivet begins, the camera sitting on the floor across from him, Swift behind it. “You haven’t eaten much this morning, you feeling alright?” They are back in their camp site, it is morning, and the sun is shining through the windows, lighting up the group having breakfast. “Hm?” Swift asks, “Yeah… I’m fine.” “You don’t sound it.” “I’m just tired is all.” “Did you find anything last night?” Clyde asks, sitting to one side of Rivet, enjoying something from a can. “Not really…” Swift slowly shakes his head, swallowing uneasily. “Some hoof paintings, that’s all.” “Hoof paintings?” Rivet cocks an eyebrow. “Like, a foal’s hoof painting?” “No.” Swift shakes his head again. “Like… I’m thinking a filly drew them. Like, one our age.” “That’s creepy.” Clyde notes. Swift just nods again. “How about you guys?” “We found the files room!” Rivet smiles. “It’s in the second basement, with all the spooky stuff. I’ll be honest… I was a little scared to go down there… But we found it!” “Anything interesting?” “Yeah, actually.” Clyde replies. “We found a couple of files related to the journal.” Rivet nods, “Yeah, we even found out about some of those legends you were talking about!” “Which ones?” “Remember the Dressmaker?” Rivet half grins, “We found a mare matching her description in the payroll, and in the journal.” “So, there’s a chance?” Swift asks, a little more excited. “We also found some really weird patient files.” Clyde notes, “Remember the one with all the shocks?” “Yeah…” Rivet sighs. “There was one file we found… It had at least ten EST treatments in one week.” “Ten?” Swift coughs, “That’s insane!” Rivet lifts a hoof to his chin, “The weirdest part is, they were all signed by the same doctor, or nurse, we couldn’t tell.” “Why not?” “It was written by a medical professional.” Clyde states seriously before cracking a smile and waving his hooves in the air. “It always looks like they’re flailing around while they write!” The group shares a chuckle, before Swift becomes serious. “Did you find anything out about the foal’s room?” “Not really, but it shouldn’t be too hard.” Rivet shrugs. “The room is organized by the patient’s room number, so if you can get me that, I can find the file.” “I still want to know about the Dressmaker Legend.” Clyde pipes in. “We can look that one up next!” Rivet smiles. “I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.” “There are no ghosts,” Rivet shakes his head, “This is just spooky history.” “I guess we’ll have to cover our bases ourselves if we want the most out of this trip.” Clyde states. “Maybe we should stick together.” Swift notes. Clyde laughs, “Were you scared last night?” Swift immediately hisses, “No!” “It’s fine if you were.” Rivet raises his hooves defensively. “I wasn’t scared.” Swift shakes his head. “But after it gets dark, your mind starts playing tricks on you.” “Well, if you really want us to stay together after it gets dark, we can.” Rivet nods, “Okay?” “Sure,” Swift agrees. “No harm,” Rivet smiles, “No foul.” [Timestamp: November 6, 1:42 PM] The camera focuses to show the similar second basement scene, now lighted by the midday sun drifting out from the stairwell. The intimidating metal doors look more eerie in the low light than in night vision. “The rooms probably don’t have lights that still in them.” Rivet notes, looking down at the map. “Or any windows this deep down.” “Good thing I came prepared.” Swift replies. The sound of rummaging in a saddlebag can be heard from behind the camera, and a flashlight is produced and given to each of the other two stallions. Clyde groans, “You couldn’t have given those to us last night?” “I didn’t think we’d be out as late as we were.” “Where do we go first?” Rivet asks, shining some light on the various doors. “Name something morbid.” “Electric shock seems to be a common theme here,” Clyde looks into the lens with fake enthusiasm, “Why not start there?” Rivet’s flashlight illuminates a door to their left. “There’s one.” “Why not.” Swift groans. “Hey!” Rivet looks back, “This was your idea for a trip, remember?” “Yeah, yeah…” Rivet pulls the keys out of his saddlebag and fights with the door for a moment before pushing the squealing door inwards. The room within is dark, just as suspected. Inside, there is a surgical table in the centre of the room, and a booth with a large glass window in the corner. A light dangles from the ceiling above the table, and a massive machine sits behind the table. In the booth, a series of switchboards can be seen. “That’s just creepy.” Rivet shakes his head. He directs the camera to take a closer look at the table. On the table, there are a number of leather straps for all four hooves, as well as the torso and head. A metal ring with several wires leading to it rests on the end of the table. Swift zooms in on the equipment, “Is that the…” Rivet nods, “Yeah…” “Why are we down here?” Clyde asks, looking around. “Hold on…” Rivet pauses, and then reaches back into his saddlebag. “I think there was something about…” He fishes out the journal and flips through it. “Yeah.” “What?” Swift asks. “May 12, I have been noticing a great deal of log entries being made into the therapy rooms in the basement. All of them during Night Watch shifts. I would enquire as to why these are happening so frequently, but I have more pressing matters at the moment. Besides, the number of violent outbursts at night has decreased substantially since the increased logs. I can’t say I like the method, Electric Shock Therapy has never been my favourite treatment, but I cannot argue with the results. However, since the beginning of these events, my patient has been extremely on edge about talking to me about her hallucinations. I may have to have a word with the Night staff about this. I am worried that EST may not be a feasible treatment for her, and I would hate to see anything happen to her. Doctor Chlorohoof, MD.” Swift mutters, “So…” “Someone was torturing patients.” Clyde decides. “So they wouldn’t cause trouble at night.” Rivet finished, “Or at least if they did, they would keep it to themselves this way.” “That’s awful.” Swift whispers. “It was science at the time.” Rivet cocks his head. “That’s what they thought worked.” Swift shakes his head. “Even if it worked…” Rivet lays a hoof on the table, running it up and down the metal. He looks sternly at it and rubs it again. “There are scratches on it.” “Why wouldn’t there be?” Clyde scowls. [Camera 1] Rivet is seen sitting at the desk in Doctor Chlorohoof’s office, three files sit opened on the desk before him. His snout is angled directly into the journal of Doctor Chlorohoof, and his eyes continually jump from the book to the files. He sits with his back in the chair, and his back legs crossed on the desk. “Here’s an interesting bit…” Rivet looks up at the camera sitting on the desk, giving it a firm vantage point for the scene. “November 30 My patient seems to be improving. Every day, I like to come into her room and ask her questions about her family, which she is always very happy to talk about. Sometimes I give her paint when I’m there, and ask her to draw what she looks forward to when she leaves the institute. Most times, she just draws herself alone, and very sad. But today, incredibly, she drew herself smiling, with a stallion and a colt of her own. Now, normally, we attempt to keep her from discussing or drawing foals, but I felt she deserved this one chance to express herself without scrutiny. Doctor Chlorohoof, MD.” “And then… Later…” Rivet turns the pages to find another entry. “The Head Nurse of Night Watch is continually logging my patient into the EST rooms for sessions. I understand she can have violent outbursts at night. But in my experience, it has only been when somepony or something has upset her. For instance, when one of my psychiatric staff was doing an interview, they mentioned that the foals she sees are all in her head. When he told her that, she practically clawed his eyes out. She acted as if he had tried to kill her child. When talking with her, one needs to be mindful of her mental state concerning the foals she sees. They are never to be dismissed. She will defend the foals she sees with her life, or yours. Doctor Chlorohoof, MD.” “So, obviously something happened to her. Something to do with a foal, or several, that pushed her mind past the breaking point.” Rivet notes. “I’ve been reading her file, and the file of the Nurse the doctor is speaking of, and I have yet to find a cause for the foals, or for the nurse to hate the patient. I’ll need to keep looking…” [Camera 3] The secondary basement of the hospital is dimly lit by the beam of a small flashlight. The hall still seems as dismal and monochrome as before, even though it is in colour instead of night vision. Looking around the hall, a voice comes from behind the camera. “B2-03…” Clyde notes to himself, again and again. “B2… 03…” Finally, the camera comes to a halt on a door with the stated indicator number. Clyde pushes the door open to show a concrete room, much like the rest. However, instead of a bed in the corner or therapy equipment, there are two steel autopsy tables and several locked cooler doors on the walls. “The morgue.” Clyde whispers, “Just like in the legend.” Clyde walks slowly over to the furthest cooler door. After hesitating for a moment, he turns the handle firmly and hauls back on the door, opening the cabinet and pulling the tray out with it. Clyde lets out a deep sigh as turns out to be empty, only a metal tray protruding from the wall. The camera is turned to peer into the dark hole in the wall before Clyde closes up the cabinet. “Okay…” Clyde turns the camera around to show the whole room. “So, you heard most of the story from Swift. Despite what he thinks, I do pay attention. That’s not the first time I’ve heard the story. I remember a part of the story-part he didn’t tell last time. The dressmaker made dresses out of dead patients’ clothes, but another legend stays she made them out of the patients themselves… And another says she locked herself in the morgue when the place closed down. Which could only mean that she’s still here.” Clyde pauses to look around the room, pausing on the cooler doors. “I mean, it also says she wanders the hall in search of more dead patients to finish her dress. But that’s garbage too.” Clyde lets the room go silent and fiddles with the camera. [November 6, 3:29 PM] Swift is sitting by the box in the foal’s room again. The light of the midday sun casting short shadows on the room. The camera is laid on the floor, showing Swift staring intently at the box. Without a word, he leans in closer to the box with a frown on his face. Taking a deep breath, Swift pushed open the lid and peered down at the hoof paintings from before. “Well…” Swift sighs, “Might as well get it over with.” He reaches down and hesitantly pulls up the painting on top. Looking around, he lets out a sigh of relief when no noises come into the room. “I must have been overtired last night.” Swift decides. “I was just hearing things.” He drops the pictures back into the box and breathes deeply. [Camera 3] Clyde stares intently into the lens of the camera. “Alright. I’m opening all of them up.” He turns the camera and lays it on the previously opened cabinet, giving it full view of the others. Standing cautiously over the next door, Clyde takes a deep breath before gripping it firmly and ripping the door open. Clyde sighs, “Empty.” Moving to the next door, he repeats the process, the entire room echoing with the squealing of rusted metal on metal as the crude door is pulled from the wall for the first time in decades. “Empty.” Again, he pulls another door open, now there is only one door that has not been opened. The one farthest from the door, and farthest from the camera. Clyde trots back to the camera to give it a better angle from one of the tables. Taking one final, deep breath, Clyde grips the handle and tears on the door, creating the same horrid shriek. However, this time, the door catches on something, causing Clyde to stumble and almost fall to the floor. Standing back up, Clyde composes himself before tugging again, this time, adding a disgusting cracking noise to the shriek as the door is freed from whatever held it in place before racing outwards. The sudden burst causes Clyde to fall, tripping into the table the camera is stationed on and knocking it to the floor with him. Clyde checks himself over for injury before standing back up with a cough. When he finally gets back up, the camera only shows his hooves, but it is seen that Clyde turns back to the now opened cabinet. “What in the…” He scrambles to pick up the camera, his hoofs shaking slightly, making it apparent something has caused his pulse to race. The camera loses focus, but a large, off-white mass is visible on the table protruding from the wall. Clyde’s heavy breaths are all that can be heard as the camera struggles back into focus, as if even it does not want to see what is on the table. The mass takes shape, the outline of an equine body is apparent, nearly bleached white. Its face is contorted into a sinister and maniacal smile, even in death. It is the skeleton of a unicorn. It is laid out like an anatomical diagram, yet the head is jostled, and the forelegs cross the chest. Eyes, skin and muscle have abandoned their host, only her bright, ivory bones and long hair remain. The horn of the unicorn is normally the most well kept part of the unicorn’s body. But on this one, the horn has been broken into pieces, apparently what had been jamming the door. Perhaps the most sinister thing about the body of the mare, not her smile, her perfect positioning, or her decaying body, but the cloth she grasps tightly in her lifeless hooves. Scraps sewn together with precision and care. A dress. November 6: 2 [Timestamp: November 6, 6:13 PM] “Any cool finds?” Rivet looks at the camera. He is seen sitting in the waiting room, munching away at a small snack with the journal held tightly to his side by his other hoof. “Other than those creepy pictures, I didn’t do a whole lot of looking. Have you seen Clyde?” “No. Haven’t you?” Rivet asks, cocking his head and taking another bite of his snack. “Last I checked,” he swallows, “He was headed down to the second basement with the map. He said something about the Dressmaker legend.” “Think he found something?” “I dunno.” “Did you?” “I found some history on this place. I crossed the files, the legends and the journal together and saw where they fit together.” “Any conclusions, professor?” Swift stresses sarcasm on the last word. “A lot of the facts from the legends are straight. I found a few that might match the Dressmaker, and I found the Night Watch Staff files.” “You have to show me those later.” “I will.” Rivet grins. Loud hoofsteps are heard coming down the hall, “Guys!” “Is that Clyde?” Swift asks, turning the camera to the hall. Clyde stops in the room, his face a mix of surprise and excitement. Rivet turns and faces him, “What is it?” “I found a body!” He states. “What?” Rivet jumps up. “Where?” [Timestamp: November 6, 6:20 PM] “Damn.” Swift mutters. The camera is focused on the pearly bones of the unicorn mare in the morgue. The body is the same as it was before when Clyde found it. Rivet has a quizzical look on his face as he reaches down to something on the floor. He holds a small white piece up to his face. “What is that?” The camera swings to focus and zoom in on the object in Rivet’s hand. “It’s…” Rivet takes a deep breath. “It’s part of the horn.” He gulps and places the bone piece next to the body and steps back. “Swift.” Clyde begins, “Do you think it’s the Dressmaker?” “I… I don’t know what to think. I wasn’t expecting to find a body.” “What do we do with it?” Clyde looks around. “We can’t just leave her here.” “Short of burying her ourselves, there’s not much to do.” Rivet walks around to the door. “Let’s put her back. I know it doesn’t seem fair, but she’s been here for years, and no one has come searching for her yet. I think it’s safe to assume it won’t hurt.” Swift agrees, “I guess…” Clyde and Rivet take the handle of the door and push it back towards the wall, the screaming metal moving slower than it came out. It is more than likely that the rollers seized from being in the same position for years. As the bones slowly sink back into the wall, the shrieking subsides and the room falls dead silent. “I guess the legends got something right.” Swift mutters, jostling the camera. [Timestamp: November 6, 9:01 PM] Darkness fills the screen. “Can we actually get to sleep tonight?” “What do you mean?” “Last night, after all the adventuring in the dark, I just couldn’t fall asleep last night.” “Me either.” “Same. Lets just play some cards or something and get some sleep. It’s been a weird day.” “Hold on. The camera’s not showing anything. Swift? What’s up with that?” “Lens cap?” “No, it’s off.” “It must just be too dark in here for it to pick up anything. Hit the little switch on the front of it. That’ll turn on the IR light.” “The other cameras just do it automatically.” “Well, this one isn’t that fancy.” The waiting room is bathed in green light as a faint click is heard. Rivet and Swift are seen sitting on their sleeping bags, looking tired from the day of hiking through the hospital. “Maybe we could try pitching the tent tonight?” Swift looks at the other two. “Why bother?” Clyde asks, shifting his position on his own sleeping bag, “We stayed in here last night, and nothing weird happened, right? I think we’re okay to stay inside.” “But what about that mare the other day?” Swift notes, “She said we shouldn’t sleep indoors. What if there are wild animals living in here?” “Look, Swift,” Rivet explains, “We’re in a room with doors on all sides. Nothing gets in or out of here without turning a knob or pushing a crash bar. Unless raccoons and rats have learned how to open doors with their little paws, I’d say we’re good.” He pauses to think. “Unless, that is, you’re scared to sleep in here after today.” “I’m not scared.” “I would completely understand it. A body in the basement is a bit of a turn-off for me too.” Rivet grisn weakly. “I’m fine.” Swift nods sternly. “I think we’re fine here. Besides, I think a night in the dark woods would be a little more dangerous than an uncomfortable night in the asylum.” Clyde agrees. Rivet nods, “True.” [Timestamp: November 6, 10:12 PM] “Triple Kings.” Rivet states as he drops three cards on the ground in between the three of them. A lantern is sitting next to Swift, lighting the room enough to make the Infrared light unnecessary, and giving the room a macabre glow. “Triple Aces.” Swift raises his eyebrows and drops the cards on top of Rivet’s. Clyde shakes his head, causing his mane to fall into his face. “Nothing. You’re an ass.” “No. You’re the Ass.” Rivet notes. “My play, then?” Swift looks around before sliding the cards off to the side. “One Three.” “I’ll burn it.” Rivet drops a card. “And I’ll drop a pair of tens.” “I’ll lay two jacks.” Clyde states. “Your mom…” Rivet coughs. “What was that?” Clyde stares daggers at Rivet. “Hmm?” Rivet looks up in the air, eyes wide. “Nothing.” “What the hell did you say?” Clyde lays his cards down. “I…” Rivet swallows. “I’m…” “What about my mother?” “Look.” Rivet calms his voice. “I completely forgot. I’m sorry. It’s a habit.” “Damn right you’re sorry.” Clyde eases back. “Maybe we should get some rest.” Swift gathers up the cards. “Yeah…” Rivet nods. Swift puts the cards away and blows out the candle. [Timestamp: November 6, 11:21 PM] The shot is of a hallway in the hospital, the tile floor reflects the IR light, looking like small stars twinkling on the floor. “I just couldn’t sleep.” Swift’s voice drifts from behind the camera. “So I’m going back to check on the room. Maybe I’ll hear it again.” [Timestamp: November 6, 11:28 PM] Swift places the camera on the floor, stuffing something under it to elevate it, giving it a full view of the room behind him while he sits at the box. “Maybe I just need to go through the box again.” Swift nods and opens the chest. He starts, page by page, removing pictures and looking them over. Taking a painstaking amount of time, he removes them one by one. What looks like a wet spot starts in the top left corner of the frame. “I was just hearing things.” It begins to grow. The pile of pictures is getting smaller by the second. It’s a quarter of the frame and still growing. Swift shakes his head to clear any tiredness away and accidentally knocks over the pictures he has already been through. He slowly adjusts them back into a neat pile before getting back to the rest of them. Darkness covers over a third of the frame behind Swift. Swift has four pictures left in his hands. The shadow is half of the frame, and a sound of static can be heard. Three. The static becomes louder. Two. Almost sounding like wind blowing straight into the microphone. Swift does not seem to hear it. One. A shrill tone, starting low, quickly overcomes the static in volume, almost unbearable to listen to. Zero. Silence. The video skips a frame, and the shadow is gone. Swift pauses for a moment, and then takes up the final picture again. “Who are these ponies?” The shrill tone and static noise return, louder than before. But quickly, they are replaced with the sound of laughter on the wind. Swift’s eyes widen as he hears the noise. His head looking quickly around the room. “Do you like them?” Swift grabs the camera frantically and stands up. “Where are you!?” The view darts around the room swiftly and erratically. He holds the picture he was holding before up to the lens to give it a clear look at it. The mare and stallion holding the foal. He slides the picture out of the frame. “Do you like it?” A mare with a straight mane in a hospital gown stands in the middle of the room. She stares at him curiously. Swift begins to pant, almost falling backwards. “Please tell me you like them…” Swift stammers. “I made them myself.” Swift says nothing, his breath heavy and burdened. Without another word, the mare’s face turns exceptionally depressed. Her eyes drop to the floor, and her hair drifts slowly down to her face. Suddenly, her focus shoots over to the door. The mare becomes panicked. "No!" No other sound can be heard and Swift searches the room for what scared the mare, aiming the camera in all directions. "You can't make me! I won't wear the halo again!" Reaching down, she picks up something from the floor, but nothing is seen in her hoof. The mare throws the unseen object through the broken window, and the faint sound of glass shattering, like an echo, drifts through the room. She steps up on the ledge of the window, looking back over her shoulder at the door. “Don’t jump!” Swift shouts, finding his voice and his courage. The mare’s robe drifts slightly in the breeze, her hair cascading over her shoulder. Her pupils have shrunk, giving her a frenzied look as she stares into the dark abyss below her. “Don’t!” “I’m coming, angel!” She screams as she leaps out through the window, her shriek splitting the night. “No!” Swift shouts, running to the window and aiming the camera out. A branch obscures the view of the ground. Swift cannot see where she fell. His breathing becomes heavy again, and frantic as he looks for her. Loud hoofsteps are heard charging down the hall outside of the room. “Swift!” Rivet is heard shouting. “Don’t jump!” “Get away from the window!” Clyde can be heard running into the room. The camera shakes as Swift is grabbed from behind and pulled away from the window. “What were you thinking?” Clyde stares Swift in the eyes. Swift is dead silent, most likely from the shock. “What happened?” Rivet asks. Swift remains silent, his breath heavy and quick. It becomes irregular and his eyes flutter shut. As they do, his breathing returns to normal. “Swift? Swift?” “Let’s get him back to the waiting room.” November 7: 1November 7: 1 [Timestamp: November 7, 8:46 AM] “Good morning, Equestria.” Rivet stares into the camera lens. He rotates the machine to face the other two who are settling down for breakfast. Clyde sits, making a sandwich while Swift lies in bed, chewing on something. An awkward silence falls over the group as they each eat their meals. Eventually, Rivet breaks it with a slight chuckle. “Hey, guys, remember that concert” He looks at the other two. “Which one?” Clyde cocks his head for a moment, then his eyes widen and he cracks a smile. “Oh yeah! Of course I do. That’s how we all met.” Swift smiles weakly, “That’s not entirely true. I knew both of you before the concert, you just didn’t know each other.” “Yeah,” Rivet grins, “But you never introduced us.” “Man, that was one weird show.” notes Clyde. Swift chuckles, “Who just runs out on stage with an air cannon full of confetti and just blasts the crowd?” “Oh, man,” Rivet shakes his head, “I was cleaning colourful bits of paper out of my ears for weeks.” “The music wasn’t even all that good.” Clyde states. All of them laugh loudly. When the laughter dies down, they all seem to be in higher spirits. They get back to eating their meal, but the silence between them seems less awkward now. For a moment, Swift’s smile falters, and his eyes somberly look down to the floor. He nods once and looks at the other two. “You guys are probably wondering what was happening last night.” The other two take on the same expressions as Swift, but give no response. “Truth is… I’m still not really sure myself. If I could play back what the camera recorded for you, I would. Not just to make myself feel better, but to let me know for sure what happened. But my camera doesn’t do playbacks, and the tapes don’t fit the other cameras… I don’t know how it looked to you guys… I don’t know…” “It looked to us like you were about to swan dive out the window.” Rivet mutters. “I saw something,” Swift shakes his head, “Someone jumped out that window. I was looking for them.” “Describe them.” “It was a mare.” Swift shrugs. “Long straight mane, hospital gown. Big blue eyes.” “Are you sure she was even there?” Clyde cocks his head. “I-I… I’m not…” Rivet’s head snaps up, “Maybe you were sleepwalking? That would explain why none of us heard or saw her. You could have been having night terrors.” “Actually, that makes sense,” Clyde nods, “That’s probably what it was.” “This place must just be getting to me. I mean, we did find a corpse yesterday.” “Alright. It’s settled,” Rivet decides, “Let’s put that weirdness behind us, and get on with our day.” “Agreed.” [Timestamp: November 7, 11:46 AM] “-And that’s why you’re sticking with me.” Clyde gestures to himself. “Fine…” The scene is of another hallway in the hospital, this one on the second floor, light streaming in through the windows giving the hospital a warm glow. “What are we even doing?” “Not sure.” Clyde grins back at the camera. “But we’ll find out.” “Actually,” Rivet says, “I wanted to check out that foal’s room again.” “What for?” Swift asks, worry seeping into his words. The camera swings around Swift to see Rivet motioning backwards towards the room. “If you were dreaming, there has to be something that triggered it. there has to be a reason your brain chose that room.” Clyde walks into the shot. “He has been spending most of his time in there.” “I just want to be sure.” Rivet shrugs. “Besides, there might be something that can tell us who that patient was. I’ve read a few files from that room, but I’m not one hundred percent sure which one it could be.” “Alright. Let’s go in.” Swift mutters. The three of them enter the room, still in the same state it was the night before. Swift nervously shifts as he enters the room, this being made apparent by the camera bobbing repeatedly from side to side. Rivet heads straight to the bed, putting his face to the floor and peering underneath. Almost immediately after, he calls to Clyde to help him move the bed. The two ponies work together, shifting the bed slightly from the wall. Rivet shimmies in between the bed and the wall and picks something shiny up. “Is that a knife?” Swift asks with an air of panic. “No,” Rivet assures him, “It’s just a medical alert bracelet.” Swift breathes out slowly. Placing the bracelet in his saddle bag, Rivet walks over to the window to look out over where Swift saw the mare jump. “Hey.” Clyde whispers as quietly as he can to Swift. “What?” Swift whispers back. [Timestamp: November 7, 11:53 AM] The camera is aimed at Rivet, zoomed in on his torso and head as he continues to look out the window, his gaze shifting rapidly. The room is dead silent, except for the sound of the wind whistling through shards of the broken window. The wind blows Rivet’s short mane slightly, and it falls back into place as soon as the gust ceases. Rivet lets out a sigh. A shadow forms on the wall behind Rivet. Rivet seems to notice something in the distance, and he squints at whatever it is. It begins to grow, closer and closer to Rivet. Rivet takes a pace forward, closer to the edge of the window. A crack is heard, and Rivet pulls his hoof back as he notices broken glass on the floor so close to the window. Shaking his head, he looks back out the window. The shadow continues to grow, closer and closer to Rivet. Suddenly, a hoof comes from off the frame and grabs Rivet, jerking him towards the window, and then dragging him back into the room. Rivet lets loose a terrified shriek as he falls to the floor, his wings flapping wildly and then snapping tightly to his sides. He is shaking and his head looks around, eyes wide. The camera is picked up, and laughter is heard from behind the camera. Turning, the camera shows Clyde standing over the fallen Rivet, smiling broadly and laughing loudly. Rivet continues looking terrified. “Oh, come on!” Clyde manages between fits of laughter. “That was a prime prank! You should have seen your face!” Rivet fights to form words, but all he manages to make are squeaking noises. “Man, oh man!” Swift laughs, moving over to Rivet, who soon becomes very red in the face, and manages to speak. “You’re an ass!” “You screamed at least twice as loud as Swift!” Clyde says. “I thought you were gonna fly out the window for a second!” Swift adds. “I…” Rivet shifts uneasily. “I wouldn’t...” “Oh! That’s right!” Swift turns the camera on himself. “Rivet over here is scared of heights! Yes, ladies, the wings are just for show. This is no Wonderbolt.” “Hey! No.” Rivet shouts. “You’re scared of heights?” Clyde looks down at him. “Seriously?” “All my life.” Rivet huffs. Clyde laughs, “You’re a Pegasus!” “So!?” “How can you be scared of heights?” “I was born on the ground, and I was raised on it. Mom was an earth pony, dad wasn’t home much, he was at work. He never had time to teach me to fly, alright?” “Hey, the ground’s not so bad! That’s my turf!” “I just wish I could have learned sooner.” Rivet looks distant for a moment. “You still screamed like a filly.” Swift chuckles. “You can easily be replaced.” Rivet points towards the camera. “You were all like,” Swift squeaks up his voice, “Help me! Help me!” Clyde laughs at the display while Rivet’s face turns to one of absolute distaste. Suddenly, he gets a coy smile on his face. “You think that’s embarrassing?” he looks up at Clyde, “Why don’t we tell the world who your marefriend is?” Clyde ceases his giggling. “Don’t even think about it. Don’t bring her into this.” Rivet starts singing, “Clyde and-” “Shut up!” “-Sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” “At least I’m stallion enough to go up the tree.” Swift giggles loudly, before making an ‘ooh’ing noise at Rivet, who blushes madly. “And stallion enough to ask a mare out.” Rivet blushes further. Swift zooms in on his embarrassed friend’s face. “Can we get a close up of that?” “Go away!” Rivet puts a hoof over his face. “Aww… Is little Rivet camera shy?” Swift asks in the same squeaky voice. “This coming from the filly who’s always hiding behind the camera.” Rivet shoots back. “And the one who falls for every girl he sees!” Clyde adds. “Whoa! Don’t bring me into this!” [Camera 1] “Hey, bro,” Clyde whispers from behind the camera, which is focused on Rivet. “Yeah?” he whispers back. “Thanks for being a good sport. I really wanted to get Swift’s mind off of what happened last night. A good prank was my best option.” “What was the other option?” “Locking you in a closet while Swift and I whisper random lines from ghost stories through the key hole.” “Thanks for picking this one.” “No problem.” [Timestamp: November 7, 3:33 PM] “Who’s hungry?” Swift mutters. The scene shows a large hall with steel tables that have been fixed to the floor with screws. The benches where ponies would sit are either affixed to the tables, or screwed to the floor in a similar fashion. The floor itself is made of large ceramic tiles that were once polished and bright, but now remain tarnished and scratched. Fluorescent lights hang from the ceiling, and there is a counter from the far end of the room almost until the door. A sneeze guard covers buffet trays on the counter. “I wouldn’t eat anything that came out of this hole in the ground.” Rivet shakes his head, faking a womanly refined accent. “You sure you’re not a mare? The voice was way too convincing.” Swift chuckles. “I am one hundred percent stallion, thank you.” The three of them part ways in the cafeteria, each headed in his own direction to take a look around. Swift takes the camera into the kitchen, pushing through the double doors with a loud creek. [Camera 3] “OH MY CELESTIA!” A scream comes from out of the shot. “Swift!?” Rivet calls back from behind the camera. He immediately starts running towards the source of the scream, his panting into the microphone causes the audio to clip. Bursting into the kitchen, Rivet searches shortly for Swift, who he finds standing in the middle of the room, a blank stare on his face. “Swift!” Rivet runs to him. “Rivet…” Swift stares at Rivet with terror in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” Clyde charges into the kitchen. “Look…” Swift looks down for a moment, and then raises a hoof. Rivet peers at a shining piece of metal in his friend’s hoof. “What is-” “It’s so unnatural…” Swift cracks up, while revealing what he holds in his hoof. A shiny, metal spork. “You guys are going to destroy my heart.” [Timestamp: November 7, 5:47 PM] The shot opens in the waiting room, the three ponies are sitting down and eating meals out of cans. Swift is using the spork. For a few moments they say nothing, but soon, Clyde looks up. “Riv, have you figured out which files match which ponies?” “No,” Rivet sighs, “not yet. I really feel like I need to, though.” “Swift, any more stories? C’mon, I hate silent meals.” “There is this one.” Swift puts his can down. "There was another patient here. She saw a lot of things. That was her problem. She hallucinated all the time. They started out when she was young. Her parents just thought it was an imaginary friend, but when she grew older, they dropped her here. Her visions were nice when she was young, but they started to become... Disturbed…” “Disturbed how?” Rivet cocks his head. “They became really violent. Think of your worst fears and multiply it by a thousand. When she wasn’t passed out from fatigue, she was screaming twenty-four seven from the things in her head. She couldn’t take it any more. So, one day, started scratching at her face. By the time the doctors got into the room, she had practically clawed her eyes out. The doctors did their best, but her vision was permanently damaged.” “What happened to her?” Clyde asks. Swift shakes his head. “I don’t know.” “What?” Rivet asks, “no wandering ghost? No ghosts running around and stealing eyes?” “Would that be better?” “There’s no closure.” “Sometimes we don’t get closure. Would you rather she ran around stealing eyes?” “It would be scarier.” November 8: 1November 8: 1 [Timestamp: November 8 12:25 AM] The crashing of shattering glass echoes through the room. “What the hell!?” Swift snatches up the camera and searches for the broken glass. One of the shatter-proof portholes on the door seems to have exploded inwards. “How did that happen?” Rivet asks sleepily. The three stallions gather around the glass to inspect, when suddenly another window is heard shattering. It’s found to be the other porthole in the door. The three of them stumble back from the doors. Static floods the audio followed by a loud bang, like a breaker being thrown. The sudden sound causes the ponies to stumble further. Along with the static, a slight squealing can be heard in the distance. “Get away…” The same angry female voice from the foal’s room hisses from nowhere. “Swift?” Rivet turns to the camera. Swift does not reply. “Get away from…” “Are you hearing…” Rivet stops, obviously getting a nod in reply from one or both of his friends. “Get away from the…” “What’s it say-” “Get away from the door!” The voice screams loudly. “Patients are not allowed to leave!” The doors shake violently, spraying shards of glass around the room. All three stallions charge away from the door, Clyde slams through the door leading to the waiting room. As the doors to the waiting room close, the glass explodes and the locks can be heard turning. Rivet screeches to a halt on the tile floor, reeling to look at the doors. “Did those just lock!?” Rivet asks, running back to the doors. He tugs on the handle, but to no avail. “Damn!” Clyde stomps his hooves in frustration. “What do we do?” Swift asks, panic gripping his words. “Is there anything we can do?” Rivet kicks to door one last time. Swift aims the lens at the other two.“We could…” “What?” “Well, we could try to…” Swift searches for the words, “stop them.” “Stop them?” Clyde cocks an eyebrow. “What do you think we are?” “Well it’s better than just sitting here, scared of anything that creaks.” As if on cue, a loud bang echoes through the room, causing them all to jump. Rivet clenches his teeth, staring down at the floor beneath his hooves. After a moment, he raises his head. “How?” [Timestamp: November 8, 12:34 AM] A hoof is rifling through a kitchen drawer. There are random odds and ends filling it, but the hoof grabs nothing. “Anything?” Swift asks. “Why are we looking for salt?” Clyde shoots back, closing the drawer he’s looking through. “It keeps ghosts away, supposedly.” Swift replies. Rivet closes another drawer. “No. Apparently, they decided that getting the salt out of here was more important than getting bodies out of the basement, and the files out of the cabinets!” “Calm down. It’s probably just a coincidence, this place must have been dumped in a hurry. Maybe it lost funding, and they never got around to emptying it out.” “Well, if there’s no salt, what are we gonna do?” Clyde asks. Rivet fishes out the journal and a flashlight from his saddlebag. “I’m going to find out what happened to this place.” “Oh yeah! A good story from the crazy Doctor’s journal will calm us down.” Clyde states with heavy sarcasm. “It’s better than nothing…” Swift grumbles. “We might learn something helpful. Flip to the last page.” “Will do.” Rivet flips through the journal, coming to the last page with writing on it, still several pages from the end of the book. “Let’s see…” “November 14, Well damn it all. I suppose it was only a matter of time, though. The backers finally cut funding to the hospital after the last incident. How could this happen? It just doesn’t make any sense. I’ve failed my patients, my staff, my family, and myself. But, if there is any goodness left in this world, I just hope my patient is in a better place. She’s been through so much. If there is an afterlife, I hope she’s been saved a penthouse apartment, because after all she’s been through, she has certainly deserved it. Doctor Chlorohoof, MD, Ex-Chief of Medicine.” Silence falls. “Go back.” Swift commands, breaking the silence between them. “What’s the incident he’s talking about?” “Lemme check…” Rivet flips back a few pages. “November 6, Why her? Why did she have to do it? Neither of them deserved what happened. I suppose explanation is necessary. The head Nurse of Night Watch has been-Had been abusing her powers over the last several months. She took patients down for unnecessary EST treatments. I don’t know why she did it. But the logs don’t lie. The number of treatments is sickening. It may be the best treatment we have, but her use of it was maniacal. I suppose it is rude to speak ill of the dead, but it is the truth.” “Dead?” Swift asks, “How?” “Let me finish… Wait.” Rivet shifts a page, and as he does, a piece of paper falls out onto the floor. “Hm?” Clyde picks up the slip and holds it to his face, using a flashlight to illuminate it. “It’s from the local paper. Murder Suicide at Trotsburg’s-Crazy Kills Nurse Before Herself. Earlier this week, there was a break out at Trotsburg’s Hospital. The patient in question dragged her nurse down to the Electric Shock Therapy room in the second basement. Forcing her into the shackles, she is believed to have forced her nurse to endure several sessions of shocks before the nurse succumbed. It would have been a painful way to die. After murdering the nurse, the patient feared the police and threw herself from her second story room window. She died instantly when her head hit the ground.” “That’s awful.” Rivet shakes his head. “That’s not true!” Swift states. “I saw her. She was scared of the police, yeah. But she… She couldn’t have killed her.” “What makes you so sure?” Rivet turns to him. “She was crazy. She was probably hopped up on all sorts of drugs, what was stopping her?” “That nurse terrifies her,” Swift argues, “she can hardly talk about her, and she’s the only thing keeping her in check. How could she kill her?” “People do strange things when they’re scared.” Clyde replies. “What makes you want to take this mare’s side, anyway?” Rivet asks. “I don’t know. The way the Doctor keeps talking about her. It just makes me so mad that a nurse, someone who’s supposed to look out for ponies like her, was torturing them. What for?” [Timestamp: November 8, 12:54 AM] “Are you sure about this?” Rivet is the one behind the camera now. Swift stands in front of the chest in the foal’s room, with Clyde holding a flashlight in his teeth. “Well, I want to know the truth. This is the only way.” Swift nods. The shot moves from the stallions, to the door, and back to the stallions. “What about that voice?” “I think that’s the nurse.” “The one who got electrocuted?” Swift nods. “With the information from the journal, and the from what the…” Swift almost has to force the word out, “the ghost said… I’d say it’s more than likely.” “I wish this wasn’t happening,” Rivet sighs. “What do you have to do?” Clyde asks through his teeth and the flashlight. “She seems to come when I hold onto this picture.” Swift notes. “What picture?” Rivet asks. “The one of her dream family.” Swift sifts through the pictures, stopping to look up at the camera. “Ready?” “Sure.” Clyde nods. “As I’ll ever be…” Rivet agrees. The screaming sound of static and the familiar chattering sound blow madly through the room as Swift reaches for the desired picture. Rivet and Clyde stumble from the sounds, but Swift seems to be putting all his might into keeping a steady composure. Rivet scans the room shakily as the sound dies away. “A-angel?” “What-” Rivet catches himself as the camera falls on the apparition of the mare with the straight mane. “Angel... You came back.” “Y-yes.” Swift still stammers. “I… C-came back.” “We have to hurry and leave!” The mare urges. “That monster could be back anytime now!” “We have to know,” Swift takes deep breaths, “what happened to the… Monster?” “What do you mean? She could be coming right now! Nothing can stop her!” “You don’t… Remember?” “Angel! She’s coming! We have to leave!” A loud bang can be heard in the halls, like a steel door slamming shut. “She’s…” The mare stops, her eyes wide and staring at the door. “Swift. We should get out of here.” Clyde hisses. “Right.” Swift comes away from the mare, and the three of them head towards the door. The mare screams, “Angel! Please! She’ll get you!” Rivet gulps, “What do we do?” “I don’t know…” Swift mutters. “Get the hell back to your rooms!” The angry feminine voice from before shouts. “Give me the camera.” Swift takes the camera from Rivet and begins scanning the room. In the far corner of the room, a dark area that has the appearance of water starts to run down the wall into the space where wall meets floor. It runs out of some unseen hole in pulses, like an open wound bleeding out onto the floor. It spreads up the wall, until it is the height of a stallion. Suddenly, the pulsing stops, and a pair of glowing orbs appear in the shadow. The come to rest at head level, gaining the look of angry eyes staring out of the wall. The wall begins to bulge, almost like it is collapsing in on itself, but the wall does not buckle. Suddenly, what looks like a hoof comes out of the bulge, black like the stain on the wall. It points at the three stallions. “All of you!” A distorted female voice screams, “Now!” “Run!” The mare with the straight mane shouts frantically. “Run! And take my foals with you! They need to be safe!” A hideous, blood curdling chuckle echoes out from the shadow on the wall. “Oh. You’re still seeing those foals? I suppose there’s no other option, then. Hehehe... Let’s go back to the halo, shall we?” “Angel! Run!” “I’ll deal with you three after!” The same chuckle echoes through the room as the blackness sinks back into the wall, with the mare being sucked in after it, fading like sand through the cracks until the room is left in still, calm, silence. “She…” Swift whispers, “Didn’t remember… How can you forget how you died?” “Maybe she didn’t.” Rivet coughs, his voice cracking with every word. “Maybe she remembers how she died, but not how the nurse died. Why would you be scared of something you killed?” “Unless she didn’t kill her.” Swift argues. “We have to be sure. Maybe that’s our only chance of getting out of here.” [Timestamp: November 8, 1:08 AM] Click. Clack. Click. Clack. The sound of hooves rolling down metal stairs is all that let’s the viewer know that the camera is rolling when the screen is black. Click. Clack. Only the sound of hooves, and the breathing of three stallions. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap. As the sound changes, it seems they have reached the bottom of the stairwell. The camera is jostled, and a faint click can be heard just before the image of a metal door bathed in the eerie green light comes into view. The door has a placard on it which read, “Basement 2”. One stallion moves to it and shoves his way through the door, turning back to fix his mane after it falls into his eyes. In silence, the three of them head down the hall until Clyde asks them to stop. A faint weeping is all that makes any noise in the otherwise dead hall. “What is that?” Rivet whispers, as if speaking louder than the crying would cause whatever was crying to come after them. “That,” Clyde whispers in response, “is the Dressmaker.” Rivet coughs and nods. “We have something else we need to do right now.” Swift reminds them before urging them down the hall. The stop at a door when Rivet pulls out the map and keys from his saddlebag. He selects the key and sticks it in the lock, turning it slowly. The lock clicks and Rivet pushes inward. Stepping through, they find themselves in one of the Electric Shock Therapy rooms. The control booth in the corner of the room has a glass screen separating the viewing doctor or nurse from the patient. The table in the centre of the room has cracked leather clamps for four hooves, the neck, and the waist. At one end is the headpiece, with wires connecting it to a large generator located on the wall opposite of the control booth, but with wires leading back to the booth. Rivet pulls the journal out of his bag and starts going through it, pulling out the newspaper article as well. Clyde stands close to the door, moving a small metal tool box next in front of the door to hold it open. Swift begins looking around the room. “Riv, is this the right room?” Swift asks. Rivet closes the journal. “I think so. If the article and journal, as well as the logs are correct.” “So, what are we doing down here?” Clyde peers out the door like a lookout. Swift can be heard tugging a paper out from under his wing. “I want to know if she really killed her.” “You brought the picture?” Rivet turns his head from facing the glass to look over at Swift. Suddenly, the glass of the booth explodes outwards, causing Rivet to scream and fall to the floor. He skids on the tiles for a moment before coming to rest just before the table. As he raises himself from the floor, only the left side of his head is seen in the shot. “Rivet!” Clyde runs from the door over to his friend. “Are you okay?” Swift asks frantically. “Oh-” Rivet begins to hyperventilate. “My-my-oh no-please!” He raises a for leg to cover his right eye, then pulls it away after a moment. A small amount of blood is on his hoof as he inspects it with his left eye. “Clyde-Swift-My eye!” Clyde grabs the sides of Rivet’s head with his hooves and looks him over. “You’re cut bad. We need to get him to a doctor.” “Am I gonna…” Rivet’s voice is shaking. “Am I gonna live?” “Yes you are,” Swift states, sitting next to Rivet, “You’re gonna be just fine.” “The bleeding is manageable.” Clyde nods. “But we need to get him to a doctor for his eye. Rivet. Can you see me?” “Yes, of course.” Rivet starts taking deep breaths. Clyde puts a hoof over Rivet’s left eye. “How about now?” “I…” Rivet stammers. “I’m not sure. It’s all… Blurry and… Blood.” “Who has the first-aid kit?” Swift asks. “I do.” Rivet points to his bag. Swift quickly fishes the box out and pulls out a bandage. “Clyde, is there any glass in his eye?” “Not that I can see. It looks like it just cut across.” “Then help me tie this around his head.” As the two of them work together to tie the bandage on, neither of them notice a shadow creeping down the wall. It runs across the mortared seems in between the brickwork on the wall, like a maze. When it hits the ground, it forms a puddle, a stream, and three more puddles. All four are roughly the size of a ball each. “Is it tight?” Swift asks. Rivet groans, “very.” He looks down to his shaking hoof, still with his own blood on it. He takes a deep breath, lets it out quickly and shakes his head, putting his hoof back down. “Good.” Clyde nods. “Now, let’s get you up and to the ground floor. That’s enough.” “We have to find out!” Rivet shook his head. “I am not leaving until we find out what happened here. There’s nothing we can do anyway.” “Let’s at least move away from the explosive equipment.” Clyde reasons. “He’s right,” Swift says, “we don’t know what’s going to happen.” Rivet nods and follows Clyde to the door, sitting next to it. A hiss like compressed gas leak startles the three stallions, as Swift turns the camera. Apparently he sees the shadows on the floor, or rather, the four bulging masses on the concrete floor. The have the colour of tar, and they bubble and grow. Swift hold out the picture. “Hello?” The four masses explode like grenades, spraying the black substance like smoke around the room. Rivet and Clyde shout in surprise, but it is unclear what is happening to them. The steel door is heard slamming hard. The smoke begins to clear, and a metal object is seen sailing towards the camera. Without a chance to shout in surprise, Swift falls to the ground, the camera toppling away from him. As it lands, it shows Swift’s unconscious face on the ground. The camera is jostled. November 8: 2November 8: 2 [Camera 3] “Clyde!” Rivet calls loudly. There is no response. Rivet turns frantically to see Clyde on the ground, a dazed expression on his face, “Hello?” Clyde shakes his head. “Is there anybody in there?” Rivet puts down the camera and reaches for his friend’s shoulder, shaking him lightly. “Just nod if you can hear me.” Clyde nods. Then he shakes his head madly and takes a quick breath. “Is your eye-” “It’s still bandaged,” Rivet groans, “and it stings like hell.” “Where’s Swift?” Clyde’s ears perk up as his head whips around, tossing his mane from side to side. “I think he’s stuck in the room,” Rivet replies, “with whatever threw us out.” [Timestamp: November 8, 1:23 AM] The camera is focused on Swift, but set up on a table. It shows him lying on the floor, his eyes slowly fluttering open. He takes a breath, and attempts to reach a hoof to his head, but his hoof does not move. Swift’s eyes open wide, and his head turns from side to side, observing his hooves’ inability to move. “Riv! Clyde!” Swift calls out, but no answer comes. A cackle fills the room, and Swift’s head snaps towards the direction of the sound. Swift stammers, “What are-” “Your friends are indisposed right now. I will be the nurse overseeing your… Operation.” The female voice cackles at herself. Swift struggles against his unseen restraints as he lies on the floor. “I think you’ll find I took every precaution to keep you still,” she hisses, “we wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself, now would we?” In his struggle, Swift spreads his wings, slapping them against the floor. “Oh, I had completely forgotten about those,” the voice states, “It’s been ages since I worked on a Pegasus.” Suddenly, his wings seem to freeze in mid-flap, fully extended across the floor. “You look just like the anatomical diagrams in the textbooks,” she laughs, then goes silent for a moment. “Let’s see if the inside is the same.” “What are you!?” Swift screams. A shadowy haze winds around the room, two glowing eyes within. The haze surrounds Swift’s head. The voice whispers, “Excited.” Swift begins to shake slightly. “I haven’t been able to work on a living body in quite some time. It’s so exciting to see some fresh meat around here.” She cackles. “Why?” Swift asks, his voice sounding a little hoarse. “Why are you-” “I hate them.” The voice states, her voice callous and wretched. “All of them.” “W-what?” The voice becomes even more choked, “I hate all of them. All of these lunatics. They make me sick. They don’t deserve any better than I had!” Swift gulps audibly. “Don’t act surprised. Your little bitch of a friend read my file. I was in a place like this when I was her age. Oh, it was hell.” The mist with glowing eyes begins to take the shape of a mare. “The staff were awful. They hurt me. They hurt me in every way they could. They knew just how to do it, too.” The black form of the mare looks over at a cabinet resting in the corner. The cabinet begins to shake furiously. It rocks back and forth on its legs, slamming against the wall. Suddenly, the cabinet falls, but stops mid-fall, just above Swift’s left wing. “The worst part is,” the mare laughs, “I knew it was coming. Oh, all the signs were there. I got used to their habits. I knew exactly what was coming, and when. The anticipation! Oh the rush of terror! It was the hardest part. Probably worse than the actual ‘treatment’ was. And they would come for me. And they would hurt me.” The cabinet slams into the floor and Swift’s wing., a disgusting crunch following. Swift screams, his voice cracking as the pain rips through him. His limbs writhe with the pain, and the muscles in his abdomen and limbs strain against his restraints. “And they would hurt me again.” The cabinet shifts slightly. “And again.” It slide further. “And again!” She screams. Swift screams loudly, “STOP!” [Camera 3] “We have to do something!” Rivet shouts, hearing Swift’s cries. “What can we do?” Clyde barks. Rivet slams two hooves into the floor. “I don’t know!” “There has to be something!” Clyde taps the floor. Suddenly, he looks down to his left. Reaching over, he pulls up a swatch of fabric, different from before. His face seems to light up with an idea. “What is it?” “I think we can do something.” Clyde decides. “Follow me.” The two of them move quickly over to the morgue, Rivet lagging behind. He grunts occasionally, like reacting to a papercut. The two of them push through the steel door and into the cold, dark room. “What are we doing?” Rivet asks. “These… These things can interact with each other.” Clyde begins. “The patient is scared of the nurse, and the nurse can control her. Maybe another nurse can do something. Maybe not scare her, but maybe distract her long enough for us to help Swift.” “What are you thinking?” Rivet shakes his head. “Bringing more of them out?” “It’s our best shot.” Clyde argues. “But how do we find them? They just show up.” “It’s something.” Rivet pauses to think. “Every time they show up. Something sets them off. Swift figured out that the drawing brought out the patient. It was something she was connected to.” “But what brought out the nurse?” Rivet is dead silent. “Rivet. This is your theory. What brought on the nurse.” “I think… I think I did…” “What?” “I was going through the files, and… I found her file. I think that’s what made her… What…” “You…” “I’m so sorry.” “It… It doesn’t matter! What’s done is done! We have to worry about helping Swift.” “Right.” Rivet swallows. “So, what did you do just before the Dressmaker showed up?” “I turned off the gramophone.” Rivet turns to the gramophone in the corner. It sits quietly in the shadows, the record still and silent. Clyde walks over to it, looking back over his shoulder at Rivet. Slowly, he lowers a hoof onto the surface of the machine, touching it gently and quietly. After a few moments, nothing happens. “Was there something else?” Rivet asks. Clyde slaps a hoof to his forehead. “The swatch!” “What?” “The swatch of fabric. Is there one on the ground?” Rivet uses the camera to scan the floor, stopping on a small square of fabric. “There!” Clyde steps over to it. He drops his camera next to the Gramophone. He leans close to it, hesitating more than before. His hoof trembles slightly, holding it back from the small piece of fabric. With one deep breath he slams the hoof down on the silk. A screaming cry from a mare blasts through the room. After the initial scream, weeping and whimpering replace it as Rivet turns the camera around, searching for it. The camera comes to a stop aimed at a dark corner, where a mare with a frenzied, but styled, mane sits weeping over a bundle of fabric. The same dark stains cover the bundle. “Ruined… Ruined…” She weeps, leaning her forehead down to touch the bundle affectionately. Rivet audibly gulps behind the camera. Clyde looks over at Rivet, then back to the mare in the corner. “Miss?” Clyde kneels before her, getting closer to her eye level. “Ruined…” She continues to whimper. “Please,” Clyde whispers, “we need your help.” “Help…” She looks down at the bundle. “The nurse, she’s…” Clyde looks at her intently, awaiting her gaze. Slowly, the mare raises her head. “Ruined… Everything…” “The dress isn’t important.” Clyde moves closer, speaking tenderly. “Ruined… Everything…” She turns her head back down, tears falling onto the bundle. “Clyde.” Rivet whispers. “What if she’s not talking about the dress?” Clyde looks up in realization. Then back down at the mare. “It’s not your fault.” The weeping stops with a hiccough. “It…” “The accident wasn’t your fault.” Clyde stares intently at the mare. “You couldn’t have done anything. It’s not your fault.” “She’s…” The mare hiccoughs again. “She’s dead.” “It’s not your fault.” The mare says nothing, she does nothing, the bundle in her forelegs is still. Clyde repeats himself. Suddenly, the bundle in her forelegs fades into sand, pooling on the floor beneath her hooves. “We need you,” Clyde begs. As the bundle finishes disintegrating, the sand turns black and sinks into some unseen hole. The mare rises to her feet, cocking her head. “Please.” The mare half grins. Her voice is sweet, but ladened with pain and sorrow. “What do you need?” [Timestamp: November 8, 1:38 AM] Swift is shaking slightly, trying his best not to move his wings out of reflex. His eyes are open and full of terror at the sight of his captor. His hooves and torso are still held in place by their unseen restraints. “Oh, this is fun.” The distorted mare’s voice cackles. “But I can promise you one thing. I’m going to enjoy killing you and your friends.” The word ‘friends’ almost sounded spat out, like it was disgusting to the mare. “Leave…” Swift pants, “leave them alone.” She laughs again, louder. “Cute.” The black body fades back into smoke, spreading around the room. “But you don’t have a choice. You’re my patients now. And you will take the medicine that the doctor orders!” The cabinet shifts again. Swift tenses up and emits a mixture of a groan and a scream. The smoke reforms into the black mare shape. Her glowing eyes stare at the camera lens. Her gaze remains on the frame for several seconds before she moves on. She goes eerily silent, stepping around Swift to a table. The drawer slides open, and a thin metal piece is pulled out. It’s a scalpel. It begins to rotate slowly before coming to rest just above Swift. “Let’s see what you look like.” She whispers. “They say everyone is beautiful on the inside.” The knife slowly drifts down towards Swift’s chest. The whole room seems to grow tense in the silence. “Nurse?” Another feminine voice asks. “What the hell is it?” The voice of the nurse hisses, her voice filled with disappointed excitement. “I’m afraid the Doctor needs to see you.” “Don’t you have a dress to make? Tell the Doctor I’m busy!” “He says it’s urgent.” The scalpel is slammed into the hard tile floor. Hard enough to stick. “I’m busy! I’m in with a patient!” “The Doctor does not like to wait. You know that.” “I’ll have to pull this one and his little bitch friends back later!” She shouts. “Then do it later.” The Dressmaker orders. “Dammit!” The figure dissolves into smoke, and the smoke ploughs into the wall. As it does, it leaves a black stain on the wall, which begins climbing the cracks in the wall, like a pipeline full of tar. Swift’s limbs go limp as he regains control of them. The sound of weeping whips past the camera as the door unlocks with a click. Suddenly, two sets of hoofs were heard galloping through the door. “Swift!” Clyde shouted. “Holy…” Rivet muttered as he saw the cabinet on Swift’s wing. “Rivet, I’ll lift the cabinet, you pull Swift out.” Clyde orders. Rivet nods, putting tender hooves around Swift’s waist. He nods again to show Clyde that he is ready. Using all of his might, Clyde pushes against the cabinet, bracing himself firmly against the floor. With a groan and a creak, the cabinet lifts off the floor, causing Swift to cry out in pain. Rivet pulls him across the floor until he is sure that the cabinet will not clip his wing on its way down, then slumps over. “Rivet?” Swift pants. “What?” Rivet asks. “You look like hell.” Swift coughs. “Same to you.” Rivet chuckles. “Let’s get out of here before she comes back.” Clyde states. “Anywhere without a damn scalpel is fine by me.” Swift nods. Rivet helps Swift to his feet, Swift wincing every time his wing shifts or is jostled. The three of them walk by the camera on their way out of the room, Clyde supporting Swift on one side, and Rivet walking behind them. The camera is left, staring at the mess of cabinet and tile in the dark room. [Camera 3] The three ponies trek up the stairs, silent except for grunts and groans as Swift and Rivet wince at their injuries. The two sets of stairs seem to go by very quickly as they find themselves again on the ground floor. Rivet hands the camera to Clyde when they reach their camp. “How are we supposed to last until first light?” Rivet mutters. “We just have to keep calm.” Swift states. “It’s not like they can do much worse to us than they’ve done.” “Only one of them wants us dead.” Clyde turns to Swift. “Just that nurse that Rivet let out.” “What?” Swift turns to Rivet. “You?” “I didn’t know.” Rivet looks down. “I had no idea…” “It’s not important.” Clyde states. “She’s out. We just need to figure out a way to keep ourselves safe if she comes back.” Swift thinks a moment, then nods. “If the patient really did kill her. Then she just needs to remember.” “How?” Rivet asks, turning his head so his left eye can see Swift better, giving the camera full view of the bloodied bandage wrapped around his head. “I need to remind her of what she did.” Swift decides. “If I can do that, maybe she can control the nurse.” “I hope you’re right.” Rivet shakes his head. “Otherwise, we’re screwed.” “Should I try now?” Swift looks at the other two. “Now’s better than when that crazy nurse comes back.” The other two nod in agreement as Swift pulls the hoof painting out of his bag yet again. “Here goes nothing.” Swift takes a deep breath, holding out the picture. The now familiar sound of chattering laughter of foals fills the room as the figure of a mare in a hospital gown fades into the frame. Unnoticeable at first, almost mistakable for a malformed part of the film, slowly but surely she becomes a part of the shot. “A-angel?” She says. Swift nods. “What happened to-Your w-wing!” She cries out. “The nurse-” “The nurse!?” She screams. “She got you!? How did you escape?” “That’s not important.” Swift stops her. “Please, I need to tell you something.” “As soon as she leaves us alone, we can leave together, right, Angel?” “I… I can’t say for sure.” Swift shakes his head. “Now, please. Listen. Do you remember what you did on November 6?” “November… 6?” She cocks her head. “Why?” “Do you remember?” Swift repeats. “No…” She shakes her head sadly. “Should I?” “What did you do with the nurse? The monster?” “She-she probably did the same thing she always did.” The mare lowers her head. “Then what. Something was different.” Swift adds. “November 6, Why her? Why did she have to do it? Neither of them deserved what happened. I suppose explanation is necessary.” Rivet reads off. The patient stares into the distance, her eyes wide. “D-doctor...” She mutters. “November 6…” “What happened.” Swift asks. “Nothing!” The screeching voice of the nurse rips through the room. “I took this bitch down to the lab.” The camera turns to the corner of the room, which is a swimming sea of black. Shadows that not even light can penetrate drift like slow motion across the floor, pooling out. The piercing eyes slide towards the patient, tearing through the darkness bleeding from the wall. “Angel!” The patient screams. “And tonight,” the darkness hisses, “I’ll take you and your ‘angel’ down to the lab.” “Remember!” Swift shouts, “just think!” “I-I…” The patient’s eyes grow distant again. The fog begins to envelope everyone in the room. It almost seems to grow thicker as it surrounds them. Swift looks frantically at the mare, but does not move. “I will,” the nurse’s voice screams, “kill all of you!” The fog collects around Rivet. “Oh… What are you scared of? Hm?” The eyes of the nurse rise to stare Rivet in his good eye. “Death? Pain?” The bandage is torn from his face, revealing his bloodied eye and scratched face. “I know… That sinking feeling you get when you fall. That absolute terror of no one coming to save you when your body hits the cold, hard ground, splintering every bone in your body.” Rivet begins to shake in fear, just before the smoke flies from him and wraps around Clyde. “What about you? Oh… I know. Loss. You don’t want to lose your friends, you’ve already lost so much. You don’t want to lose… The one you love. How cute. I know just how to deal with you.” “You!” The patient screams at the smoke. “What are you looking at, little bitch?” The smoke cackles. “Can’t wait to be torn apart?” “I’m not the bitch.” The patient hisses. “I killed you.” The smoke seems to freeze in mid air. “W-what did you say?” “I remember everything.” Her mane grows frenzied, and her pupils seem to shrink. “You wanted me dead. You hated me. But I killed you. That night, the morning of November 6. I had enough!” She screams loudly. “All I had to do was tie you down! I knew how all of the machines worked! I knew how you controlled the halo! All I had to do was TURN. IT. ON.” The sound of electricity blast through the air, causing the smoke to solidify in the shape of a mare with a nurses cap. “N-no! No! No! You-” She screams. “No! It hurts! Stop!” “Angel…” The mare looks to him. “I have her, and now we can be together.” “Swift! Clyde” Rivet looks towards the camera. “We have to go. Now! The doors should be unlocked!” Clyde starts running towards Rivet, but Swift hesitates, seeing the nurse writhing on the ground in agony. “Swift! We have to go!” Clyde calls over to him. Suddenly, the nurse reverts to smoke, spraying around the room in an attempt to escape the patient. The patient lets out a shout and explodes into a white smoke, spraying away like the nurse. Their voices seem to come from all corners of the hospital. The explosion pushes Swift’s wing into his side, causing him to shout in pain. Clyde and Rivet run over to him, helping him to his hooves and running with him towards the exit. The camera falls from Clyde’s hooves. “Shit! The camera!” “Forget it! Run!” The voices of the mare comes through, loud and clear in the microphone. “ANGEL! DON’T LEAVE ME ALONE!” The three of them are seen running around the corner to the exit, and no more can be seen or inferred as to their outcome. My colleagues and I discovered these three cameras while on an expedition to the Asylum. We have not yet been able to locate the three ponies featured in the film. As to the nature of the video, we can not attest to the supernatural phenomenon that occurred. November 7: 2November 7: 2 [Timestamp: November 7, 7:32 PM] “-And that’s why they called me Clyde.” “You made that up!” Rivet shakes his head. “How do you know? You weren’t there.” The three of them sit at one of the cafeteria tables, their food set before them, and cards in their hooves. The sun has begun to fade, as the silhouettes of trees can be viewed through the windows in the amber light. “So, where’s everyone going tonight?” Swift throws down a few cards. “Three fours.” “Three sevens.” Rivet drops his cards on the pile. “I think it would probably be best if we stayed in bed tonight. We don’t need a repeat of last night.” “Burn.” Clyde drops two cards on top. “I don’t know. We’re only here for a day or two more, why don’t we go exploring a little more?” “I…” Rivet stammers, “I dunno… ” “Don’t worry, Riv,” Swift gives Rivet a slap on the back, “It’s fine. I had a bad dream last night, no biggie.” Rivet sighs. Clyde drops three cards, “Three jacks.” “They all burn.” Rivet tosses a card on top, grinning. [Timestamp: November 7, 8:53 PM] “So, about the body in the basement...” Swift asks from behind the camera, pointing it at Rivet and Clyde who are adjusting their sleeping bags back in the waiting room. Instead of night vision, each of them holds a flashlight to illuminate the room. “Any ideas who it is?” “It matches the dressmaker legend that you told us.” Clyde points out. Rivet nods, “It really does. So much it’s scary.” “Did you find anything to back it up before?” “I found her file, I think.” Rivet nods again. “It’s weird seeing her file photo. Hard to tell she was a living pony.” “But is there anything that makes her the Dressmaker we think she is?” “Actually, yes. There’s a journal entry about her.” Rivet digs into his saddlebag, pulling out the leather book. He clears his throat. “October 27, A new group of students joined the workforce today. Among them was a mare I thought I recognized. She was a new nurse, a unicorn, so I assumed I recognized her from a picture in one of the school magazines I receive every month. They always seem to want to send their students here, maybe just because we’re new. Regardless, I looked into why I recognized her. When we had a moment alone, I asked her if she had been in any news articles recently. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, her face dropped into a depressed frown, and her eyes glistened with sorrow. She said, “Don’t you recognize me?” I shook my head, and she sighed loudly. She said, “Do the words, Ruined, Ruined, mean anything to you?” That’s when it hit me. I had treated her years ago after an accident she had suffered. An accident that had left her mentally scarred, and her sister dead. She had been a part-time seamstress then, and now she was one of my nurses. I was filled with pride at that moment. I had saved this girl, and she wanted to repay me by becoming a medical professional. I asked where she had been assigned. She told me she had been placed as a mortician. I worry about her in that situation. Death is what drove her to madness, and now it is her profession. I hope she does not have a relapse down there, but it is her field of choice, and I cannot argue with that. Doctor Chlorohoof, MD.” “So,” Swift excitedly begins, “so it’s true! The legend of the Dressmaker is true! All legends start from fact!” “You’re pretty excited,” Clyde says, “for a guy who just put a face and name to the body in the basement.” “But this means that some other legends could be true too,” Swift argues, “This is huge stuff!” “He’s right.” Rivet closes the journal. “This is huge.” “Maybe you could go back into the office tonight to try and find some more!” Rivet shakes his head. “I think I’ll wait until morning.” “Your loss.” “I think it would be wise if we all just hung around here tonight. We can keep looking for stuff tomorrow.” “Maybe Rivet’s right.” Clyde lies back on his bag. “We could use a good night’s sleep for once.” “I guess…” Swift grumbles. Rivet yawns, “I’m still tuckered from last night.” The yawn spreads to the other two like a wave, and they all fall silent. Rivet quitely crawls into his sleeping bag, pulling it up around his neck with a soft, Good night, guys.” They respond in kind and roll into their own bags. Each of them put out their flashlights with soft clicks. The room falls black, and silent. [Timestamp: November 7, 10:31 PM] “Buck it,” Swift mutters to himself, “I can’t sleep until I know what’s going on here for sure.” The Infrared light is now giving the shot it’s green glow, and the familiar hallway leading to the foals room fills the frame. Swift is alone, his breathing and the clicking of his hooves on the tile are the only sounds that can be heard. The door creaks lightly as he opens it, and he stands once again in the foal’s room. The camera swings to the usual chest in the corner, locked and closed as it had been when he entered before. He stops for a moment, and everything goes silent. “I…” Swift looks for the words, whispering into the microphone. “Hold on… The pictures… I took them out of the box two nights ago, and knocked them over. But last night they were back in the box. I took them out again today. But…” He gulps audibly. “Let’s get this over with.” He reaches down, placing the camera in the same position as before, and turns the key in the chest. [Camera 1] “Oh, come on, Swift…” Clyde mutters. The night-vision shot of the waiting room shows Swift’s sleeping bag, unzipped and empty of it’s occupant. “You are such a liar.” Clyde turns the camera to face the sleeping Rivet. The shot zooms in on Rivet’s face, drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth as he sleeps soundly. “He’s like a little baby,” Clyde mocks, “but he was really tired. I should let him be.” The camera levels out. “I should go find Swift. He said something about the files, so he’s probably down in the basements looking for more spooky stories to prove.” Clyde begins quietly clicking over to the stairwell to the lower levels. [Timestamp: November 7, 10:40 PM] Swift shuffles through the pictures, going one by one. He stops, pauses to think, and takes all but the last picture out of the pile. The sound of chattering laughter and static scream through the room and die out as soon as they came. “Why won’t you ever answer me?” Swift gulps, holding the picture tightly, and turns to face the mare standing behind him. Her mane is perfectly straight, except for the loose strands blowing in an invisible wind. Her big eyes stare sadly at Swift as she stands shyly in her hospital gown. “Don’t you like them?” Swift takes a deep breath and holds up the picture of the mare, stallion and foal. “Y-yes.” “You do?” Her eyes open wider. “It… It’s v-very nice.” [Camera 1] The metal stairs creak and moan as Clyde comes to the second basement. The sounds of a separate, distant squealing of metal in the halls drifts into the stairwell. “Swift? Are you in here?” No answer comes. Clyde continues through the door and into the hall. Looking around, he attempts to find the room where the sound is coming from. A quiet, feminine voice sings merrily in the distance. “Well, my little filly dear, don’t you guess, Better be making your special dress, Special dress, special dress, Better be making your special dress.” Clyde halts in his path, listening intently. Slowly, he proceeds down the hall, finding the source of the singing. Room B2-03. Clyde opens the door with a shrill creek and steps inside. All of the racks on the wall are pulled out, and the body of the mare is exposed, fabric draping over the sides of the table. The singing is more concentrated in the room, and Clyde continues to search for the source. “Well, it’s already made, trimmed in red, Stitched and sewn with blood red thread, Blood red thread, Blood red thread, Stitched and sewn with blood red thread.” The camera scans the room, the infrared light glints off of something in the corner. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be a gramophone, and a record spins slowly on the deck. Clyde chuckles, “Swift, you’re such a jerk,” and pulls the needle off of the record, silencing the tune, and returning the room to peace. “Swift!” Clyde calls, “where are you hiding?” [Timestamp: November 7, 10:48 PM] “What… Happened to you?” Swift asks quietly. “What do you mean?” “W-why are you here?” “Because it’s after light’s out, of course. And the nurse would be very mad if I left.” “What?” “She’s evil. She wants me dead.” “The nurse does?” “She wants us all dead. But me most of all. More than me, she hates my foals.” “What foals?” Swift shifts uneasily. “The foals all around us right now. They like you, I think.” The room is filled with the chattering and the mare giggles slightly. “But that nurse thinks they don’t exist. She thinks they’re in my head. Everytime I try to have fun with them, she comes in and makes them go away.” “How does she do that?” “She puts the block in my mouth, and makes me put the halo on…” “The-the what?” “The halo makes the lights dim, and then I start shaking, and everything hurts, and it feels like I’m being crushed. I-I start-start to scream!” The mare begins shrieking uncontrollably and thrashing about. Swift falls to the floor, the camera dropping to the ground for a moment before he picks it up. “IT HURTS SO MUCH! MAKE IT STOP!” Swift’s breath is heavy and fast on the microphone. The mare freezes mid-thrash, and slowly returns to her natural stance. “Then everything goes black. And when I wake up… All of my foals are gone…” “That’s… A-awful…” [Camera 3] “You guys suck. I thought we agreed we would stay here tonight.” Rivet grumbles into the camera, back at the camp. “But no. Screw what Rivet thinks, lets go out and scare ourselves to death. I won’t be able to sleep with those two jerks out running around. I might as well scare myself too!” [Camera 1] “Swift? Where are you at?” Suddenly, the music comes back on, and the female voice begins to sing again. “Well she wouldn’t say yes and she wouldn’t say no…” Clyde turns back to the gramophone, but the record does not turn, and the needle is still on the rack. “What in the…” Clyde puts his head close to the gramophone, but no music is coming from it. “All she’d do was sit and sew…” “Swift?” The camera scans the room, stopping on a small swatch of fabric laying on the floor. “What’s…” He clops over to it, picking it up in his hoof and holding it to the camera lens. “What’s this doing down here?” Clyde takes a closer peek at the swatch. “Silk...? This is really expensive stuff…” “Sit and sew, sit and sew, All she’d do was…” “Where is that coming from?” “Sit.” A rattling can be heard, like a motor running in the distance, but charging ever closer to the camera. “Swift?” Clyde calls out. “And.” “Who’s there!?” Clyde scans more frantically. “Sew!” The light sound of crying can be heard in the room, and Clyde whips around to see a unicorn mare with a flowing mane sitting on the ground. She holds a bundle of cloth tightly to her, and her head is nearly pressed to it. Upon closer inspection, the fabric has dark stains on multiple spots. Clyde gulps. “H-hello?” The unicorn continues to cry, her face scratched on one tear stained cheek. She leans down and kisses the bundle of cloth in her hooves. “A-are you o…” Clyde stops and focuses on the bundle, which seems to be pulsating slightly. “Ruined… Ruined…” The unicorn cries. Clyde takes a step back. “Miss?” The unicorn ceases to cry. The room falls eerily silent and still. Slowly, she raises her head to lock eyes with Clyde. Her face contorts to an image of pure rage as she screams, “RUINED!” With her scream, she drops the bundle to the floor with a loud thump. The bundle rolls to show a filly with her eyes open wide as her head falls unnaturally to one side, slapping against the hard floor. The filly’s mouth is open, her face frozen in terror, but no sound or breathing come from her. “Oh shi-” Clyde doesn’t wait to finish his words before charging from the room, his powerful legs driving him further and further. [Camera 3] Rivet is sitting at the desk in Doctor Chlorohoof’s office, more reverently than before. His posture is tired, but not as relaxed as before. Two files are sprawled on the table under the journal. “Okay…” Rivet takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes. “I am getting nowhere. A nurse who had a traumatic accident, we know this already. A severely disturbed patient is what I need to find. But where…” Rivet cracks his joints before returning to the task at hand. “November 7, The patient seems to be getting worse. Originally, I thought it would be helpful. It sounds cruel, but my thought was that if her mind associated the EST with seeing the foals, it would eventually cause her to stop seeing them. Even if that weren’t the case, the EST could treat whatever illness was causing the foals to appear in the first place. But the number she is subjected to-It’s unimaginable what she must be going through. I will need to have a talk with the nurse. However, with all the treatment, she is still not recovering from them. She awakes from the treatment and cries because the foals aren’t there. It is heartbreaking to see her so. In my mind, I feel that treatment should stop. She has little chance of recovery, and the foals she sees aren’t doing her any harm. Perhaps we should consider just keeping her as a permanent resident. Doctor Chlorohoof, MD.” “I wish he would leave years. That would help me find which bloody file to look for!” Rivet slams the book closed. “I’m overtired. The guys are going to hear about this tomorrow.” As he slammed it, a picture fell out from one of the files, and another got pushed off of the desk. Rivet groans as he picks up the folder, “Hello, crazy nurse number three.” He then bends down to pick up the picture that fluttered to the ground. “Who are you?” He turns the picture over. “Straight pink mane… Just like…” His eyes go wide. “Just like the mare Swift was-Where’s her file!?” Rivet shuffles the papers until he finds the correct file. “The room number is right. How could he dream of her? He’s never seen her.” Rivet seems to be working himself into a panic. He slides the picture into his saddlebag and stands up from the desk, grabbing the camera. [Timestamp: November 7, 10:53 PM] “Awful…” Swift stammers. “But since she’s in charge,” the mare shakes her head slowly, “no one dares to question her.” Swift takes a deep breath and holds up the picture. “What is this?” “Oh, that?” the mare cocks her head, “It’s a picture the nice Doctor told me to draw. He said I should make a picture of what I will be like when I get out of here.” “When… When you get out?” “Mhmm.” She nods. “That’s me, and my very own foal. And that must be you.” “M-me?” Swift almost chokes on the words. “Yeah. I always imagined an angel would come and take me away from here. That’s you, isn’t it? You’re my angel? And you’ve come to take me away?” “M-me?” Swift repeats. “You even have the wings of an angel. I said you would come, but the nurse told me no one would ever come for me.” “Which n-nurse?” “That nurse,” the mare spits, “the one who likes the machines in the basement!” “The one who makes dresses?” The mare cocks her head. “No. She’s a nice nurse. And she’s a really pretty singer.” “There’s another nurse?” “She doesn’t have a heart. She’s a monster.” “A… Monster?” Swift shivers slightly. Suddenly, a wind rips through the room, and a light buzzing noise accompanies it. The sound of static comes over the microphone, and hangs in the air even when the wind dies out. Swift seems to shiver, as the camera vibrates. A few puffs, like warm breath on a cold day, drift in front of the camera. Swift takes a deep breath and lets it out, creating another puff. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” A mare’s angry voice drifts through the static. Swift searches for a source, but finds none in the room. “My angel!” The mare with the straight mane shouts back. “How many times do I have to tell you!? There is no angel! No one will ever come for you! No one will ever love you!” “That’s not true! He’s right here!” The mare points at Swift. “It looks like you need another session.” The voice sighs. “But you have to take your medicine.” “No! Not another! Please!” “Listen, bitch. You don’t have a choice. I’m in charge here. Now move!” Her voice makes the room rumble. “No! He’s real! I swear! He’s right here!” “NOW!” A screeching fills the air as the mare screams. The wind begins to gust again. Like sand, the mare with the straight mane begins to be blown aside by the wind, slowly fading from view. Her scream still hangs heavy on the air as her image finally disappears. As the static fades from the audio, only Swift’s heavy breathing exists in the dark room. [Camera 1] Clyde’s panting can be heard. The camera is pointed at the tile floor, the infrared light reflecting brightly. Clyde stands still, apparently being content with the distance he ran from the morgue, or being too tired to go any further. “Please…” Clyde gasps. “Please tell me I’m not going insane.” The room is filled with the sound of hooves charging up the metal stairs. Clyde drops his camera and stands back, the view is inverted and aimed at the stairwell. He starts to take deep breaths and stands still. The door slams open as Rivet slides into the room, letting out a small yell, presumably when he sees Clyde. “Don’t do that!” Rivet shouts, “You almost gave me a heart attack!” Clyde coughs and speaks. “Rivet! Man, am I glad to see you!” Rivet cocks an eyebrow, “I’m happy to see you too.” He looks Clyde over for a moment. “Are you alright?” “I saw something down there,” Clyde huffs. “I saw something too, and I think Swift needs to see it.” Rivet picks up Clyde’s camera and helps Clyde to his feet. [Timestamp: November 7, 11:03 PM] “I am not…” Swift whispers, “I am not going insane.” Swift holds the camera aimed down at the pile of scattered papers on the tile floor. His breathing is normal now, but he doesn’t move from his spot. “Please. Someone tell me I’m not going insane.” “Swift!” Two voices call from outside of the room. The frantic sound of hooves running in the hall echoes into the room. He raises the camera to view the two ponies standing in the doorway. Rivet and Clyde are both panting, Clyde more than Rivet, and they look into the room with their eyes wide and worried. Rivet steps inside. “Swift. I found that girl you were talking about. She’s the patient Doctor Chlorohoof was talking about.” “So?” Swift grumbles. “Rivet, I…” “What?” Rivet takes a step forward. “I…” Swift fights to get the words out, “I saw her.” “In your dream?” Rivet’s face seems to drop. “Please tell me you mean in your dream.” “A few minutes ago.” Swift mutters. “In this room.” “Swift, that’s nuts.” Rivet nervously forces a chuckle, “Stop fooling around.” “He’s not nuts.” Clyde steps in behind Rivet. “I believe him.” “Why?” Rivet turns to him, and pauses for a moment. “Who… Did you see her too?” “Not her,” Clyde shakes his head, “The Dressmaker.” “The body in the basement?” “She wasn’t a body. She was moving, and… Crying.” “There’s something seriously wrong here.” Rivet states. “I think we should leave.” “Do you believe me?” Swift asks. “I-I-I’m not sure what to think.” Rivet shakes his head. “Maybe you’re both crazy, maybe I’m crazy, maybe there’s a gas leak, I don’t know! I’m too tired and scared to think. Let’s just get out of this hell-hole, and sleep outside tonight.” “I’d rather get as far away from here as possible.” Clyde states, “But we can’t travel in the dark. There’s no way to navigate.” “Please, let’s just go.” Swift begs, “I’m freaking out here.” The three of them nod and head back towards the waiting room. The traverse the tile halls in silence. It seems as if any noise would provoke another appearance, and they listen for the tell-tale signs. Rivet, though he has not seen anything, seems the most nervous of any of them. After they descend the stairway, they are once again in their camp, just as they had left it. “Let’s get our stuff together and get out.” Swift states. They all do as he said, gathering their sleeping bags and belongings together in their packs and throwing them on. As soon as the last pack landed on the last back, they made their way towards the doors of the waiting room, and through them into the foyer. Rivet leads the way as they head towards the exit doors. The doors themselves are steel, with a small porthole with wires running through it to make it shatter-proof. Rivet steps up and shoves on the crashbars with all of his might, but the doors do not budge. “What the hell!?” Rivet begins panting. “They won’t open!” Clyde steps up and shoves on the doors along side of Rivet, with the same result. “Shit.” Clyde hisses. “They’re stuck!” “Give me the keys.” Clyde turns to Rivet, who immediately begins to rifle through his bag for them. When his hoof emerges with the keys, Clyde pulls them out of his hoof immediately and begins to work at the crashbars. After several attempts, he gives up and tosses the keys back to Rivet. “It’s no use.” Clyde groans. “Looks like we’ll have to camp here tonight, and try again in the morning.” “We can’t stay here!” Swift shouts. “They haven’t done anything to us,” Rivet reasons, “Maybe we’ll be fine tonight. All they’ve done is scare us. Probably unintentionally. Swift, remember what you told us about Death Echoes?” “What about them?” Swift calms slightly. “You said,” Rivet pauses to think, “That they relive the moment of their death again and again, right?” “Yeah, so?” “What if that’s what these are doing? What if all it is is just an echo? They can’t hurt us if they’re just doing the same thing over and over.” “But she looked at me,” Swift replies, “and she talked to me. Death Echoes just do the same thing. She spoke to me. That nurse… She didn’t seem to notice me. She might be a Death Echo.” “The Dressmaker didn’t really look at me, so much as through me, I think.” Clyde recalls, “Maybe she’s one too.” “Does that make you guys feel a little better?” Rivet asks. Swift sighs. “Being able to give it a name helps.” “Good.” Rivet nods. “Then let’s set up. We’re sleeping here tonight.”
November 3[Timestamp: November 3 8:46 AM] “Check. Check. Check.” “What are you doing?” “Just testing out my new camera.” “Is it working?” “Audio is, but the video’s not coming in.” “Maybe if you took off the lens cap, it would work better.” “What? Oh!” Light floods the lens as it takes its time focusing and balancing. In front of the camera stands two stallions; one is a pegasus and the other is an earth pony. The pegasus is a beige colour, with a brown mane to match his eyes, with a cutie mark shaped like a pair of wings with a gear in the centre. The earth pony is a dark grey with a black mane and teal eyes, and a cutie mark shaped like a basketball with an eighth note accenting it. Both of them stand in a small room with wooden paneling on the walls, and a darker wood finish on the floor. “That’s better!” A voice from behind the camera states. “Alright. Check. Check. Looks good!” “Now that you’ve had fun with your new toy,” The pegasus smiles, “Mind helping us pack?” “Yeah, sure.” The camera is jostled. [Timestamp: November 3, 8:54 AM] A backpack full of clothing and camping supplies comes into focus while breathing can be heard behind the camera. The backpack rests on a small bed with plain sheets and blankets. The camera pans over to two other backpacks, the beige pegasus is still fitting everything into his, and the earth pony is just closing his own. The pegasus looks up. “Is that thing on?” “Yup,” The pony behind the camera replies. “Where did you even get that?” the earth pony adds, slinging his pack over his shoulders. “It was on sale, I thought it would be a good idea for the trip.” The view is turned as it can be assumed that the camerapony is checking the film. “Swift, it’s not really a nature walk.” The beige pegasus notes, shoving a hoof into his bag to pack everything down. “I know that.” The camerapony says, turning the camera right side up again. “This was my idea, remember?” “Yeah,” The grey earth pony nods, “But I’m more in it for the adventure, you made it sound cool.” “Why don’t you tell all those watching from home what it is we’re doing.” The pegasus grins, closing his bag up. The camera is turned around to face the holder, a blue pegasus with a black mane, who is smiling broadly. “Hello Equestria!” He grandly announces. “My name is Swift Justice.” He turns the camera on the other pegasus. “That’s my buddy Rivet.” “Hello.” Rivet waves. The camera pans over to the earth pony. “And that’s Clyde.” “‘Sup.” Clyde nods towards the camera. “Together!” Swift announces. “We are the Cutie Mark Crusaders!” “Shut up.” Rivet chuckles, swinging his pack over his shoulder. “Okay, so we definitely aren’t.” Swift turns the camera back on himself. “But we are going to do some pretty cool stuff.” “Don’t just hint at it, tell them!” Clyde calls. Swift looks up from the lens, “Alright!” He turns back to the camera. “So, we’re headed off to this old place down south of here. Supposedly, it’s like the place to be if you’re dead. There are ghost stories and legends out both ends of this place.” “Tell ‘em the spookiest bit!” Rivet calls, mock excitement mixed with real excitement in his voice. “Which part?” Swift turns the camera towards Rivet, who crosses his eyes and uses a hoof to make a ring around one ear. “Oh! Right.” Swift comes back into view, a serious expression on his face, his voice becoming low and serious. “This place… Was once… A loony bin.” “Sanitorium is more like it.” Rivet mutters. “It also sounds cooler.” Clyde steps up behind Swift on the frame. Rivet can be heard laughing. “You had one job!” [Timestamp: November 3, 12:52 AM] The shaking camera is turned back towards the face of Swift Justice, who caringly wipes off the lens and turns the machine towards a window. After a second of blurriness and bright light, the camera equalises and gentle greenery fills the frame. The camera zooms in and out, becoming blurry every time the tree line is closer or farther. The sound of chugging and a train whistle can be faintly heard. Occasionally, a bump jostles the camera, causing it to go out of focus and slowly come back in. “Are you having fun?” Clyde’s voice emanates from behind the camera. “How could I not be?” Swift replies, turning the camera on his friend. The inside of a train car comes into view. Both Clyde and the camera are on one bench, where Rivet is sitting on the other, reading a book. Clyde looks into the lens of the camera and then back up, most likely to Swift. “So, you want to explain why we’re here?” Swift asks from behind the camera. “Sure, why not.” Clyde shrugs. “Well, we heard there was a place down a ways from Ponyville where a lot of ponies think there are ghosts. Pretty simple story, right? This place is an old Sanitarium, a mental hospital, where they kept some of the worst cases. Like the really dangerous ones. History’s not my thing, but Rivet did the research. Anyway, we’re going there because Swift over here thought we should check this place out. It sounded like fun to me, so I volunteered to come along.” “Do you think there really are ghosts there?” A serious tone rests on Swifts voice. “Probably not.” Clyde shakes his head, causing his mane to flop over to one side. Fixing his mane, he continues. “But you never know.” The camera turns swiftly, bringing Rivet into view. “How about some history, Rivet?” Rivet looks up from his book, first at Swift, then at Clyde, then at the lens. “Sure. Why not.” Closing the book, Rivet grins slightly as he stares intently into the camera. “Well, years and years ago, before most of us were even born, there was this Mental Institution called Trotsburg’s Hospital For The Mentally Disturbed. It was maximum security, and most of the patients were kept separated for their own safety. Because of somepony’s stupid idea, some of the staff had to live on site, in case of emergencies. These were known as “Night Watch Staff”. Some of them thought they made a big difference, and liked their jobs. Most, though, hated their job, and especially hated treating the patients.” Rivet’s head shoots up as the train whistle blasts loudly. Turning back to the camera, he adds, “Looks like we’re at our stop.” [Timestamp: November 3, 1:23 PM] “-Off before you start filming!” “I’ve got it.” The voice of Swift soothes in the blackness before it is replaced with dazzling light. “There, happy?” The camera focuses as it is observed that the group is now in a small town. All of the buildings are slightly weathered, and there is a rustic tone about everything. Trees accent the skyline of the town as the camera is focused dead ahead of the group. “We only have so much film.” Rivet notes from the left side of the camera. “Shouldn’t we be saving it?” “It’s all good.” Swift turns the camera on it’s side to check the film. “I have a lot of tapes. I stocked up before we left.” The camera continues to bob up and down in time with the strides of Swift. The group nears the edge of town, as farmlands fill the view, and houses become smaller. “Hey. Look.” The camera turns to Clyde, who is pointing to a small wagon on the edge of a farm filled with various fruits, just down the road from them. There is a sign with prices on it, and a bucket for payment nailed onto the wooden trailer. Next to the wagon is an earth pony mare with a wide brimmed hat on her head. She wipes sweat from her brow as she waves over to the camera from the other side of the wagon. “I could use a snack about now. How ‘bout you guys?” “Eh, why not,” Rivet nods, following Clyde towards the stand. “Sure,” Swift agrees from behind the camera. The mare smiles when they come closer. “Howdy.” “Hi there.” Rivet replies, stepping over to the fence. “How are you?” “Ah’m good.” She nods, tipping her hat to the strangers. “I can tell y’all aren’t from around here. What brings you to town?” “We’re here to visit Trotsburg’s.” Rivet smiles, casually leaning against the wagon. As he is talking, Clyde is picking out a few good apples and pears. He rummages in his bag for his wallet and bits. The mare’s face become very serious. “Trostburg’s, huh?” Pulling her front hooves off of the cart and stepping back. “What do y’all wanna go there for?” Clyde finally fishes out the bits and drops the min the bucket, warranting a hat tip from the mare. “We heard about the legends, and we wanted to know if they were true.” Swift calls over from behind the camera. “Do you know anything about it?” “Most folks ‘round here would rather forget about it.” The mare states, shaking her head. “It’s not a nice place. Now I understand that you’re interested, but I think it would be best if you just let it be. I’ve heard all of the reasons for ponies going over there. You’re interested in history, want to have a cool vacation, some silly dare, fine. But this ain’t no playground. In my opinion, it’s like taking a trip to a graveyard. You can go, but don’t treat it like a fun park.” She looks around, most likely making eye contact with each of the group. An awkward silence follows her words. “Well…” Rivet nods slowly, coughs, and starts taking cautious steps in the direction they had been heading before. “Thanks for your concern, we’ll be safe and respectful.” “Good.” The mare spits on the ground. The road comes back into view as the cadence of walking shakes the camera as before. Without saying another word, the group moves down the road, hoofsteps on the dirty road are all that can be heard on the film. The voice of the mare echoes into the microphone. “Hey!” Turning the camera quickly, the machine is aimed back at the country mare behind the fence. She continues when she’s sure they are all listening. “Don’t sleep over in Trotsburg’s. Again, it is not a park. Nopony’s been in there for years, who knows what kind of wild animals have moved in.” “We’ll keep that in mind!” Clyde calls back over to her. “Thank you!” “Someone’s been into the hard cider,” Swift mutters into the microphone. Rivet chuckles lightly as they turn back to the road. Swift’s face fills the view as he stares into the lens, upside down as he fiddles for the stop button. “But it does make some good footage for-” [Timestamp: November 3, 4:12 PM] It is lightly raining through the trees that canvas the area. Greenery is abundant, and the light of the sun is hidden by a thin layer of clouds, and the brush that surrounds the three ponies. Rivet is seen laughing as he kicks a puddle at Clyde, and Swift chuckles behind the camera. Clyde pushes Rivet, who trips over a fallen log and rolls into a bigger puddle. “How’s that feel?” Clyde laughs as Rivet drags himself out of the water. Rivet coughs and sputters, “I’ve had worse.” Spitting out water, Rivet reaches a hoof. Clyde takes Rivet’s hoof in his and pulls him up. The camera rushes towards the both of them as Swift is heard chuckling to himself. One of Swift’s hooves comes into view as he pushes Clyde down into the puddle, dropping Rivet back in as well. At this, Swift erupts into all out laughter, pointing the camera directly at the two ponies in the puddle. They attempt to roll onto their hooves, water causing Clyde’s mane to wash into his face, and Rivet to continually slip, sending more water onto Clyde. All the while, Swift is laughing as the camera zooms in and out of the silly scene to catch the reactions of the soaked ponies. [Timestamp: November 3, 4:14 PM] Clyde fills the view, his mane dripping down the side of his face, as he looks into the lens with a mixture of joy and hate on his face. “Well, now that we’re good and wet, we might as well make camp for the night.” He hisses at the camera. Swift snickers from behind the lens. “You look… Hilarious.” Clyde shakes his head, causing his mane to spray water everywhere. “I think you mean ‘sexy’. Sexy is more the word.” “Oh!” Rivet runs in front of the camera. “Do you hear that, ladies? Clyde is available!” Swift passes the camera to Rivet, who takes it close to Clyde’s face. “Am not!” Clyde blurts out, smiling slightly. “Who’s the lady, then?” Swift calls from a distance. Clyde's mouth twitches slightly, a hint of giddiness in his voice. “None of your business.” Swift and Rivet begin in unison, “Ooh!” Then break out into laughter. “Shut up!” Clyde shakes his head, laughing at the immaturity of his friends. He swipes at the camera, his hoof covering up the lens. [Timestamp: November 3, 5:39 PM] Inside of a green tent, the camera is sat on the ground, Rivet, Swift and Clyde are laying out sleeping bags. Rivet is the first to get his laid out and picks up the camera, pointing it at the other two. Soon after, Swift and Clyde get their bags rolled out and lie down on them. “It’s cool, right?” Swift nods towards the lens. “Yeah.” Rivet nods with the camera. “Lemme see it?” Swift motions for Rivet to give him the camera. After a series of shaking and tapping, Rivet is back in view, and Swift continues. “So, since we’re gonna be here all evening, you wanna continue wowing the world with your knowledge of the crazy house?” “Sure.” Rivet lies down on the bag and turns to the camera. “Where was I?” “Night Watch hates patients.” Clyde answers from the other side of the tent. “Right!” Rivet nods, and pauses to think before continuing. “Well, there were supposedly these ‘doctors’ decided to get their sick kicks by experimenting on patients. They would claim legitimate reasons for doing what they did,” Rivet shakes his head, “but they weren’t.” “What would they do?” Swift asks. “Some pretty nasty stuff, from what I read.” Rivet sighs. “Icepick Lobotomies, Electric Shock Therapy, anything they could do to these ponies, they did.” “That is messed.” Clyde groans from the other side of the tent. “Icepick Lobotomies?” Swift asks. Rivet says nothing, but he pulls a stick off of the floor and imitates jamming it into his eye and twisting. “Oh, gross!” Swift coughs. Shrugging, Rivet replies, “Hey, I never said it was a nice place.” “Here,” The voice of Swift states, the camera changes hooves as Swift hands it off to Rivet. The camera turns to show Clyde lounging on his sleeping bag, and Swift is excitedly staring into the lens of the camera. “Now’s where my reading comes in handy.” Swift smiles at the camera, becoming very serious the next second. His voice drops low, and he talks in a serious tone. “I’ve heard that when the place was still open, there was this nurse on the Night Watch. She really hated the patients, and took every chance she could get to do a lot of nasty things to them. Her favourite form of torture was Electric Shock Therapy. Every night, she would pick a patient at random, she would strap them down, and turn the volts and amps up as high as she could, without killing them, that is. When she had had enough, she would turn it off, unhook them, and take them back to their room on a gurney. Patients reported, after the place was closed down, that she would go back and forth from the labs all night, taking patients with her. Legend has it that after the place was closed down, she locked herself in the hospital, where she hooked herself up to the EST machine and cranked it up. Since then, whenever anyone has gone over there for the night, they still see her roaming the halls, electrocuting patients.” “Now that’s creepy.” Clyde rolls to face the camera. “Want to know what I heard? There was once this old mare living in the woods, and she lost one of her rusty horseshoes. So every night, she goes through the woods in search of her rusty horseshoe.” “That’s a foal story!” Swift reaches over and shoves Clyde’s arm out from under him, dropping him to the ground, Clyde laughing at him. “And not even creepy.” “Where did you read that?” Rivet asks from behind the camera. Swift replies nonchalantly. “Equestria’s Best Ghost Stories.” “Figures.” Rivet states. “What?” Swift drags out the word in a whiny fashion. Rivet shakes his head, making the camera shake. “Nothing.” “What?” Swift repeats, smirking and using the same whiny voice. [Timestamp: November 3, 11:12 PM] Swift’s face takes up most of the shot, aiming the camera at himself. The shot is tinted a dark greenish colour. “Alright, well, that’s it for the first day, I’ll see you guys bright and early tomorrow morning. Trotsburg’s shouldn’t be too far away now, if Rivet is reading the map right.” “Put the camera down and go to sleep.” Clyde calls over. “If you’re tired in the morning, I don’t want to hear it, bro.”
November 4[Timestamp: November 4, 6:16 AM] “Is it on?” “I think so. I don’t see anything.” “Take the cap off, moron.” “Oh. There it is.” The lens adjusts to the image of the forest in the early morning. The sun has not even begun to peek through the trees, but there is enough ambient light to make night vision useless. The camera turns to the outside of the green tent, with Clyde standing just ahead of the camera. “Okay.” Clyde whispers. “So, you’ve seen how Swift gets all serious when he talks about ghosts. Well, I think he really believes those things. And that ‘foal story’ I told last night, was one that really used to get him when we were younger. I was better at telling it then.” He looks over at the tent, then back to the camera, smile growing on his face. “So, we’re gonna see just how much he believes those stories.” “This is gonna be great.” Rivet snickers behind the camera. “But are you sure it’s a good idea?” “If you get cold hooves, just remember,” Clyde states quietly, “He pushed us into that puddle yesterday without a second thought. ‘Kay?” Rivet holds back his laughter. “Yup. He deserves it.” The two of them move to opposite sides of the tent and stand perfectly still. Rivet clears his throat and moves his face close to the wall of the tent, presumably where Swift’s head would be if he was asleep. Rivet almost sounds like he’s about to throw up a hairball for a moment, but begins to form words. “Where’s mah rusty horseshoe…” Clyde snickers. Rivet does the same noise again, “Where’s mah rusty horseshoe…” A rustling sound comes from the tent. The voice of Swift worriedly asks, “What?” Rivet calls out loudly. “DO YOU HAVE MAH RUSTY HORSESHOE?” before he and Clyde begin ramming into the tent, shaking it from side to side, causing Swift to let out a high pitched squeal. At that sound, the other two burst out laughing. Pushing his way out of the tent, Swift scrambles to his hooves. “You guys are assholes!” “And you scream like a filly!” Clyde manages through laughing fits. “Turn that thing off!” Swift shouts, pointing at the camera. “Don’t act like it’s not hilarious!” Rivet calls back. Swift goes straight faced, as if he’s going to punch one or both of them. Then he cracks a smile and shakes his head, pointing back at the camera. “Shut it o-” [Timestamp: November 4, 10:32 AM] A new part of the forest comes into view as the camera is moving down a less beaten path. Tall grass and weeds cover the ground, and trees canvas the area, allowing little light through. “Alright.” The Voice of Swift comes into the microphone. “So, camp’s been cleaned up, we’ve had a good canned breakfast, and we’re back on the road to Trotsburg’s.” “How much longer is it?” Clyde groans at Rivet. “If I’m reading the map right,” Rivet pauses, “We should be there by night fall.” “Awesome!” Swift cheers into the camera. “We’ll be there at witching hour!” Rivet sighs. “Thanks for reminding me.” “I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts and stuff.” Swift turns the camera to Rivet, who is adjusting the pack on his back. “I don’t.” Rivet shakes his head dismissively. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t get spooked.” “You do!” Clyde laughs. “You do so believe in ghosts!” “It’s not that I do or don’t.” Rivet stops walking. “It’s that I’m not sure, you know? And that’s the weirdest part.” The group goes silent for a moment before the camera turns to Clyde, who begins laughing at Rivet. “Oh, come on!” Clyde continues laughing at Rivet. “Scared of ghosts? You’re just a little B-” [Timestamp: November 4, 3:14 PM] “Are we there yet?” “No.” [Timestamp: November 4, 3:23 PM] “Now?” “NO!” [Timestamp: November 4, 3:29 PM] “Rivet…” “Do you see it? I don’t! Stop asking!” [Timestamp: November 4, 5:22 PM] The forest is slightly tinted orange by the afternoon sun. There is still a mixture of clouds and trees dampening the light further. The camera is set on the ground, Rivet and Clyde are visible on screen, but only Swift’s hoof comes into the shot. “Okay, so do you want to share any more of those weird stories?” Clyde chuckles at Swift. Swift’s voice booms from above the camera. “Sure.” He adjusts his position. “Okay… There is this one story I heard. There was a mare who worked in the ward as a nurse. Her job was to take bodies to the morgue after incidents. Now, when she was younger, there was an accident with her and her sister. She had just made a dress for her sister, and her sister was wearing it during the accident. "After the accident, she was found next to the body whimpering “Ruined… Ruined” over and over again. No one is really sure why she took the job at the Institute, but when she got there, some weird stuff started happening. Clothes and blankets began disappearing from the morgue. These aren’t like good clothes, either. These are body coverings, bloody linens, disgusting. The legend goes that she was collecting them to remake the dress her sister was in during the accident, most think that that’s what she meant when she whimpered “ruined”. She was shallowly talking about the dress. Ponies were just objects to her. What mattered to her was her own creations. "I think the accident just drove her insane. "Either way, when the place closed down, some say she hid inside and continued to work away at the dress in the morgue, using whatever she could. Anything. And I mean anything. Supposedly, if you go in there, you can still hear her crying and repeating “Ruined… Ruined”. Others, though, have reported her… Singing. Just a work song. Some say it sounds like a siren song. Her voice drawing them in to the depths so she can kill them.” “That’s stupid.” Clyde shakes his head. “I thought he did a pretty good job of telling it.” Rivet defends. “Yeah, what’s wrong with it?” Swift asks. “Oh, I get it.” Rivet sighs. Clyde coughs and shifts uneasily. “What?” Swift asks. Rivet nods, “You’re with that seamstress chick back home, aren’t you?” Clyde changes a frustrated expression, keeping his head down. Rivet smirks, “It is!” “You sly dog!” Swift laughs. Nudging Clyde’s arm, Rivet adds, “What was her name again?” “Shut up.” Mutters Clyde. “Weird name for a mare.” Rivet coughs. Swift chuckles, “Maybe it’s a stallion.” He picks up the camera and points it directly at Clyde. “Buck off!” Clyde hisses. “I’ll kick both of your a-” “Whoa!” Shouts Swift, “You can’t say that on television.” “Buck that!” Clyde rages, throwing up his hooves. “I can say whatever the-” [Timestamp: November 4, 8:42 PM] The forest is mostly dark, the light of the sun is hardly visible now. The moon is likely high in the sky, as a bluish glow envelopes the area. The trees are thinning, and the moon freely shines down. A light fog or dust creates an eerie glow. Rivet and Clyde are just ahead of the camera, but, as the camera is mostly aimed at the ground, their hooves are the only visible part. “I think we made it.” Swift whispers into the microphone, almost reverently. At his words, the camera turns upward, revealing a tall stone building. The windows of the building are mostly shattered, the shadows within seem to almost ooze out of the building, like wounds. Plants like ivy have wound their way up the walls, creeping into the windows as if to pull it under the surface of the earth. Almost as if the very earth itself was trying to eradicate this place from it's face. Rivet takes a deep breath, “Gentlemen… Welcome to Trotsburg’s.” An eerie silence falls long on the group. “Well…” Clyde swallows. “What are we waiting for? It’s just an old building.” None of them move. “Come on.” Clyde begins walking over to the massive building. “Let’s go.” “Why don’t we just set up camp out here?” Swift asks, standing still. “It’s already dark.” Clyde notes. “And I’m tired. It would be easier to sleep inside.” “We said we wouldn’t.” Rivet reminds Clyde. Stopping, Clyde peers over to Swift. “Do you always keep promises to strangers?” Without another word, Rivet follows Clyde, but Swift stands his ground. After a moment, he too follows Clyde. Swift keeps the camera trained on the asylum, slowly but surely making his way into the cold, dark abyss. The image on the camera fades to black as they go into the building. “Well, at least I get to test this out.” Swift sighs. The sound of a button being clicked on the side of the camera. Suddenly, the image returns, only tinted a very light green colour, the room bathed in an odd glow. The image is sideways. “Try what out?” Rivet turns back to Swift. Swift turns the camera right side up. “Night vision.” “How does that work?” Clyde looks over, the infrared light reflecting off of his eyes. “I dunno.” Swift shrugs. “But it looks cool.” [Timestamp: November 4, 10:23 PM] The picture is still in the night vision style, but now it is in the middle of a room, Clyde laying on his sleeping bag, Rivet sitting quietly upon his, and Swift rolling his out. Clyde is closest to the camera, and Swift is furthest. “Any more stories you wanna share before we hit the sack?” Clyde calls over to Swift. “You know what?” Swift looks around, his ears not as perky as they have been before. “I think I’ll skip it for tonight. I’m wiped, and a little nervous about being in here.” “Afraid of ghosts?” Clyde makes and ‘ooh’ing sound. Swift just looks over at Clyde, as if to say “shut up”. “Fine, fine!” Clyde shakes his head and slides into the sleeping bag. “I guess we’ll get to looking around in the morning, eh?” Rivet looks at the other two. When they nod, he himself slides into hid bag. “Can you shut off the camera?” Swift asks Clyde. “It’s the red button on the side.” “Yeah.” Clyde rolls over to the camera and fiddles with it for a moment.
November 5[Timestamp: November 5, 2:43 AM] “What the hell, man?!” Clyde’s voice shouts, the screen black. Silence. “Seriously!” Clyde shouts again. “What the hell?!” Rivet groans. “What is it?” “Don’t act stupid, Rivet!” Clyde rustles the camera, probably searching for the night vision button. “I know you like your pranks, but seriously, grow up!” “What are you talking about?” Rivet yawns, his voice groggy. Swift coughs, yawing after. “What’s the matter?” “The stupid bucker over there licked my face!” Clyde shouts, still searching for the button. “It’s like, two in the bucking morning!” “I was asleep until you started screaming like a filly!” Rivet groans loudly. Swift cuts in, “Why would he lick your face?” “I don’t know!” Clyde finally gets the button and the screen is illuminated with the same image as the night before. Rivet and Swift are lying tiredly in their sleeping bags, while Clyde is panting madly. “He’s just a weird son of a-” “Stop!” Rivet shouts. “I didn’t lick you! Get over it. You were probably just dreaming.” “Then why is my face wet?” Clyde touches his face. “Ever hear of drooling?” Rivet growls. “I assume you do it a lot.” “It’s too early for this!” Swift hushes them, “You can kill each other later, okay?” “Fine.” Rivet grumbles and rolls over, turning away from the camera. “As long as he doesn’t lick me again.” Clyde hisses, laying back down. Swift points at the camera, “Why is the camera on?” “I was hoping it would catch whoever licked me.” Clyde sighs, “So I’ll check it later and find out.” [Timestamp: November 5, 8:54 AM] The run-down hall of a hospital is shown on screen. The hall is illuminated by the morning sun peering through the windows and doors lining the hallway. Tiles are chipped and shattered on both the floor and the ceiling, and the walls are scratched and cracked. Swift is no doubt behind the camera, with Rivet and Clyde out ahead of the lens. The camera turns to one of the rooms to the right, and the words ‘Psyche Ward B: 23 2nd Floor’ are scrolled on the door, just below the window. Through the window, a dingy room with only a bed visible can be seen as the camera zooms in. “This place is so weird.” Clyde whispers, almost to himself. “Where do you want to go?” Swift asks. Rivet looks towards the camera. “Well, I guess most of these rooms are the same around here… Except…” He cocks his head and walks towards a room he is staring at. “Except this one…” Swift follows Rivet into the room. “Holy…” Swift mutters. The room resembles a young filly’s or foal’s room. The walls were painted pink, but they have long since faded with time. A small bed with pink sheets lies in the corner, with a few stuffed animals set around it. In the corner sits a small chest with a lock and key on it The room would have been cute, had it not been in an asylum. “This is just…” Clyde stands in the doorway, taking a deep breath. “Sorry.” He steps out of the room. “Let’s just keep going,” Rivet says, walking past Swift. “Sure,” Swift agrees, following closely after Rivet. [Timestamp: November 5, 11:23 AM] “Give me a hoof with this door,” Rivet calls back to Clyde. The group is in a small hallway with hardly any light. There is enough spilling down from a stairwell behind them to not need the night vision, but it can be assumed that they are now in the basement level of the hospital. Tiles on the floor and ceiling are cracked and scratched as they had been on the second floor. A small metal table sat off to one side of the hall, against the off-white wall. Rivet can be seen struggling to push open a large metal door. Years of being in a cold, dark and potentially damp environment wreaked havoc on the door, rusting it slightly, and seizing it in place. Clyde scuttles over to the door and begins assisting his friend with the difficult task. With a few grunts and shoves, the door squeels like nails on a chalkboard, causing everypony to wince as the door scrapes along the floor, opening a whole new world of adventure. “Loud enough?” Swift asks from behind the camera. “Not nearly,” Rivet hisses. The three ponies travel down the hall and into the new area, Clyde reaching up instinctively and flipping a light switch. Of course, the lights do not turn on, but the hallway is slightly lit by the light coming through the small windows in the doors. Swift moves the camera to a door to investigate where the light is coming from, and aims it through a door. There are small window wells near where the walls meet the ceiling of the room, allowing the mid-day sun to shine in. “Who do you think they kept down here?” Swift asks, zooming in and out of the room, causing the focus to blur for a moment. “Probably the sane ones,” Rivet states sarcastically, “Just more of the same from upstairs.” “What’s that down there?” Clyde looks back at Rivet. “Can you make out the sign from here?” “Wait,” Swift states, “I got this.” He hits the zoom button on the camera and turns to the door at the far end of the hallway. A small brass door plaque is bolted to the door just under the window. After a moment of blurriness, the camera stabilizes to show the words “Dr. Chlorohoof, Chief of Medicine” on the plaque. “It says Doctor Chlorohoof, Chief of Medicine,” Swift reads aloud. “I guess that’s his office down there.” “Maybe it has old patient files,” Rivet notes excitedly, walking towards the office. “We could learn some of the history, maybe connect it to some of those myths and legends.” “We won’t know unless we give it a look,” Clyde shrugs, following after Rivet. Swift hurries behind them. “I’m in.” Unlike the previous door, this one opens with ease as the group quietly slips into the office. The office itself is rather neatly arranged, a large oak desk on the opposite wall, a comfortable chair behind it, and old diplomas and certificates on the walls behind. The floor, however, is littered with boxes filled with papers and files. To the right of the desk is a locked filing cabinet, with a few items that would have had meaning to whomsoever had resided within the office. “Jackpot.” Rivet whispers, surveying all of the files on the ground. “Why would they just be left here?” Swift asks, pointing the camera down at the piles of files. “I guess we’ll just have to find out.” Rivet replies, sitting down at the desk and opening a drawer. “You sure you should be doing that?” Clyde asks uneasily. Rivet closes the drawer, “If we want to know what happened here, we have to read.” “I guess.” Clyde nods slightly. “But isn’t there confidentiality?” “It’s not our fault they were left here. They have to have been left here for a reason,” Rivet frowns. “I don’t want to sound rude or heartless, but everyone who was here would be dead by now, so these are historic records. Besides, this is an investigation. We won’t release names or anything, so we should be fine.” “Are you sure?” “I read into the laws concerning historic documents before we came,” Rivet explains. “So long as the concerned ponies are deceased, and names are not released without the consent of the surviving family, should one exist, anything we do aside from destroying them is completely fine.” He pulls the drawer back open. “Hello.” He states, reaching into the drawer and pulling out a ring of keys. “They’re even labeled!” “What are they for?” Swift asks. “I assume they’re for the patient’s rooms.” Rivet looks the keys over. “Except…” He tugs at one that is longer than the rest. “This one… It’s tag says “Records”, but aren’t these…” Rivet reached down into a box and pulls up a file. “This is just a visitor log.” He looks at Clyde, “What’s in that one?” Clyde pulls up a file from the box closest to him, “Inventory.” Swift turns the camera towards a box nearest to him and pulls out a file. “Time sheets for the employees.” “Drat!” Rivet drops the file on the desk. “We have to find that records’ room.” He pulls open the main drawer and peeks inside. “Hey, what’s this?” Reaching in, Rivet pauses before pulling out an old, beat up, leather bound book. “It’s a journal… Hey, it’s the Doc’s journal!” “That’s not something you just leave lying around.” Clyde points out. “I’ll look into it later.” Rivet notes, looking over the old book and sliding it into his saddle bag. “That’s something, alright.” [Timestamp: November 5, 2:48 PM] The camera is turned on and the screen is filled with Swift’s face. “So, it’s been about three or four hours, and we haven’t had any luck finding the records’ room. We’ve decided to stop for lunch.” “Hey, I have an idea.” The camera turns to Clyde who is munching on a small piece of fruit. “Why doesn’t Rivet give us an introduction into that book he picked up in the office?” “Sure.” Rivet pulls open his saddle bag and takes out the leather bound book. Flipping to the first page, he clears his throat and begins, “Property of Doctor Chlorohoof, Medical Doctor, Head Physician of Trotsburg’s Institute.” He looks up at the camera for a moment and turns the page. “Ahem… September 22, First Day at Trotsburg’s. Today, I completed my transfer to the Institution. As a welcoming gift, one of the nurses left me this journal, how kind of her. As this is a brand new institute, more than half of the staff are fresh out of medical school, and the rest have been doing this for years. I myself am a member of the latter group. Before this, I was just another doctor at a mental hospital, but now I am head of something entirely new. I am unsure of what challenges this new role will provide me with, but with a little help from the staff, I am sure we will be able to make this hospital great! Dr. Chlorohoof, MD” “Seems innocent enough to me.” Clyde notes as Rivet skims the page over with his eyes. “Yeah,” Swift nods, “It kind of takes the edge off of this place, knowing that there was a caring group of ponies here. How about another?” He asks excitedly. Rivet turns the page. “September 25. Today, the first patients were admitted to the institute. As this is a maximum security facility, I expected them to be difficult patients. However, they seem to have rather mild cases of their respective mental disorders. Perhaps this is a trial period for the hospital. The board must want to see whether or not we can handle mild cases before sending any of the difficult ones our way. Regardless, I hope we can make a good impression, and show the board that we can in fact handle these cases. Dr. Chlorohoof, MD.” The room goes silent. “Hey, are there any entries for today?” Clyde asks, finishing what he was eating and disposing of the core. “Let me check…” Rivet turns the pages a few times before stopping on a page. “Here!” “November 5. We received our first big case today. For her sake, I will leave her name out of this entry. She is a very quiet girl most of the time, but she has been diagnosed with a severe case of Schizophrenia. Her mind is like a switch; one moment, she is calm and quiet, the next, she is in a corner screaming and crying in her room. It truly is a heartbreaking scene. In light of her condition, and of those like her in this hospital, I have introduced a stronger night shift, moving some of the day shift workers to nights only, where their skills are most needed. Some of them see it as a great chance, others not so much. I have begun calling this shift ‘Night Watch’, because they are there to ensure that any and all outbreaks and outbursts are handled quickly and discretely. The head nurse was one of the angry ones. For some reason, she really does not like working here, but it is her field of choice. I can’t say I blame her for being unhappy, it is not a happy place here, especially at night. However, I do stay here myself at night, so I hope it will show them how necessary their work is. Dr. Chlorohoof, MD.” [Timestamp: November 5, 6:33 PM] Swift sighs. The camera shows a simple room. Concrete walls, a bed in one corner with a trunk at the foot of it, and a mirror on the wall are all that would have been in the room for years. But these are not what Swift is in awe of. “One of these things is not like the others.” Clyde states. In the middle of the room is a simple black bag. Rivets hooves are within the bag, searching through it’s contents. Already, he has pulled out a camera, and several tapes. Moments later, he pulls out a second camera, and then a third. When the bag seems empty, he turns it over, and looks up at the camera. “Jackpot.” He smiles. “Are there any names?” Swift asks. Rivet looks the cameras over, “No names, just tags; Camera 1, Camera 2, Camera 3.” “Why would someone just leave their equipment?” Swift lays his camera down on the ground to inspect the others. “Well, here’s one reason.” Clyde picks up a camera. “The lens on this one is smashed, like somepony took a hammer to it.” “This one’s just a little crack.” Rivet looks his camera over. “This one’s fine.” Swift flicks a button on the camera. “And the batteries are still good.” Clyde puts the camera back down, “What are they doing here?” Swift speaks up excitedly, “Maybe they were left here by another team! Another group of guys like us. We could find out what they discovered!” “Only one way to find out,” Rivet notes, “We’ll have to watch them.” “Good luck with that.” Clyde picks up a tape. “Let me see that.” Swift takes the tape from Clyde. “Let’s toss it into one of the cameras and see what happens.” He slides the tape into one of the cameras. “It’s just static.” Rivet notes, looking down at the camera. “Try the others.” Rivet and Swift go through the process of playing each of the tapes, each one coming out with static. “You can sort of make out a picture, but it’s so distorted.” Swift shakes his head sadly. Rivet looks over one of the tapes, “It’s almost like someone ran a magnet over it.” “Magnet?” Swift looks up nervously, but slightly excited. “Ghosts have been known to let off Electromagnetic fields!” “So have magnets.” Clyde groans. “Maybe these guys just wanted to cover their tracks. Maybe they threw a party here, and did something illegal. Wiping the tapes and busting the cameras might have been the only way to do it. Whatever the reason was, they sure did it in a hurry.” “What makes you so sure?” “Only two of the cameras were whacked, the other one is fine. And they just left it here. Why not try to throw it in a river, or at least in the trash.” “They also left their sleeping bags.” Rivet mentions. “Where!?” Swift asks excitedly, “I didn’t see them.” “Room on the left, I saw in the window while we were walking by. I thought it was just cloth or bedding left over, but I think they were sleeping bags.” Swift runs to his camera and takes it out into the hall. The image is blurry, as Swift is moving in quick motions. He quickly finds the room Rivet was talking about, and opens the door. Sure enough, there are four sleeping bags laid out on the floor. All of them were hastily exited, or just left after the ponies had woken up. Surprisingly, that was all that was in the room. Aside from the usual things in the room, the four sleeping bags were the only thing different about this room. “Spooky…” Swift whispers. “Do you think we could use these?” Clyde calls over from the other room. “I can’t see why not!” Swift calls back. “It’s not like they need or want them anymore. I’ll get you some tapes in a moment.” [Camera 1] “Is it working?” The voice of Clyde asks from behind the camera. The scene is back in the room where they found the bag, facing the door. Swift is standing in front of it. “The light is on.” Swift nods. “Look at the screen, does it say REC?” “Yes.” “Then it’s working.” [Camera 3] “Whoa!” Rivet’s voice comes from behind the camera. The shot is another angle of the room, with Clyde and Swift in the frame. A large crack reaches across the screen from the bottom left to a quarter of the way up the right side. “It works, but the crack is annoying!” “It works, though?” Clyde asks. “Yeah. Just fine.” “Then you’ll be… Camera 3?” “Yeah. Camera 3.” [Timestamp: November 5, 10:34 PM] “So, it’s a little late, but we just want to get some more work done before we turn in.” Swift looks into the lens, the room barely lit by the light of the distant sun. “Rivet and Clyde are going out to try to find the records’ room one more time. I’m more interested in the foal’s room. I want to see what I can find.” Swift turns the camera around to show the foal’s room, eerily bathed in green light. No light comes through the window on the other side of the room. It’s a small window, but close enough to the ground to provide scenery during the day to whoever would occupy the room. The childlike atmosphere is more sinister and horrible than it should be. Swift moves over to the chest in the corner of the room. A key sits in the lock on the front of it. Silently, Swift lays his camera on the floor and sits down in front of the box. He turns the keys, creating a small click. Pushing the box open, Swift looks down into the little chest. “Oh my Celestia.” Reaching in, Swift pulls out a small stack of papers. He grabs the camera and turns it to the page he is holding. The paper has a hoof-painting on it. The picture seems to be of a pink mare with a black circle above. A very clear frown is on the face of the mare. After holding on the picture for a moment, Swift takes it off of the top and places it on the floor to reveal the next one. This one is the same pink, frowning mare, but this time she is next to a big tree. Under the tree is a small blue blob of paint. “What are these?” Swift mutters to himself. “Whose are these?” [Camera 1] “Any luck in there?” Clyde asks from behind the camera. On screen is Doctor Chlorohoof’s office, with Rivet sitting behind the desk. Rivet is digging through the drawers. “No maps in here,” Rivet sighs, shaking his head. “We’re still no closer to finding the records’ room.” “Maybe there’s something in the journal.” “Maybe…” Rivet reaches into his bag and pulls out the journal. Quickly leafing through it, a small piece of paper drops out of it. “Hello…” He reaches down and picks the page back up. Unfolding it twice, he looks down and smiles. “Clyde. You’re a genius.” “I know I am.” “I know exactly where we need to go now.” “Where?” “Down the hall from here. The door at the bottom of the stairwell leads to another stairwell. Remember? We thought it was a broom closet. It leads to another floor. Another basement.” “What’s all down there?” Rivet takes a moment to look over the map again, his face dropping to a slight frown. “Other than records… Nothing good.” “What do you mean?” “It’s the ‘therapy’ rooms. Where they did the Lobotomies, Electric Shocks, stuff like that… The Morgue...” “Buck me… What are we waiting for? Let’s go.” “Aren’t you scared?” Rivet asks, a smirk crossing his face, feigning courage. “There’s nopony here, what’s to be scared of?” “Yeah… Yeah! Let’s go!” The two of them exit the office and begin the walk back to the other end of the hallway. When they arrive, the door is locked. Rivet fishes out the keys from his saddlebag and opens the door quickly. “Cool.” Rivet smirks. The two enter the stairwell and begin the slow descent into the darkness below. Only the sound of light breathing and hooves on metal stairs can be heard for the descent. When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Rivet works to get the door open, allowing Clyde and the camera through. “Where’s the room?” Clyde asks, turning the camera to each of the doors he passes. Each of them are solid metal doors, with no port hole. Only room numbers and locks exist on the doors, as well as several scrapes and scratches. Some of them look like hooves. “The number on here is…” Rivet looks back down at the map and gets his bearings. “B2-05” “There!” Clyde points a hoof to a door just across and down the hall from them. It looks like all of the rest, but sure as day the code, B2-05, is on the door in white letters. “Ladies first.” Rivet laughs nervously. “Wuss.” “Hey, it’s dark.” “I thought you weren’t scared.” “I’m not.” “Then you go first.” “Why don’t you?” “Because I have the camera, it looks better if someone goes in before me.” Rivet groans, “Fine.” Using the keys and pushing open the door, Rivet steps into the room. The camera takes a moment to adjust to the new area. As it focuses in the dark, a room full of cabinets comes into view. The room itself is not very large, but the space is used wisely. Cabinets are arranged in rows, much like bookshelves, with space for a pony in between. All of the cabinets are closed. “I think we found it,” Clyde states. Rivet looks around in awe, “Where do we even start?” “Is there any information in the book?” “I’ll have to give it a look.” Rivet pulls open his saddlebag and tugs out the journal. [Timestamp: November 5, 11:52 PM] Back in the foal’s room, Swift is still looking through the pictures in the chest, night vision now turned on. The chest is nearly empty, only one picture now remains, the rest are set on the floor next to the old box. He pulls out the last hoof painting of the pink mare, but this time she is with a stallion and holding what looks like a foal. A sun is painted in the top corner, and the mare is smiling in this one. A chattering noise can be heard, almost like an animal chewing on bark. The sound rises like a wave, Swift’s head darting around quickly, attempting to find the source of the noise. It almost sounds like wind is mixing with the chattering, in a noise that can only be described as laugh-like. But like a wave the noise soon dies away, and Swift is left silently alone in the room. He is panting now, his chest making his heart beat apparent. “Just leaves and wind.” Swift assures himself. As his breaths begin to slow back to a normal rate, Swift returns his attention to the picture in his hooves. He places a hoof and tenderly touches the pink mare in the picture. Like a trigger, the chattering laughter noise refills the room, Swift begins to shake as he looks for the source again. For the rapid movement of his head, it can be determined that the noise is widespread and from multiple sources. “Rivet? Clyde?” Swift calls out as the chattering begins to die away. “Is that you guys?” Silence follows his words. “Guys!” More silence. “This isn’t funny guys, come on out.” The room is dead silent. “Okay! You had your laugh! I’m scared now, okay? Is that what you needed to hear?” He looks down at the picture again. “As if the pictures weren’t creepy enough…” Suddenly, a strong gust of air rips through the room for just a moment. Swift shakes silently as it dies down and his shaking increases when a voice seems to whisper on the wind. “Don’t you like them?” [Timestamp: November 6, 12:00 AM]
November 6: 1 [Timestamp: November 6, 12:00 AM] “Don’t you like them?” “Who’s there?” Swift barely whispers, fear taking a firm grasp on his throat. The room is dead silent, as before. “Clyde! Rivet! Come on out!” Swift coughs. The room seems to hiss like a gas leak, the chattering noise of laughter filling it once again. “Don’t you like them?” “Who is…” Swift trails off, not finishing his thought. “I worked really hard on them.” Swift’s chest is heaving as he looks around to room, eyes wide. “Please tell me you like them.” Swift slams two shaking hooves on either side of his head in an effort to drown out the feminine voice drifting on the air and the accompanying chattering. “Please?” Swift clenches his teeth, his eyes filled with frenzy and fear. “Don’t you like them?” “SHUT UP!” Swift screams, slamming both hooves on the ground and knocking the stack of pictures away from himself. “JUST SHUT UP!” The laughter fades from the air as Swift’s lip trembles and he shakily gets to his hooves. Grabbing the camera, he charges out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Swift quickly makes his way back to the camp they set up in the waiting room of the hospital. As he descends the stairs he barely holds back, his breath trembling and whimpering. He nears the last step and trips, sending him to the ground below. The new fright and the old seem almost too much for him. Swift sits on the floor, the camera has fallen a few inches away from him, upside down. He puts a hoof over his eyes as he continues to shake. “What the hell was that?” [Camera 1] “Well, we found some cool stuff, and we’ll definitely come back down here in the morning.” Clyde states from behind the camera. “I wonder what Swift is up to.” Rivet looks back at the lens. “I hope he hasn’t done anything stupid.” “I’m sure he’s fine.” “Maybe he’s already asleep. We can ask him in the morning.” “It’s already morning… Boy, I’m tired…” “Let’s just get upstairs and get some rest.” “I’m good with that.” [Timestamp: November 6, 9:46 AM] “Hey, Swift,” Rivet begins, the camera sitting on the floor across from him, Swift behind it. “You haven’t eaten much this morning, you feeling alright?” They are back in their camp site, it is morning, and the sun is shining through the windows, lighting up the group having breakfast. “Hm?” Swift asks, “Yeah… I’m fine.” “You don’t sound it.” “I’m just tired is all.” “Did you find anything last night?” Clyde asks, sitting to one side of Rivet, enjoying something from a can. “Not really…” Swift slowly shakes his head, swallowing uneasily. “Some hoof paintings, that’s all.” “Hoof paintings?” Rivet cocks an eyebrow. “Like, a foal’s hoof painting?” “No.” Swift shakes his head again. “Like… I’m thinking a filly drew them. Like, one our age.” “That’s creepy.” Clyde notes. Swift just nods again. “How about you guys?” “We found the files room!” Rivet smiles. “It’s in the second basement, with all the spooky stuff. I’ll be honest… I was a little scared to go down there… But we found it!” “Anything interesting?” “Yeah, actually.” Clyde replies. “We found a couple of files related to the journal.” Rivet nods, “Yeah, we even found out about some of those legends you were talking about!” “Which ones?” “Remember the Dressmaker?” Rivet half grins, “We found a mare matching her description in the payroll, and in the journal.” “So, there’s a chance?” Swift asks, a little more excited. “We also found some really weird patient files.” Clyde notes, “Remember the one with all the shocks?” “Yeah…” Rivet sighs. “There was one file we found… It had at least ten EST treatments in one week.” “Ten?” Swift coughs, “That’s insane!” Rivet lifts a hoof to his chin, “The weirdest part is, they were all signed by the same doctor, or nurse, we couldn’t tell.” “Why not?” “It was written by a medical professional.” Clyde states seriously before cracking a smile and waving his hooves in the air. “It always looks like they’re flailing around while they write!” The group shares a chuckle, before Swift becomes serious. “Did you find anything out about the foal’s room?” “Not really, but it shouldn’t be too hard.” Rivet shrugs. “The room is organized by the patient’s room number, so if you can get me that, I can find the file.” “I still want to know about the Dressmaker Legend.” Clyde pipes in. “We can look that one up next!” Rivet smiles. “I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.” “There are no ghosts,” Rivet shakes his head, “This is just spooky history.” “I guess we’ll have to cover our bases ourselves if we want the most out of this trip.” Clyde states. “Maybe we should stick together.” Swift notes. Clyde laughs, “Were you scared last night?” Swift immediately hisses, “No!” “It’s fine if you were.” Rivet raises his hooves defensively. “I wasn’t scared.” Swift shakes his head. “But after it gets dark, your mind starts playing tricks on you.” “Well, if you really want us to stay together after it gets dark, we can.” Rivet nods, “Okay?” “Sure,” Swift agrees. “No harm,” Rivet smiles, “No foul.” [Timestamp: November 6, 1:42 PM] The camera focuses to show the similar second basement scene, now lighted by the midday sun drifting out from the stairwell. The intimidating metal doors look more eerie in the low light than in night vision. “The rooms probably don’t have lights that still in them.” Rivet notes, looking down at the map. “Or any windows this deep down.” “Good thing I came prepared.” Swift replies. The sound of rummaging in a saddlebag can be heard from behind the camera, and a flashlight is produced and given to each of the other two stallions. Clyde groans, “You couldn’t have given those to us last night?” “I didn’t think we’d be out as late as we were.” “Where do we go first?” Rivet asks, shining some light on the various doors. “Name something morbid.” “Electric shock seems to be a common theme here,” Clyde looks into the lens with fake enthusiasm, “Why not start there?” Rivet’s flashlight illuminates a door to their left. “There’s one.” “Why not.” Swift groans. “Hey!” Rivet looks back, “This was your idea for a trip, remember?” “Yeah, yeah…” Rivet pulls the keys out of his saddlebag and fights with the door for a moment before pushing the squealing door inwards. The room within is dark, just as suspected. Inside, there is a surgical table in the centre of the room, and a booth with a large glass window in the corner. A light dangles from the ceiling above the table, and a massive machine sits behind the table. In the booth, a series of switchboards can be seen. “That’s just creepy.” Rivet shakes his head. He directs the camera to take a closer look at the table. On the table, there are a number of leather straps for all four hooves, as well as the torso and head. A metal ring with several wires leading to it rests on the end of the table. Swift zooms in on the equipment, “Is that the…” Rivet nods, “Yeah…” “Why are we down here?” Clyde asks, looking around. “Hold on…” Rivet pauses, and then reaches back into his saddlebag. “I think there was something about…” He fishes out the journal and flips through it. “Yeah.” “What?” Swift asks. “May 12, I have been noticing a great deal of log entries being made into the therapy rooms in the basement. All of them during Night Watch shifts. I would enquire as to why these are happening so frequently, but I have more pressing matters at the moment. Besides, the number of violent outbursts at night has decreased substantially since the increased logs. I can’t say I like the method, Electric Shock Therapy has never been my favourite treatment, but I cannot argue with the results. However, since the beginning of these events, my patient has been extremely on edge about talking to me about her hallucinations. I may have to have a word with the Night staff about this. I am worried that EST may not be a feasible treatment for her, and I would hate to see anything happen to her. Doctor Chlorohoof, MD.” Swift mutters, “So…” “Someone was torturing patients.” Clyde decides. “So they wouldn’t cause trouble at night.” Rivet finished, “Or at least if they did, they would keep it to themselves this way.” “That’s awful.” Swift whispers. “It was science at the time.” Rivet cocks his head. “That’s what they thought worked.” Swift shakes his head. “Even if it worked…” Rivet lays a hoof on the table, running it up and down the metal. He looks sternly at it and rubs it again. “There are scratches on it.” “Why wouldn’t there be?” Clyde scowls. [Camera 1] Rivet is seen sitting at the desk in Doctor Chlorohoof’s office, three files sit opened on the desk before him. His snout is angled directly into the journal of Doctor Chlorohoof, and his eyes continually jump from the book to the files. He sits with his back in the chair, and his back legs crossed on the desk. “Here’s an interesting bit…” Rivet looks up at the camera sitting on the desk, giving it a firm vantage point for the scene. “November 30 My patient seems to be improving. Every day, I like to come into her room and ask her questions about her family, which she is always very happy to talk about. Sometimes I give her paint when I’m there, and ask her to draw what she looks forward to when she leaves the institute. Most times, she just draws herself alone, and very sad. But today, incredibly, she drew herself smiling, with a stallion and a colt of her own. Now, normally, we attempt to keep her from discussing or drawing foals, but I felt she deserved this one chance to express herself without scrutiny. Doctor Chlorohoof, MD.” “And then… Later…” Rivet turns the pages to find another entry. “The Head Nurse of Night Watch is continually logging my patient into the EST rooms for sessions. I understand she can have violent outbursts at night. But in my experience, it has only been when somepony or something has upset her. For instance, when one of my psychiatric staff was doing an interview, they mentioned that the foals she sees are all in her head. When he told her that, she practically clawed his eyes out. She acted as if he had tried to kill her child. When talking with her, one needs to be mindful of her mental state concerning the foals she sees. They are never to be dismissed. She will defend the foals she sees with her life, or yours. Doctor Chlorohoof, MD.” “So, obviously something happened to her. Something to do with a foal, or several, that pushed her mind past the breaking point.” Rivet notes. “I’ve been reading her file, and the file of the Nurse the doctor is speaking of, and I have yet to find a cause for the foals, or for the nurse to hate the patient. I’ll need to keep looking…” [Camera 3] The secondary basement of the hospital is dimly lit by the beam of a small flashlight. The hall still seems as dismal and monochrome as before, even though it is in colour instead of night vision. Looking around the hall, a voice comes from behind the camera. “B2-03…” Clyde notes to himself, again and again. “B2… 03…” Finally, the camera comes to a halt on a door with the stated indicator number. Clyde pushes the door open to show a concrete room, much like the rest. However, instead of a bed in the corner or therapy equipment, there are two steel autopsy tables and several locked cooler doors on the walls. “The morgue.” Clyde whispers, “Just like in the legend.” Clyde walks slowly over to the furthest cooler door. After hesitating for a moment, he turns the handle firmly and hauls back on the door, opening the cabinet and pulling the tray out with it. Clyde lets out a deep sigh as turns out to be empty, only a metal tray protruding from the wall. The camera is turned to peer into the dark hole in the wall before Clyde closes up the cabinet. “Okay…” Clyde turns the camera around to show the whole room. “So, you heard most of the story from Swift. Despite what he thinks, I do pay attention. That’s not the first time I’ve heard the story. I remember a part of the story-part he didn’t tell last time. The dressmaker made dresses out of dead patients’ clothes, but another legend stays she made them out of the patients themselves… And another says she locked herself in the morgue when the place closed down. Which could only mean that she’s still here.” Clyde pauses to look around the room, pausing on the cooler doors. “I mean, it also says she wanders the hall in search of more dead patients to finish her dress. But that’s garbage too.” Clyde lets the room go silent and fiddles with the camera. [November 6, 3:29 PM] Swift is sitting by the box in the foal’s room again. The light of the midday sun casting short shadows on the room. The camera is laid on the floor, showing Swift staring intently at the box. Without a word, he leans in closer to the box with a frown on his face. Taking a deep breath, Swift pushed open the lid and peered down at the hoof paintings from before. “Well…” Swift sighs, “Might as well get it over with.” He reaches down and hesitantly pulls up the painting on top. Looking around, he lets out a sigh of relief when no noises come into the room. “I must have been overtired last night.” Swift decides. “I was just hearing things.” He drops the pictures back into the box and breathes deeply. [Camera 3] Clyde stares intently into the lens of the camera. “Alright. I’m opening all of them up.” He turns the camera and lays it on the previously opened cabinet, giving it full view of the others. Standing cautiously over the next door, Clyde takes a deep breath before gripping it firmly and ripping the door open. Clyde sighs, “Empty.” Moving to the next door, he repeats the process, the entire room echoing with the squealing of rusted metal on metal as the crude door is pulled from the wall for the first time in decades. “Empty.” Again, he pulls another door open, now there is only one door that has not been opened. The one farthest from the door, and farthest from the camera. Clyde trots back to the camera to give it a better angle from one of the tables. Taking one final, deep breath, Clyde grips the handle and tears on the door, creating the same horrid shriek. However, this time, the door catches on something, causing Clyde to stumble and almost fall to the floor. Standing back up, Clyde composes himself before tugging again, this time, adding a disgusting cracking noise to the shriek as the door is freed from whatever held it in place before racing outwards. The sudden burst causes Clyde to fall, tripping into the table the camera is stationed on and knocking it to the floor with him. Clyde checks himself over for injury before standing back up with a cough. When he finally gets back up, the camera only shows his hooves, but it is seen that Clyde turns back to the now opened cabinet. “What in the…” He scrambles to pick up the camera, his hoofs shaking slightly, making it apparent something has caused his pulse to race. The camera loses focus, but a large, off-white mass is visible on the table protruding from the wall. Clyde’s heavy breaths are all that can be heard as the camera struggles back into focus, as if even it does not want to see what is on the table. The mass takes shape, the outline of an equine body is apparent, nearly bleached white. Its face is contorted into a sinister and maniacal smile, even in death. It is the skeleton of a unicorn. It is laid out like an anatomical diagram, yet the head is jostled, and the forelegs cross the chest. Eyes, skin and muscle have abandoned their host, only her bright, ivory bones and long hair remain. The horn of the unicorn is normally the most well kept part of the unicorn’s body. But on this one, the horn has been broken into pieces, apparently what had been jamming the door. Perhaps the most sinister thing about the body of the mare, not her smile, her perfect positioning, or her decaying body, but the cloth she grasps tightly in her lifeless hooves. Scraps sewn together with precision and care. A dress.
November 6: 2 [Timestamp: November 6, 6:13 PM] “Any cool finds?” Rivet looks at the camera. He is seen sitting in the waiting room, munching away at a small snack with the journal held tightly to his side by his other hoof. “Other than those creepy pictures, I didn’t do a whole lot of looking. Have you seen Clyde?” “No. Haven’t you?” Rivet asks, cocking his head and taking another bite of his snack. “Last I checked,” he swallows, “He was headed down to the second basement with the map. He said something about the Dressmaker legend.” “Think he found something?” “I dunno.” “Did you?” “I found some history on this place. I crossed the files, the legends and the journal together and saw where they fit together.” “Any conclusions, professor?” Swift stresses sarcasm on the last word. “A lot of the facts from the legends are straight. I found a few that might match the Dressmaker, and I found the Night Watch Staff files.” “You have to show me those later.” “I will.” Rivet grins. Loud hoofsteps are heard coming down the hall, “Guys!” “Is that Clyde?” Swift asks, turning the camera to the hall. Clyde stops in the room, his face a mix of surprise and excitement. Rivet turns and faces him, “What is it?” “I found a body!” He states. “What?” Rivet jumps up. “Where?” [Timestamp: November 6, 6:20 PM] “Damn.” Swift mutters. The camera is focused on the pearly bones of the unicorn mare in the morgue. The body is the same as it was before when Clyde found it. Rivet has a quizzical look on his face as he reaches down to something on the floor. He holds a small white piece up to his face. “What is that?” The camera swings to focus and zoom in on the object in Rivet’s hand. “It’s…” Rivet takes a deep breath. “It’s part of the horn.” He gulps and places the bone piece next to the body and steps back. “Swift.” Clyde begins, “Do you think it’s the Dressmaker?” “I… I don’t know what to think. I wasn’t expecting to find a body.” “What do we do with it?” Clyde looks around. “We can’t just leave her here.” “Short of burying her ourselves, there’s not much to do.” Rivet walks around to the door. “Let’s put her back. I know it doesn’t seem fair, but she’s been here for years, and no one has come searching for her yet. I think it’s safe to assume it won’t hurt.” Swift agrees, “I guess…” Clyde and Rivet take the handle of the door and push it back towards the wall, the screaming metal moving slower than it came out. It is more than likely that the rollers seized from being in the same position for years. As the bones slowly sink back into the wall, the shrieking subsides and the room falls dead silent. “I guess the legends got something right.” Swift mutters, jostling the camera. [Timestamp: November 6, 9:01 PM] Darkness fills the screen. “Can we actually get to sleep tonight?” “What do you mean?” “Last night, after all the adventuring in the dark, I just couldn’t fall asleep last night.” “Me either.” “Same. Lets just play some cards or something and get some sleep. It’s been a weird day.” “Hold on. The camera’s not showing anything. Swift? What’s up with that?” “Lens cap?” “No, it’s off.” “It must just be too dark in here for it to pick up anything. Hit the little switch on the front of it. That’ll turn on the IR light.” “The other cameras just do it automatically.” “Well, this one isn’t that fancy.” The waiting room is bathed in green light as a faint click is heard. Rivet and Swift are seen sitting on their sleeping bags, looking tired from the day of hiking through the hospital. “Maybe we could try pitching the tent tonight?” Swift looks at the other two. “Why bother?” Clyde asks, shifting his position on his own sleeping bag, “We stayed in here last night, and nothing weird happened, right? I think we’re okay to stay inside.” “But what about that mare the other day?” Swift notes, “She said we shouldn’t sleep indoors. What if there are wild animals living in here?” “Look, Swift,” Rivet explains, “We’re in a room with doors on all sides. Nothing gets in or out of here without turning a knob or pushing a crash bar. Unless raccoons and rats have learned how to open doors with their little paws, I’d say we’re good.” He pauses to think. “Unless, that is, you’re scared to sleep in here after today.” “I’m not scared.” “I would completely understand it. A body in the basement is a bit of a turn-off for me too.” Rivet grisn weakly. “I’m fine.” Swift nods sternly. “I think we’re fine here. Besides, I think a night in the dark woods would be a little more dangerous than an uncomfortable night in the asylum.” Clyde agrees. Rivet nods, “True.” [Timestamp: November 6, 10:12 PM] “Triple Kings.” Rivet states as he drops three cards on the ground in between the three of them. A lantern is sitting next to Swift, lighting the room enough to make the Infrared light unnecessary, and giving the room a macabre glow. “Triple Aces.” Swift raises his eyebrows and drops the cards on top of Rivet’s. Clyde shakes his head, causing his mane to fall into his face. “Nothing. You’re an ass.” “No. You’re the Ass.” Rivet notes. “My play, then?” Swift looks around before sliding the cards off to the side. “One Three.” “I’ll burn it.” Rivet drops a card. “And I’ll drop a pair of tens.” “I’ll lay two jacks.” Clyde states. “Your mom…” Rivet coughs. “What was that?” Clyde stares daggers at Rivet. “Hmm?” Rivet looks up in the air, eyes wide. “Nothing.” “What the hell did you say?” Clyde lays his cards down. “I…” Rivet swallows. “I’m…” “What about my mother?” “Look.” Rivet calms his voice. “I completely forgot. I’m sorry. It’s a habit.” “Damn right you’re sorry.” Clyde eases back. “Maybe we should get some rest.” Swift gathers up the cards. “Yeah…” Rivet nods. Swift puts the cards away and blows out the candle. [Timestamp: November 6, 11:21 PM] The shot is of a hallway in the hospital, the tile floor reflects the IR light, looking like small stars twinkling on the floor. “I just couldn’t sleep.” Swift’s voice drifts from behind the camera. “So I’m going back to check on the room. Maybe I’ll hear it again.” [Timestamp: November 6, 11:28 PM] Swift places the camera on the floor, stuffing something under it to elevate it, giving it a full view of the room behind him while he sits at the box. “Maybe I just need to go through the box again.” Swift nods and opens the chest. He starts, page by page, removing pictures and looking them over. Taking a painstaking amount of time, he removes them one by one. What looks like a wet spot starts in the top left corner of the frame. “I was just hearing things.” It begins to grow. The pile of pictures is getting smaller by the second. It’s a quarter of the frame and still growing. Swift shakes his head to clear any tiredness away and accidentally knocks over the pictures he has already been through. He slowly adjusts them back into a neat pile before getting back to the rest of them. Darkness covers over a third of the frame behind Swift. Swift has four pictures left in his hands. The shadow is half of the frame, and a sound of static can be heard. Three. The static becomes louder. Two. Almost sounding like wind blowing straight into the microphone. Swift does not seem to hear it. One. A shrill tone, starting low, quickly overcomes the static in volume, almost unbearable to listen to. Zero. Silence. The video skips a frame, and the shadow is gone. Swift pauses for a moment, and then takes up the final picture again. “Who are these ponies?” The shrill tone and static noise return, louder than before. But quickly, they are replaced with the sound of laughter on the wind. Swift’s eyes widen as he hears the noise. His head looking quickly around the room. “Do you like them?” Swift grabs the camera frantically and stands up. “Where are you!?” The view darts around the room swiftly and erratically. He holds the picture he was holding before up to the lens to give it a clear look at it. The mare and stallion holding the foal. He slides the picture out of the frame. “Do you like it?” A mare with a straight mane in a hospital gown stands in the middle of the room. She stares at him curiously. Swift begins to pant, almost falling backwards. “Please tell me you like them…” Swift stammers. “I made them myself.” Swift says nothing, his breath heavy and burdened. Without another word, the mare’s face turns exceptionally depressed. Her eyes drop to the floor, and her hair drifts slowly down to her face. Suddenly, her focus shoots over to the door. The mare becomes panicked. "No!" No other sound can be heard and Swift searches the room for what scared the mare, aiming the camera in all directions. "You can't make me! I won't wear the halo again!" Reaching down, she picks up something from the floor, but nothing is seen in her hoof. The mare throws the unseen object through the broken window, and the faint sound of glass shattering, like an echo, drifts through the room. She steps up on the ledge of the window, looking back over her shoulder at the door. “Don’t jump!” Swift shouts, finding his voice and his courage. The mare’s robe drifts slightly in the breeze, her hair cascading over her shoulder. Her pupils have shrunk, giving her a frenzied look as she stares into the dark abyss below her. “Don’t!” “I’m coming, angel!” She screams as she leaps out through the window, her shriek splitting the night. “No!” Swift shouts, running to the window and aiming the camera out. A branch obscures the view of the ground. Swift cannot see where she fell. His breathing becomes heavy again, and frantic as he looks for her. Loud hoofsteps are heard charging down the hall outside of the room. “Swift!” Rivet is heard shouting. “Don’t jump!” “Get away from the window!” Clyde can be heard running into the room. The camera shakes as Swift is grabbed from behind and pulled away from the window. “What were you thinking?” Clyde stares Swift in the eyes. Swift is dead silent, most likely from the shock. “What happened?” Rivet asks. Swift remains silent, his breath heavy and quick. It becomes irregular and his eyes flutter shut. As they do, his breathing returns to normal. “Swift? Swift?” “Let’s get him back to the waiting room.”
November 7: 1November 7: 1 [Timestamp: November 7, 8:46 AM] “Good morning, Equestria.” Rivet stares into the camera lens. He rotates the machine to face the other two who are settling down for breakfast. Clyde sits, making a sandwich while Swift lies in bed, chewing on something. An awkward silence falls over the group as they each eat their meals. Eventually, Rivet breaks it with a slight chuckle. “Hey, guys, remember that concert” He looks at the other two. “Which one?” Clyde cocks his head for a moment, then his eyes widen and he cracks a smile. “Oh yeah! Of course I do. That’s how we all met.” Swift smiles weakly, “That’s not entirely true. I knew both of you before the concert, you just didn’t know each other.” “Yeah,” Rivet grins, “But you never introduced us.” “Man, that was one weird show.” notes Clyde. Swift chuckles, “Who just runs out on stage with an air cannon full of confetti and just blasts the crowd?” “Oh, man,” Rivet shakes his head, “I was cleaning colourful bits of paper out of my ears for weeks.” “The music wasn’t even all that good.” Clyde states. All of them laugh loudly. When the laughter dies down, they all seem to be in higher spirits. They get back to eating their meal, but the silence between them seems less awkward now. For a moment, Swift’s smile falters, and his eyes somberly look down to the floor. He nods once and looks at the other two. “You guys are probably wondering what was happening last night.” The other two take on the same expressions as Swift, but give no response. “Truth is… I’m still not really sure myself. If I could play back what the camera recorded for you, I would. Not just to make myself feel better, but to let me know for sure what happened. But my camera doesn’t do playbacks, and the tapes don’t fit the other cameras… I don’t know how it looked to you guys… I don’t know…” “It looked to us like you were about to swan dive out the window.” Rivet mutters. “I saw something,” Swift shakes his head, “Someone jumped out that window. I was looking for them.” “Describe them.” “It was a mare.” Swift shrugs. “Long straight mane, hospital gown. Big blue eyes.” “Are you sure she was even there?” Clyde cocks his head. “I-I… I’m not…” Rivet’s head snaps up, “Maybe you were sleepwalking? That would explain why none of us heard or saw her. You could have been having night terrors.” “Actually, that makes sense,” Clyde nods, “That’s probably what it was.” “This place must just be getting to me. I mean, we did find a corpse yesterday.” “Alright. It’s settled,” Rivet decides, “Let’s put that weirdness behind us, and get on with our day.” “Agreed.” [Timestamp: November 7, 11:46 AM] “-And that’s why you’re sticking with me.” Clyde gestures to himself. “Fine…” The scene is of another hallway in the hospital, this one on the second floor, light streaming in through the windows giving the hospital a warm glow. “What are we even doing?” “Not sure.” Clyde grins back at the camera. “But we’ll find out.” “Actually,” Rivet says, “I wanted to check out that foal’s room again.” “What for?” Swift asks, worry seeping into his words. The camera swings around Swift to see Rivet motioning backwards towards the room. “If you were dreaming, there has to be something that triggered it. there has to be a reason your brain chose that room.” Clyde walks into the shot. “He has been spending most of his time in there.” “I just want to be sure.” Rivet shrugs. “Besides, there might be something that can tell us who that patient was. I’ve read a few files from that room, but I’m not one hundred percent sure which one it could be.” “Alright. Let’s go in.” Swift mutters. The three of them enter the room, still in the same state it was the night before. Swift nervously shifts as he enters the room, this being made apparent by the camera bobbing repeatedly from side to side. Rivet heads straight to the bed, putting his face to the floor and peering underneath. Almost immediately after, he calls to Clyde to help him move the bed. The two ponies work together, shifting the bed slightly from the wall. Rivet shimmies in between the bed and the wall and picks something shiny up. “Is that a knife?” Swift asks with an air of panic. “No,” Rivet assures him, “It’s just a medical alert bracelet.” Swift breathes out slowly. Placing the bracelet in his saddle bag, Rivet walks over to the window to look out over where Swift saw the mare jump. “Hey.” Clyde whispers as quietly as he can to Swift. “What?” Swift whispers back. [Timestamp: November 7, 11:53 AM] The camera is aimed at Rivet, zoomed in on his torso and head as he continues to look out the window, his gaze shifting rapidly. The room is dead silent, except for the sound of the wind whistling through shards of the broken window. The wind blows Rivet’s short mane slightly, and it falls back into place as soon as the gust ceases. Rivet lets out a sigh. A shadow forms on the wall behind Rivet. Rivet seems to notice something in the distance, and he squints at whatever it is. It begins to grow, closer and closer to Rivet. Rivet takes a pace forward, closer to the edge of the window. A crack is heard, and Rivet pulls his hoof back as he notices broken glass on the floor so close to the window. Shaking his head, he looks back out the window. The shadow continues to grow, closer and closer to Rivet. Suddenly, a hoof comes from off the frame and grabs Rivet, jerking him towards the window, and then dragging him back into the room. Rivet lets loose a terrified shriek as he falls to the floor, his wings flapping wildly and then snapping tightly to his sides. He is shaking and his head looks around, eyes wide. The camera is picked up, and laughter is heard from behind the camera. Turning, the camera shows Clyde standing over the fallen Rivet, smiling broadly and laughing loudly. Rivet continues looking terrified. “Oh, come on!” Clyde manages between fits of laughter. “That was a prime prank! You should have seen your face!” Rivet fights to form words, but all he manages to make are squeaking noises. “Man, oh man!” Swift laughs, moving over to Rivet, who soon becomes very red in the face, and manages to speak. “You’re an ass!” “You screamed at least twice as loud as Swift!” Clyde says. “I thought you were gonna fly out the window for a second!” Swift adds. “I…” Rivet shifts uneasily. “I wouldn’t...” “Oh! That’s right!” Swift turns the camera on himself. “Rivet over here is scared of heights! Yes, ladies, the wings are just for show. This is no Wonderbolt.” “Hey! No.” Rivet shouts. “You’re scared of heights?” Clyde looks down at him. “Seriously?” “All my life.” Rivet huffs. Clyde laughs, “You’re a Pegasus!” “So!?” “How can you be scared of heights?” “I was born on the ground, and I was raised on it. Mom was an earth pony, dad wasn’t home much, he was at work. He never had time to teach me to fly, alright?” “Hey, the ground’s not so bad! That’s my turf!” “I just wish I could have learned sooner.” Rivet looks distant for a moment. “You still screamed like a filly.” Swift chuckles. “You can easily be replaced.” Rivet points towards the camera. “You were all like,” Swift squeaks up his voice, “Help me! Help me!” Clyde laughs at the display while Rivet’s face turns to one of absolute distaste. Suddenly, he gets a coy smile on his face. “You think that’s embarrassing?” he looks up at Clyde, “Why don’t we tell the world who your marefriend is?” Clyde ceases his giggling. “Don’t even think about it. Don’t bring her into this.” Rivet starts singing, “Clyde and-” “Shut up!” “-Sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” “At least I’m stallion enough to go up the tree.” Swift giggles loudly, before making an ‘ooh’ing noise at Rivet, who blushes madly. “And stallion enough to ask a mare out.” Rivet blushes further. Swift zooms in on his embarrassed friend’s face. “Can we get a close up of that?” “Go away!” Rivet puts a hoof over his face. “Aww… Is little Rivet camera shy?” Swift asks in the same squeaky voice. “This coming from the filly who’s always hiding behind the camera.” Rivet shoots back. “And the one who falls for every girl he sees!” Clyde adds. “Whoa! Don’t bring me into this!” [Camera 1] “Hey, bro,” Clyde whispers from behind the camera, which is focused on Rivet. “Yeah?” he whispers back. “Thanks for being a good sport. I really wanted to get Swift’s mind off of what happened last night. A good prank was my best option.” “What was the other option?” “Locking you in a closet while Swift and I whisper random lines from ghost stories through the key hole.” “Thanks for picking this one.” “No problem.” [Timestamp: November 7, 3:33 PM] “Who’s hungry?” Swift mutters. The scene shows a large hall with steel tables that have been fixed to the floor with screws. The benches where ponies would sit are either affixed to the tables, or screwed to the floor in a similar fashion. The floor itself is made of large ceramic tiles that were once polished and bright, but now remain tarnished and scratched. Fluorescent lights hang from the ceiling, and there is a counter from the far end of the room almost until the door. A sneeze guard covers buffet trays on the counter. “I wouldn’t eat anything that came out of this hole in the ground.” Rivet shakes his head, faking a womanly refined accent. “You sure you’re not a mare? The voice was way too convincing.” Swift chuckles. “I am one hundred percent stallion, thank you.” The three of them part ways in the cafeteria, each headed in his own direction to take a look around. Swift takes the camera into the kitchen, pushing through the double doors with a loud creek. [Camera 3] “OH MY CELESTIA!” A scream comes from out of the shot. “Swift!?” Rivet calls back from behind the camera. He immediately starts running towards the source of the scream, his panting into the microphone causes the audio to clip. Bursting into the kitchen, Rivet searches shortly for Swift, who he finds standing in the middle of the room, a blank stare on his face. “Swift!” Rivet runs to him. “Rivet…” Swift stares at Rivet with terror in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” Clyde charges into the kitchen. “Look…” Swift looks down for a moment, and then raises a hoof. Rivet peers at a shining piece of metal in his friend’s hoof. “What is-” “It’s so unnatural…” Swift cracks up, while revealing what he holds in his hoof. A shiny, metal spork. “You guys are going to destroy my heart.” [Timestamp: November 7, 5:47 PM] The shot opens in the waiting room, the three ponies are sitting down and eating meals out of cans. Swift is using the spork. For a few moments they say nothing, but soon, Clyde looks up. “Riv, have you figured out which files match which ponies?” “No,” Rivet sighs, “not yet. I really feel like I need to, though.” “Swift, any more stories? C’mon, I hate silent meals.” “There is this one.” Swift puts his can down. "There was another patient here. She saw a lot of things. That was her problem. She hallucinated all the time. They started out when she was young. Her parents just thought it was an imaginary friend, but when she grew older, they dropped her here. Her visions were nice when she was young, but they started to become... Disturbed…” “Disturbed how?” Rivet cocks his head. “They became really violent. Think of your worst fears and multiply it by a thousand. When she wasn’t passed out from fatigue, she was screaming twenty-four seven from the things in her head. She couldn’t take it any more. So, one day, started scratching at her face. By the time the doctors got into the room, she had practically clawed her eyes out. The doctors did their best, but her vision was permanently damaged.” “What happened to her?” Clyde asks. Swift shakes his head. “I don’t know.” “What?” Rivet asks, “no wandering ghost? No ghosts running around and stealing eyes?” “Would that be better?” “There’s no closure.” “Sometimes we don’t get closure. Would you rather she ran around stealing eyes?” “It would be scarier.”
November 8: 1November 8: 1 [Timestamp: November 8 12:25 AM] The crashing of shattering glass echoes through the room. “What the hell!?” Swift snatches up the camera and searches for the broken glass. One of the shatter-proof portholes on the door seems to have exploded inwards. “How did that happen?” Rivet asks sleepily. The three stallions gather around the glass to inspect, when suddenly another window is heard shattering. It’s found to be the other porthole in the door. The three of them stumble back from the doors. Static floods the audio followed by a loud bang, like a breaker being thrown. The sudden sound causes the ponies to stumble further. Along with the static, a slight squealing can be heard in the distance. “Get away…” The same angry female voice from the foal’s room hisses from nowhere. “Swift?” Rivet turns to the camera. Swift does not reply. “Get away from…” “Are you hearing…” Rivet stops, obviously getting a nod in reply from one or both of his friends. “Get away from the…” “What’s it say-” “Get away from the door!” The voice screams loudly. “Patients are not allowed to leave!” The doors shake violently, spraying shards of glass around the room. All three stallions charge away from the door, Clyde slams through the door leading to the waiting room. As the doors to the waiting room close, the glass explodes and the locks can be heard turning. Rivet screeches to a halt on the tile floor, reeling to look at the doors. “Did those just lock!?” Rivet asks, running back to the doors. He tugs on the handle, but to no avail. “Damn!” Clyde stomps his hooves in frustration. “What do we do?” Swift asks, panic gripping his words. “Is there anything we can do?” Rivet kicks to door one last time. Swift aims the lens at the other two.“We could…” “What?” “Well, we could try to…” Swift searches for the words, “stop them.” “Stop them?” Clyde cocks an eyebrow. “What do you think we are?” “Well it’s better than just sitting here, scared of anything that creaks.” As if on cue, a loud bang echoes through the room, causing them all to jump. Rivet clenches his teeth, staring down at the floor beneath his hooves. After a moment, he raises his head. “How?” [Timestamp: November 8, 12:34 AM] A hoof is rifling through a kitchen drawer. There are random odds and ends filling it, but the hoof grabs nothing. “Anything?” Swift asks. “Why are we looking for salt?” Clyde shoots back, closing the drawer he’s looking through. “It keeps ghosts away, supposedly.” Swift replies. Rivet closes another drawer. “No. Apparently, they decided that getting the salt out of here was more important than getting bodies out of the basement, and the files out of the cabinets!” “Calm down. It’s probably just a coincidence, this place must have been dumped in a hurry. Maybe it lost funding, and they never got around to emptying it out.” “Well, if there’s no salt, what are we gonna do?” Clyde asks. Rivet fishes out the journal and a flashlight from his saddlebag. “I’m going to find out what happened to this place.” “Oh yeah! A good story from the crazy Doctor’s journal will calm us down.” Clyde states with heavy sarcasm. “It’s better than nothing…” Swift grumbles. “We might learn something helpful. Flip to the last page.” “Will do.” Rivet flips through the journal, coming to the last page with writing on it, still several pages from the end of the book. “Let’s see…” “November 14, Well damn it all. I suppose it was only a matter of time, though. The backers finally cut funding to the hospital after the last incident. How could this happen? It just doesn’t make any sense. I’ve failed my patients, my staff, my family, and myself. But, if there is any goodness left in this world, I just hope my patient is in a better place. She’s been through so much. If there is an afterlife, I hope she’s been saved a penthouse apartment, because after all she’s been through, she has certainly deserved it. Doctor Chlorohoof, MD, Ex-Chief of Medicine.” Silence falls. “Go back.” Swift commands, breaking the silence between them. “What’s the incident he’s talking about?” “Lemme check…” Rivet flips back a few pages. “November 6, Why her? Why did she have to do it? Neither of them deserved what happened. I suppose explanation is necessary. The head Nurse of Night Watch has been-Had been abusing her powers over the last several months. She took patients down for unnecessary EST treatments. I don’t know why she did it. But the logs don’t lie. The number of treatments is sickening. It may be the best treatment we have, but her use of it was maniacal. I suppose it is rude to speak ill of the dead, but it is the truth.” “Dead?” Swift asks, “How?” “Let me finish… Wait.” Rivet shifts a page, and as he does, a piece of paper falls out onto the floor. “Hm?” Clyde picks up the slip and holds it to his face, using a flashlight to illuminate it. “It’s from the local paper. Murder Suicide at Trotsburg’s-Crazy Kills Nurse Before Herself. Earlier this week, there was a break out at Trotsburg’s Hospital. The patient in question dragged her nurse down to the Electric Shock Therapy room in the second basement. Forcing her into the shackles, she is believed to have forced her nurse to endure several sessions of shocks before the nurse succumbed. It would have been a painful way to die. After murdering the nurse, the patient feared the police and threw herself from her second story room window. She died instantly when her head hit the ground.” “That’s awful.” Rivet shakes his head. “That’s not true!” Swift states. “I saw her. She was scared of the police, yeah. But she… She couldn’t have killed her.” “What makes you so sure?” Rivet turns to him. “She was crazy. She was probably hopped up on all sorts of drugs, what was stopping her?” “That nurse terrifies her,” Swift argues, “she can hardly talk about her, and she’s the only thing keeping her in check. How could she kill her?” “People do strange things when they’re scared.” Clyde replies. “What makes you want to take this mare’s side, anyway?” Rivet asks. “I don’t know. The way the Doctor keeps talking about her. It just makes me so mad that a nurse, someone who’s supposed to look out for ponies like her, was torturing them. What for?” [Timestamp: November 8, 12:54 AM] “Are you sure about this?” Rivet is the one behind the camera now. Swift stands in front of the chest in the foal’s room, with Clyde holding a flashlight in his teeth. “Well, I want to know the truth. This is the only way.” Swift nods. The shot moves from the stallions, to the door, and back to the stallions. “What about that voice?” “I think that’s the nurse.” “The one who got electrocuted?” Swift nods. “With the information from the journal, and the from what the…” Swift almost has to force the word out, “the ghost said… I’d say it’s more than likely.” “I wish this wasn’t happening,” Rivet sighs. “What do you have to do?” Clyde asks through his teeth and the flashlight. “She seems to come when I hold onto this picture.” Swift notes. “What picture?” Rivet asks. “The one of her dream family.” Swift sifts through the pictures, stopping to look up at the camera. “Ready?” “Sure.” Clyde nods. “As I’ll ever be…” Rivet agrees. The screaming sound of static and the familiar chattering sound blow madly through the room as Swift reaches for the desired picture. Rivet and Clyde stumble from the sounds, but Swift seems to be putting all his might into keeping a steady composure. Rivet scans the room shakily as the sound dies away. “A-angel?” “What-” Rivet catches himself as the camera falls on the apparition of the mare with the straight mane. “Angel... You came back.” “Y-yes.” Swift still stammers. “I… C-came back.” “We have to hurry and leave!” The mare urges. “That monster could be back anytime now!” “We have to know,” Swift takes deep breaths, “what happened to the… Monster?” “What do you mean? She could be coming right now! Nothing can stop her!” “You don’t… Remember?” “Angel! She’s coming! We have to leave!” A loud bang can be heard in the halls, like a steel door slamming shut. “She’s…” The mare stops, her eyes wide and staring at the door. “Swift. We should get out of here.” Clyde hisses. “Right.” Swift comes away from the mare, and the three of them head towards the door. The mare screams, “Angel! Please! She’ll get you!” Rivet gulps, “What do we do?” “I don’t know…” Swift mutters. “Get the hell back to your rooms!” The angry feminine voice from before shouts. “Give me the camera.” Swift takes the camera from Rivet and begins scanning the room. In the far corner of the room, a dark area that has the appearance of water starts to run down the wall into the space where wall meets floor. It runs out of some unseen hole in pulses, like an open wound bleeding out onto the floor. It spreads up the wall, until it is the height of a stallion. Suddenly, the pulsing stops, and a pair of glowing orbs appear in the shadow. The come to rest at head level, gaining the look of angry eyes staring out of the wall. The wall begins to bulge, almost like it is collapsing in on itself, but the wall does not buckle. Suddenly, what looks like a hoof comes out of the bulge, black like the stain on the wall. It points at the three stallions. “All of you!” A distorted female voice screams, “Now!” “Run!” The mare with the straight mane shouts frantically. “Run! And take my foals with you! They need to be safe!” A hideous, blood curdling chuckle echoes out from the shadow on the wall. “Oh. You’re still seeing those foals? I suppose there’s no other option, then. Hehehe... Let’s go back to the halo, shall we?” “Angel! Run!” “I’ll deal with you three after!” The same chuckle echoes through the room as the blackness sinks back into the wall, with the mare being sucked in after it, fading like sand through the cracks until the room is left in still, calm, silence. “She…” Swift whispers, “Didn’t remember… How can you forget how you died?” “Maybe she didn’t.” Rivet coughs, his voice cracking with every word. “Maybe she remembers how she died, but not how the nurse died. Why would you be scared of something you killed?” “Unless she didn’t kill her.” Swift argues. “We have to be sure. Maybe that’s our only chance of getting out of here.” [Timestamp: November 8, 1:08 AM] Click. Clack. Click. Clack. The sound of hooves rolling down metal stairs is all that let’s the viewer know that the camera is rolling when the screen is black. Click. Clack. Only the sound of hooves, and the breathing of three stallions. Click. Tap. Tap. Tap. As the sound changes, it seems they have reached the bottom of the stairwell. The camera is jostled, and a faint click can be heard just before the image of a metal door bathed in the eerie green light comes into view. The door has a placard on it which read, “Basement 2”. One stallion moves to it and shoves his way through the door, turning back to fix his mane after it falls into his eyes. In silence, the three of them head down the hall until Clyde asks them to stop. A faint weeping is all that makes any noise in the otherwise dead hall. “What is that?” Rivet whispers, as if speaking louder than the crying would cause whatever was crying to come after them. “That,” Clyde whispers in response, “is the Dressmaker.” Rivet coughs and nods. “We have something else we need to do right now.” Swift reminds them before urging them down the hall. The stop at a door when Rivet pulls out the map and keys from his saddlebag. He selects the key and sticks it in the lock, turning it slowly. The lock clicks and Rivet pushes inward. Stepping through, they find themselves in one of the Electric Shock Therapy rooms. The control booth in the corner of the room has a glass screen separating the viewing doctor or nurse from the patient. The table in the centre of the room has cracked leather clamps for four hooves, the neck, and the waist. At one end is the headpiece, with wires connecting it to a large generator located on the wall opposite of the control booth, but with wires leading back to the booth. Rivet pulls the journal out of his bag and starts going through it, pulling out the newspaper article as well. Clyde stands close to the door, moving a small metal tool box next in front of the door to hold it open. Swift begins looking around the room. “Riv, is this the right room?” Swift asks. Rivet closes the journal. “I think so. If the article and journal, as well as the logs are correct.” “So, what are we doing down here?” Clyde peers out the door like a lookout. Swift can be heard tugging a paper out from under his wing. “I want to know if she really killed her.” “You brought the picture?” Rivet turns his head from facing the glass to look over at Swift. Suddenly, the glass of the booth explodes outwards, causing Rivet to scream and fall to the floor. He skids on the tiles for a moment before coming to rest just before the table. As he raises himself from the floor, only the left side of his head is seen in the shot. “Rivet!” Clyde runs from the door over to his friend. “Are you okay?” Swift asks frantically. “Oh-” Rivet begins to hyperventilate. “My-my-oh no-please!” He raises a for leg to cover his right eye, then pulls it away after a moment. A small amount of blood is on his hoof as he inspects it with his left eye. “Clyde-Swift-My eye!” Clyde grabs the sides of Rivet’s head with his hooves and looks him over. “You’re cut bad. We need to get him to a doctor.” “Am I gonna…” Rivet’s voice is shaking. “Am I gonna live?” “Yes you are,” Swift states, sitting next to Rivet, “You’re gonna be just fine.” “The bleeding is manageable.” Clyde nods. “But we need to get him to a doctor for his eye. Rivet. Can you see me?” “Yes, of course.” Rivet starts taking deep breaths. Clyde puts a hoof over Rivet’s left eye. “How about now?” “I…” Rivet stammers. “I’m not sure. It’s all… Blurry and… Blood.” “Who has the first-aid kit?” Swift asks. “I do.” Rivet points to his bag. Swift quickly fishes the box out and pulls out a bandage. “Clyde, is there any glass in his eye?” “Not that I can see. It looks like it just cut across.” “Then help me tie this around his head.” As the two of them work together to tie the bandage on, neither of them notice a shadow creeping down the wall. It runs across the mortared seems in between the brickwork on the wall, like a maze. When it hits the ground, it forms a puddle, a stream, and three more puddles. All four are roughly the size of a ball each. “Is it tight?” Swift asks. Rivet groans, “very.” He looks down to his shaking hoof, still with his own blood on it. He takes a deep breath, lets it out quickly and shakes his head, putting his hoof back down. “Good.” Clyde nods. “Now, let’s get you up and to the ground floor. That’s enough.” “We have to find out!” Rivet shook his head. “I am not leaving until we find out what happened here. There’s nothing we can do anyway.” “Let’s at least move away from the explosive equipment.” Clyde reasons. “He’s right,” Swift says, “we don’t know what’s going to happen.” Rivet nods and follows Clyde to the door, sitting next to it. A hiss like compressed gas leak startles the three stallions, as Swift turns the camera. Apparently he sees the shadows on the floor, or rather, the four bulging masses on the concrete floor. The have the colour of tar, and they bubble and grow. Swift hold out the picture. “Hello?” The four masses explode like grenades, spraying the black substance like smoke around the room. Rivet and Clyde shout in surprise, but it is unclear what is happening to them. The steel door is heard slamming hard. The smoke begins to clear, and a metal object is seen sailing towards the camera. Without a chance to shout in surprise, Swift falls to the ground, the camera toppling away from him. As it lands, it shows Swift’s unconscious face on the ground. The camera is jostled.
November 8: 2November 8: 2 [Camera 3] “Clyde!” Rivet calls loudly. There is no response. Rivet turns frantically to see Clyde on the ground, a dazed expression on his face, “Hello?” Clyde shakes his head. “Is there anybody in there?” Rivet puts down the camera and reaches for his friend’s shoulder, shaking him lightly. “Just nod if you can hear me.” Clyde nods. Then he shakes his head madly and takes a quick breath. “Is your eye-” “It’s still bandaged,” Rivet groans, “and it stings like hell.” “Where’s Swift?” Clyde’s ears perk up as his head whips around, tossing his mane from side to side. “I think he’s stuck in the room,” Rivet replies, “with whatever threw us out.” [Timestamp: November 8, 1:23 AM] The camera is focused on Swift, but set up on a table. It shows him lying on the floor, his eyes slowly fluttering open. He takes a breath, and attempts to reach a hoof to his head, but his hoof does not move. Swift’s eyes open wide, and his head turns from side to side, observing his hooves’ inability to move. “Riv! Clyde!” Swift calls out, but no answer comes. A cackle fills the room, and Swift’s head snaps towards the direction of the sound. Swift stammers, “What are-” “Your friends are indisposed right now. I will be the nurse overseeing your… Operation.” The female voice cackles at herself. Swift struggles against his unseen restraints as he lies on the floor. “I think you’ll find I took every precaution to keep you still,” she hisses, “we wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself, now would we?” In his struggle, Swift spreads his wings, slapping them against the floor. “Oh, I had completely forgotten about those,” the voice states, “It’s been ages since I worked on a Pegasus.” Suddenly, his wings seem to freeze in mid-flap, fully extended across the floor. “You look just like the anatomical diagrams in the textbooks,” she laughs, then goes silent for a moment. “Let’s see if the inside is the same.” “What are you!?” Swift screams. A shadowy haze winds around the room, two glowing eyes within. The haze surrounds Swift’s head. The voice whispers, “Excited.” Swift begins to shake slightly. “I haven’t been able to work on a living body in quite some time. It’s so exciting to see some fresh meat around here.” She cackles. “Why?” Swift asks, his voice sounding a little hoarse. “Why are you-” “I hate them.” The voice states, her voice callous and wretched. “All of them.” “W-what?” The voice becomes even more choked, “I hate all of them. All of these lunatics. They make me sick. They don’t deserve any better than I had!” Swift gulps audibly. “Don’t act surprised. Your little bitch of a friend read my file. I was in a place like this when I was her age. Oh, it was hell.” The mist with glowing eyes begins to take the shape of a mare. “The staff were awful. They hurt me. They hurt me in every way they could. They knew just how to do it, too.” The black form of the mare looks over at a cabinet resting in the corner. The cabinet begins to shake furiously. It rocks back and forth on its legs, slamming against the wall. Suddenly, the cabinet falls, but stops mid-fall, just above Swift’s left wing. “The worst part is,” the mare laughs, “I knew it was coming. Oh, all the signs were there. I got used to their habits. I knew exactly what was coming, and when. The anticipation! Oh the rush of terror! It was the hardest part. Probably worse than the actual ‘treatment’ was. And they would come for me. And they would hurt me.” The cabinet slams into the floor and Swift’s wing., a disgusting crunch following. Swift screams, his voice cracking as the pain rips through him. His limbs writhe with the pain, and the muscles in his abdomen and limbs strain against his restraints. “And they would hurt me again.” The cabinet shifts slightly. “And again.” It slide further. “And again!” She screams. Swift screams loudly, “STOP!” [Camera 3] “We have to do something!” Rivet shouts, hearing Swift’s cries. “What can we do?” Clyde barks. Rivet slams two hooves into the floor. “I don’t know!” “There has to be something!” Clyde taps the floor. Suddenly, he looks down to his left. Reaching over, he pulls up a swatch of fabric, different from before. His face seems to light up with an idea. “What is it?” “I think we can do something.” Clyde decides. “Follow me.” The two of them move quickly over to the morgue, Rivet lagging behind. He grunts occasionally, like reacting to a papercut. The two of them push through the steel door and into the cold, dark room. “What are we doing?” Rivet asks. “These… These things can interact with each other.” Clyde begins. “The patient is scared of the nurse, and the nurse can control her. Maybe another nurse can do something. Maybe not scare her, but maybe distract her long enough for us to help Swift.” “What are you thinking?” Rivet shakes his head. “Bringing more of them out?” “It’s our best shot.” Clyde argues. “But how do we find them? They just show up.” “It’s something.” Rivet pauses to think. “Every time they show up. Something sets them off. Swift figured out that the drawing brought out the patient. It was something she was connected to.” “But what brought out the nurse?” Rivet is dead silent. “Rivet. This is your theory. What brought on the nurse.” “I think… I think I did…” “What?” “I was going through the files, and… I found her file. I think that’s what made her… What…” “You…” “I’m so sorry.” “It… It doesn’t matter! What’s done is done! We have to worry about helping Swift.” “Right.” Rivet swallows. “So, what did you do just before the Dressmaker showed up?” “I turned off the gramophone.” Rivet turns to the gramophone in the corner. It sits quietly in the shadows, the record still and silent. Clyde walks over to it, looking back over his shoulder at Rivet. Slowly, he lowers a hoof onto the surface of the machine, touching it gently and quietly. After a few moments, nothing happens. “Was there something else?” Rivet asks. Clyde slaps a hoof to his forehead. “The swatch!” “What?” “The swatch of fabric. Is there one on the ground?” Rivet uses the camera to scan the floor, stopping on a small square of fabric. “There!” Clyde steps over to it. He drops his camera next to the Gramophone. He leans close to it, hesitating more than before. His hoof trembles slightly, holding it back from the small piece of fabric. With one deep breath he slams the hoof down on the silk. A screaming cry from a mare blasts through the room. After the initial scream, weeping and whimpering replace it as Rivet turns the camera around, searching for it. The camera comes to a stop aimed at a dark corner, where a mare with a frenzied, but styled, mane sits weeping over a bundle of fabric. The same dark stains cover the bundle. “Ruined… Ruined…” She weeps, leaning her forehead down to touch the bundle affectionately. Rivet audibly gulps behind the camera. Clyde looks over at Rivet, then back to the mare in the corner. “Miss?” Clyde kneels before her, getting closer to her eye level. “Ruined…” She continues to whimper. “Please,” Clyde whispers, “we need your help.” “Help…” She looks down at the bundle. “The nurse, she’s…” Clyde looks at her intently, awaiting her gaze. Slowly, the mare raises her head. “Ruined… Everything…” “The dress isn’t important.” Clyde moves closer, speaking tenderly. “Ruined… Everything…” She turns her head back down, tears falling onto the bundle. “Clyde.” Rivet whispers. “What if she’s not talking about the dress?” Clyde looks up in realization. Then back down at the mare. “It’s not your fault.” The weeping stops with a hiccough. “It…” “The accident wasn’t your fault.” Clyde stares intently at the mare. “You couldn’t have done anything. It’s not your fault.” “She’s…” The mare hiccoughs again. “She’s dead.” “It’s not your fault.” The mare says nothing, she does nothing, the bundle in her forelegs is still. Clyde repeats himself. Suddenly, the bundle in her forelegs fades into sand, pooling on the floor beneath her hooves. “We need you,” Clyde begs. As the bundle finishes disintegrating, the sand turns black and sinks into some unseen hole. The mare rises to her feet, cocking her head. “Please.” The mare half grins. Her voice is sweet, but ladened with pain and sorrow. “What do you need?” [Timestamp: November 8, 1:38 AM] Swift is shaking slightly, trying his best not to move his wings out of reflex. His eyes are open and full of terror at the sight of his captor. His hooves and torso are still held in place by their unseen restraints. “Oh, this is fun.” The distorted mare’s voice cackles. “But I can promise you one thing. I’m going to enjoy killing you and your friends.” The word ‘friends’ almost sounded spat out, like it was disgusting to the mare. “Leave…” Swift pants, “leave them alone.” She laughs again, louder. “Cute.” The black body fades back into smoke, spreading around the room. “But you don’t have a choice. You’re my patients now. And you will take the medicine that the doctor orders!” The cabinet shifts again. Swift tenses up and emits a mixture of a groan and a scream. The smoke reforms into the black mare shape. Her glowing eyes stare at the camera lens. Her gaze remains on the frame for several seconds before she moves on. She goes eerily silent, stepping around Swift to a table. The drawer slides open, and a thin metal piece is pulled out. It’s a scalpel. It begins to rotate slowly before coming to rest just above Swift. “Let’s see what you look like.” She whispers. “They say everyone is beautiful on the inside.” The knife slowly drifts down towards Swift’s chest. The whole room seems to grow tense in the silence. “Nurse?” Another feminine voice asks. “What the hell is it?” The voice of the nurse hisses, her voice filled with disappointed excitement. “I’m afraid the Doctor needs to see you.” “Don’t you have a dress to make? Tell the Doctor I’m busy!” “He says it’s urgent.” The scalpel is slammed into the hard tile floor. Hard enough to stick. “I’m busy! I’m in with a patient!” “The Doctor does not like to wait. You know that.” “I’ll have to pull this one and his little bitch friends back later!” She shouts. “Then do it later.” The Dressmaker orders. “Dammit!” The figure dissolves into smoke, and the smoke ploughs into the wall. As it does, it leaves a black stain on the wall, which begins climbing the cracks in the wall, like a pipeline full of tar. Swift’s limbs go limp as he regains control of them. The sound of weeping whips past the camera as the door unlocks with a click. Suddenly, two sets of hoofs were heard galloping through the door. “Swift!” Clyde shouted. “Holy…” Rivet muttered as he saw the cabinet on Swift’s wing. “Rivet, I’ll lift the cabinet, you pull Swift out.” Clyde orders. Rivet nods, putting tender hooves around Swift’s waist. He nods again to show Clyde that he is ready. Using all of his might, Clyde pushes against the cabinet, bracing himself firmly against the floor. With a groan and a creak, the cabinet lifts off the floor, causing Swift to cry out in pain. Rivet pulls him across the floor until he is sure that the cabinet will not clip his wing on its way down, then slumps over. “Rivet?” Swift pants. “What?” Rivet asks. “You look like hell.” Swift coughs. “Same to you.” Rivet chuckles. “Let’s get out of here before she comes back.” Clyde states. “Anywhere without a damn scalpel is fine by me.” Swift nods. Rivet helps Swift to his feet, Swift wincing every time his wing shifts or is jostled. The three of them walk by the camera on their way out of the room, Clyde supporting Swift on one side, and Rivet walking behind them. The camera is left, staring at the mess of cabinet and tile in the dark room. [Camera 3] The three ponies trek up the stairs, silent except for grunts and groans as Swift and Rivet wince at their injuries. The two sets of stairs seem to go by very quickly as they find themselves again on the ground floor. Rivet hands the camera to Clyde when they reach their camp. “How are we supposed to last until first light?” Rivet mutters. “We just have to keep calm.” Swift states. “It’s not like they can do much worse to us than they’ve done.” “Only one of them wants us dead.” Clyde turns to Swift. “Just that nurse that Rivet let out.” “What?” Swift turns to Rivet. “You?” “I didn’t know.” Rivet looks down. “I had no idea…” “It’s not important.” Clyde states. “She’s out. We just need to figure out a way to keep ourselves safe if she comes back.” Swift thinks a moment, then nods. “If the patient really did kill her. Then she just needs to remember.” “How?” Rivet asks, turning his head so his left eye can see Swift better, giving the camera full view of the bloodied bandage wrapped around his head. “I need to remind her of what she did.” Swift decides. “If I can do that, maybe she can control the nurse.” “I hope you’re right.” Rivet shakes his head. “Otherwise, we’re screwed.” “Should I try now?” Swift looks at the other two. “Now’s better than when that crazy nurse comes back.” The other two nod in agreement as Swift pulls the hoof painting out of his bag yet again. “Here goes nothing.” Swift takes a deep breath, holding out the picture. The now familiar sound of chattering laughter of foals fills the room as the figure of a mare in a hospital gown fades into the frame. Unnoticeable at first, almost mistakable for a malformed part of the film, slowly but surely she becomes a part of the shot. “A-angel?” She says. Swift nods. “What happened to-Your w-wing!” She cries out. “The nurse-” “The nurse!?” She screams. “She got you!? How did you escape?” “That’s not important.” Swift stops her. “Please, I need to tell you something.” “As soon as she leaves us alone, we can leave together, right, Angel?” “I… I can’t say for sure.” Swift shakes his head. “Now, please. Listen. Do you remember what you did on November 6?” “November… 6?” She cocks her head. “Why?” “Do you remember?” Swift repeats. “No…” She shakes her head sadly. “Should I?” “What did you do with the nurse? The monster?” “She-she probably did the same thing she always did.” The mare lowers her head. “Then what. Something was different.” Swift adds. “November 6, Why her? Why did she have to do it? Neither of them deserved what happened. I suppose explanation is necessary.” Rivet reads off. The patient stares into the distance, her eyes wide. “D-doctor...” She mutters. “November 6…” “What happened.” Swift asks. “Nothing!” The screeching voice of the nurse rips through the room. “I took this bitch down to the lab.” The camera turns to the corner of the room, which is a swimming sea of black. Shadows that not even light can penetrate drift like slow motion across the floor, pooling out. The piercing eyes slide towards the patient, tearing through the darkness bleeding from the wall. “Angel!” The patient screams. “And tonight,” the darkness hisses, “I’ll take you and your ‘angel’ down to the lab.” “Remember!” Swift shouts, “just think!” “I-I…” The patient’s eyes grow distant again. The fog begins to envelope everyone in the room. It almost seems to grow thicker as it surrounds them. Swift looks frantically at the mare, but does not move. “I will,” the nurse’s voice screams, “kill all of you!” The fog collects around Rivet. “Oh… What are you scared of? Hm?” The eyes of the nurse rise to stare Rivet in his good eye. “Death? Pain?” The bandage is torn from his face, revealing his bloodied eye and scratched face. “I know… That sinking feeling you get when you fall. That absolute terror of no one coming to save you when your body hits the cold, hard ground, splintering every bone in your body.” Rivet begins to shake in fear, just before the smoke flies from him and wraps around Clyde. “What about you? Oh… I know. Loss. You don’t want to lose your friends, you’ve already lost so much. You don’t want to lose… The one you love. How cute. I know just how to deal with you.” “You!” The patient screams at the smoke. “What are you looking at, little bitch?” The smoke cackles. “Can’t wait to be torn apart?” “I’m not the bitch.” The patient hisses. “I killed you.” The smoke seems to freeze in mid air. “W-what did you say?” “I remember everything.” Her mane grows frenzied, and her pupils seem to shrink. “You wanted me dead. You hated me. But I killed you. That night, the morning of November 6. I had enough!” She screams loudly. “All I had to do was tie you down! I knew how all of the machines worked! I knew how you controlled the halo! All I had to do was TURN. IT. ON.” The sound of electricity blast through the air, causing the smoke to solidify in the shape of a mare with a nurses cap. “N-no! No! No! You-” She screams. “No! It hurts! Stop!” “Angel…” The mare looks to him. “I have her, and now we can be together.” “Swift! Clyde” Rivet looks towards the camera. “We have to go. Now! The doors should be unlocked!” Clyde starts running towards Rivet, but Swift hesitates, seeing the nurse writhing on the ground in agony. “Swift! We have to go!” Clyde calls over to him. Suddenly, the nurse reverts to smoke, spraying around the room in an attempt to escape the patient. The patient lets out a shout and explodes into a white smoke, spraying away like the nurse. Their voices seem to come from all corners of the hospital. The explosion pushes Swift’s wing into his side, causing him to shout in pain. Clyde and Rivet run over to him, helping him to his hooves and running with him towards the exit. The camera falls from Clyde’s hooves. “Shit! The camera!” “Forget it! Run!” The voices of the mare comes through, loud and clear in the microphone. “ANGEL! DON’T LEAVE ME ALONE!” The three of them are seen running around the corner to the exit, and no more can be seen or inferred as to their outcome. My colleagues and I discovered these three cameras while on an expedition to the Asylum. We have not yet been able to locate the three ponies featured in the film. As to the nature of the video, we can not attest to the supernatural phenomenon that occurred.
November 7: 2November 7: 2 [Timestamp: November 7, 7:32 PM] “-And that’s why they called me Clyde.” “You made that up!” Rivet shakes his head. “How do you know? You weren’t there.” The three of them sit at one of the cafeteria tables, their food set before them, and cards in their hooves. The sun has begun to fade, as the silhouettes of trees can be viewed through the windows in the amber light. “So, where’s everyone going tonight?” Swift throws down a few cards. “Three fours.” “Three sevens.” Rivet drops his cards on the pile. “I think it would probably be best if we stayed in bed tonight. We don’t need a repeat of last night.” “Burn.” Clyde drops two cards on top. “I don’t know. We’re only here for a day or two more, why don’t we go exploring a little more?” “I…” Rivet stammers, “I dunno… ” “Don’t worry, Riv,” Swift gives Rivet a slap on the back, “It’s fine. I had a bad dream last night, no biggie.” Rivet sighs. Clyde drops three cards, “Three jacks.” “They all burn.” Rivet tosses a card on top, grinning. [Timestamp: November 7, 8:53 PM] “So, about the body in the basement...” Swift asks from behind the camera, pointing it at Rivet and Clyde who are adjusting their sleeping bags back in the waiting room. Instead of night vision, each of them holds a flashlight to illuminate the room. “Any ideas who it is?” “It matches the dressmaker legend that you told us.” Clyde points out. Rivet nods, “It really does. So much it’s scary.” “Did you find anything to back it up before?” “I found her file, I think.” Rivet nods again. “It’s weird seeing her file photo. Hard to tell she was a living pony.” “But is there anything that makes her the Dressmaker we think she is?” “Actually, yes. There’s a journal entry about her.” Rivet digs into his saddlebag, pulling out the leather book. He clears his throat. “October 27, A new group of students joined the workforce today. Among them was a mare I thought I recognized. She was a new nurse, a unicorn, so I assumed I recognized her from a picture in one of the school magazines I receive every month. They always seem to want to send their students here, maybe just because we’re new. Regardless, I looked into why I recognized her. When we had a moment alone, I asked her if she had been in any news articles recently. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, her face dropped into a depressed frown, and her eyes glistened with sorrow. She said, “Don’t you recognize me?” I shook my head, and she sighed loudly. She said, “Do the words, Ruined, Ruined, mean anything to you?” That’s when it hit me. I had treated her years ago after an accident she had suffered. An accident that had left her mentally scarred, and her sister dead. She had been a part-time seamstress then, and now she was one of my nurses. I was filled with pride at that moment. I had saved this girl, and she wanted to repay me by becoming a medical professional. I asked where she had been assigned. She told me she had been placed as a mortician. I worry about her in that situation. Death is what drove her to madness, and now it is her profession. I hope she does not have a relapse down there, but it is her field of choice, and I cannot argue with that. Doctor Chlorohoof, MD.” “So,” Swift excitedly begins, “so it’s true! The legend of the Dressmaker is true! All legends start from fact!” “You’re pretty excited,” Clyde says, “for a guy who just put a face and name to the body in the basement.” “But this means that some other legends could be true too,” Swift argues, “This is huge stuff!” “He’s right.” Rivet closes the journal. “This is huge.” “Maybe you could go back into the office tonight to try and find some more!” Rivet shakes his head. “I think I’ll wait until morning.” “Your loss.” “I think it would be wise if we all just hung around here tonight. We can keep looking for stuff tomorrow.” “Maybe Rivet’s right.” Clyde lies back on his bag. “We could use a good night’s sleep for once.” “I guess…” Swift grumbles. Rivet yawns, “I’m still tuckered from last night.” The yawn spreads to the other two like a wave, and they all fall silent. Rivet quitely crawls into his sleeping bag, pulling it up around his neck with a soft, Good night, guys.” They respond in kind and roll into their own bags. Each of them put out their flashlights with soft clicks. The room falls black, and silent. [Timestamp: November 7, 10:31 PM] “Buck it,” Swift mutters to himself, “I can’t sleep until I know what’s going on here for sure.” The Infrared light is now giving the shot it’s green glow, and the familiar hallway leading to the foals room fills the frame. Swift is alone, his breathing and the clicking of his hooves on the tile are the only sounds that can be heard. The door creaks lightly as he opens it, and he stands once again in the foal’s room. The camera swings to the usual chest in the corner, locked and closed as it had been when he entered before. He stops for a moment, and everything goes silent. “I…” Swift looks for the words, whispering into the microphone. “Hold on… The pictures… I took them out of the box two nights ago, and knocked them over. But last night they were back in the box. I took them out again today. But…” He gulps audibly. “Let’s get this over with.” He reaches down, placing the camera in the same position as before, and turns the key in the chest. [Camera 1] “Oh, come on, Swift…” Clyde mutters. The night-vision shot of the waiting room shows Swift’s sleeping bag, unzipped and empty of it’s occupant. “You are such a liar.” Clyde turns the camera to face the sleeping Rivet. The shot zooms in on Rivet’s face, drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth as he sleeps soundly. “He’s like a little baby,” Clyde mocks, “but he was really tired. I should let him be.” The camera levels out. “I should go find Swift. He said something about the files, so he’s probably down in the basements looking for more spooky stories to prove.” Clyde begins quietly clicking over to the stairwell to the lower levels. [Timestamp: November 7, 10:40 PM] Swift shuffles through the pictures, going one by one. He stops, pauses to think, and takes all but the last picture out of the pile. The sound of chattering laughter and static scream through the room and die out as soon as they came. “Why won’t you ever answer me?” Swift gulps, holding the picture tightly, and turns to face the mare standing behind him. Her mane is perfectly straight, except for the loose strands blowing in an invisible wind. Her big eyes stare sadly at Swift as she stands shyly in her hospital gown. “Don’t you like them?” Swift takes a deep breath and holds up the picture of the mare, stallion and foal. “Y-yes.” “You do?” Her eyes open wider. “It… It’s v-very nice.” [Camera 1] The metal stairs creak and moan as Clyde comes to the second basement. The sounds of a separate, distant squealing of metal in the halls drifts into the stairwell. “Swift? Are you in here?” No answer comes. Clyde continues through the door and into the hall. Looking around, he attempts to find the room where the sound is coming from. A quiet, feminine voice sings merrily in the distance. “Well, my little filly dear, don’t you guess, Better be making your special dress, Special dress, special dress, Better be making your special dress.” Clyde halts in his path, listening intently. Slowly, he proceeds down the hall, finding the source of the singing. Room B2-03. Clyde opens the door with a shrill creek and steps inside. All of the racks on the wall are pulled out, and the body of the mare is exposed, fabric draping over the sides of the table. The singing is more concentrated in the room, and Clyde continues to search for the source. “Well, it’s already made, trimmed in red, Stitched and sewn with blood red thread, Blood red thread, Blood red thread, Stitched and sewn with blood red thread.” The camera scans the room, the infrared light glints off of something in the corner. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be a gramophone, and a record spins slowly on the deck. Clyde chuckles, “Swift, you’re such a jerk,” and pulls the needle off of the record, silencing the tune, and returning the room to peace. “Swift!” Clyde calls, “where are you hiding?” [Timestamp: November 7, 10:48 PM] “What… Happened to you?” Swift asks quietly. “What do you mean?” “W-why are you here?” “Because it’s after light’s out, of course. And the nurse would be very mad if I left.” “What?” “She’s evil. She wants me dead.” “The nurse does?” “She wants us all dead. But me most of all. More than me, she hates my foals.” “What foals?” Swift shifts uneasily. “The foals all around us right now. They like you, I think.” The room is filled with the chattering and the mare giggles slightly. “But that nurse thinks they don’t exist. She thinks they’re in my head. Everytime I try to have fun with them, she comes in and makes them go away.” “How does she do that?” “She puts the block in my mouth, and makes me put the halo on…” “The-the what?” “The halo makes the lights dim, and then I start shaking, and everything hurts, and it feels like I’m being crushed. I-I start-start to scream!” The mare begins shrieking uncontrollably and thrashing about. Swift falls to the floor, the camera dropping to the ground for a moment before he picks it up. “IT HURTS SO MUCH! MAKE IT STOP!” Swift’s breath is heavy and fast on the microphone. The mare freezes mid-thrash, and slowly returns to her natural stance. “Then everything goes black. And when I wake up… All of my foals are gone…” “That’s… A-awful…” [Camera 3] “You guys suck. I thought we agreed we would stay here tonight.” Rivet grumbles into the camera, back at the camp. “But no. Screw what Rivet thinks, lets go out and scare ourselves to death. I won’t be able to sleep with those two jerks out running around. I might as well scare myself too!” [Camera 1] “Swift? Where are you at?” Suddenly, the music comes back on, and the female voice begins to sing again. “Well she wouldn’t say yes and she wouldn’t say no…” Clyde turns back to the gramophone, but the record does not turn, and the needle is still on the rack. “What in the…” Clyde puts his head close to the gramophone, but no music is coming from it. “All she’d do was sit and sew…” “Swift?” The camera scans the room, stopping on a small swatch of fabric laying on the floor. “What’s…” He clops over to it, picking it up in his hoof and holding it to the camera lens. “What’s this doing down here?” Clyde takes a closer peek at the swatch. “Silk...? This is really expensive stuff…” “Sit and sew, sit and sew, All she’d do was…” “Where is that coming from?” “Sit.” A rattling can be heard, like a motor running in the distance, but charging ever closer to the camera. “Swift?” Clyde calls out. “And.” “Who’s there!?” Clyde scans more frantically. “Sew!” The light sound of crying can be heard in the room, and Clyde whips around to see a unicorn mare with a flowing mane sitting on the ground. She holds a bundle of cloth tightly to her, and her head is nearly pressed to it. Upon closer inspection, the fabric has dark stains on multiple spots. Clyde gulps. “H-hello?” The unicorn continues to cry, her face scratched on one tear stained cheek. She leans down and kisses the bundle of cloth in her hooves. “A-are you o…” Clyde stops and focuses on the bundle, which seems to be pulsating slightly. “Ruined… Ruined…” The unicorn cries. Clyde takes a step back. “Miss?” The unicorn ceases to cry. The room falls eerily silent and still. Slowly, she raises her head to lock eyes with Clyde. Her face contorts to an image of pure rage as she screams, “RUINED!” With her scream, she drops the bundle to the floor with a loud thump. The bundle rolls to show a filly with her eyes open wide as her head falls unnaturally to one side, slapping against the hard floor. The filly’s mouth is open, her face frozen in terror, but no sound or breathing come from her. “Oh shi-” Clyde doesn’t wait to finish his words before charging from the room, his powerful legs driving him further and further. [Camera 3] Rivet is sitting at the desk in Doctor Chlorohoof’s office, more reverently than before. His posture is tired, but not as relaxed as before. Two files are sprawled on the table under the journal. “Okay…” Rivet takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes. “I am getting nowhere. A nurse who had a traumatic accident, we know this already. A severely disturbed patient is what I need to find. But where…” Rivet cracks his joints before returning to the task at hand. “November 7, The patient seems to be getting worse. Originally, I thought it would be helpful. It sounds cruel, but my thought was that if her mind associated the EST with seeing the foals, it would eventually cause her to stop seeing them. Even if that weren’t the case, the EST could treat whatever illness was causing the foals to appear in the first place. But the number she is subjected to-It’s unimaginable what she must be going through. I will need to have a talk with the nurse. However, with all the treatment, she is still not recovering from them. She awakes from the treatment and cries because the foals aren’t there. It is heartbreaking to see her so. In my mind, I feel that treatment should stop. She has little chance of recovery, and the foals she sees aren’t doing her any harm. Perhaps we should consider just keeping her as a permanent resident. Doctor Chlorohoof, MD.” “I wish he would leave years. That would help me find which bloody file to look for!” Rivet slams the book closed. “I’m overtired. The guys are going to hear about this tomorrow.” As he slammed it, a picture fell out from one of the files, and another got pushed off of the desk. Rivet groans as he picks up the folder, “Hello, crazy nurse number three.” He then bends down to pick up the picture that fluttered to the ground. “Who are you?” He turns the picture over. “Straight pink mane… Just like…” His eyes go wide. “Just like the mare Swift was-Where’s her file!?” Rivet shuffles the papers until he finds the correct file. “The room number is right. How could he dream of her? He’s never seen her.” Rivet seems to be working himself into a panic. He slides the picture into his saddlebag and stands up from the desk, grabbing the camera. [Timestamp: November 7, 10:53 PM] “Awful…” Swift stammers. “But since she’s in charge,” the mare shakes her head slowly, “no one dares to question her.” Swift takes a deep breath and holds up the picture. “What is this?” “Oh, that?” the mare cocks her head, “It’s a picture the nice Doctor told me to draw. He said I should make a picture of what I will be like when I get out of here.” “When… When you get out?” “Mhmm.” She nods. “That’s me, and my very own foal. And that must be you.” “M-me?” Swift almost chokes on the words. “Yeah. I always imagined an angel would come and take me away from here. That’s you, isn’t it? You’re my angel? And you’ve come to take me away?” “M-me?” Swift repeats. “You even have the wings of an angel. I said you would come, but the nurse told me no one would ever come for me.” “Which n-nurse?” “That nurse,” the mare spits, “the one who likes the machines in the basement!” “The one who makes dresses?” The mare cocks her head. “No. She’s a nice nurse. And she’s a really pretty singer.” “There’s another nurse?” “She doesn’t have a heart. She’s a monster.” “A… Monster?” Swift shivers slightly. Suddenly, a wind rips through the room, and a light buzzing noise accompanies it. The sound of static comes over the microphone, and hangs in the air even when the wind dies out. Swift seems to shiver, as the camera vibrates. A few puffs, like warm breath on a cold day, drift in front of the camera. Swift takes a deep breath and lets it out, creating another puff. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” A mare’s angry voice drifts through the static. Swift searches for a source, but finds none in the room. “My angel!” The mare with the straight mane shouts back. “How many times do I have to tell you!? There is no angel! No one will ever come for you! No one will ever love you!” “That’s not true! He’s right here!” The mare points at Swift. “It looks like you need another session.” The voice sighs. “But you have to take your medicine.” “No! Not another! Please!” “Listen, bitch. You don’t have a choice. I’m in charge here. Now move!” Her voice makes the room rumble. “No! He’s real! I swear! He’s right here!” “NOW!” A screeching fills the air as the mare screams. The wind begins to gust again. Like sand, the mare with the straight mane begins to be blown aside by the wind, slowly fading from view. Her scream still hangs heavy on the air as her image finally disappears. As the static fades from the audio, only Swift’s heavy breathing exists in the dark room. [Camera 1] Clyde’s panting can be heard. The camera is pointed at the tile floor, the infrared light reflecting brightly. Clyde stands still, apparently being content with the distance he ran from the morgue, or being too tired to go any further. “Please…” Clyde gasps. “Please tell me I’m not going insane.” The room is filled with the sound of hooves charging up the metal stairs. Clyde drops his camera and stands back, the view is inverted and aimed at the stairwell. He starts to take deep breaths and stands still. The door slams open as Rivet slides into the room, letting out a small yell, presumably when he sees Clyde. “Don’t do that!” Rivet shouts, “You almost gave me a heart attack!” Clyde coughs and speaks. “Rivet! Man, am I glad to see you!” Rivet cocks an eyebrow, “I’m happy to see you too.” He looks Clyde over for a moment. “Are you alright?” “I saw something down there,” Clyde huffs. “I saw something too, and I think Swift needs to see it.” Rivet picks up Clyde’s camera and helps Clyde to his feet. [Timestamp: November 7, 11:03 PM] “I am not…” Swift whispers, “I am not going insane.” Swift holds the camera aimed down at the pile of scattered papers on the tile floor. His breathing is normal now, but he doesn’t move from his spot. “Please. Someone tell me I’m not going insane.” “Swift!” Two voices call from outside of the room. The frantic sound of hooves running in the hall echoes into the room. He raises the camera to view the two ponies standing in the doorway. Rivet and Clyde are both panting, Clyde more than Rivet, and they look into the room with their eyes wide and worried. Rivet steps inside. “Swift. I found that girl you were talking about. She’s the patient Doctor Chlorohoof was talking about.” “So?” Swift grumbles. “Rivet, I…” “What?” Rivet takes a step forward. “I…” Swift fights to get the words out, “I saw her.” “In your dream?” Rivet’s face seems to drop. “Please tell me you mean in your dream.” “A few minutes ago.” Swift mutters. “In this room.” “Swift, that’s nuts.” Rivet nervously forces a chuckle, “Stop fooling around.” “He’s not nuts.” Clyde steps in behind Rivet. “I believe him.” “Why?” Rivet turns to him, and pauses for a moment. “Who… Did you see her too?” “Not her,” Clyde shakes his head, “The Dressmaker.” “The body in the basement?” “She wasn’t a body. She was moving, and… Crying.” “There’s something seriously wrong here.” Rivet states. “I think we should leave.” “Do you believe me?” Swift asks. “I-I-I’m not sure what to think.” Rivet shakes his head. “Maybe you’re both crazy, maybe I’m crazy, maybe there’s a gas leak, I don’t know! I’m too tired and scared to think. Let’s just get out of this hell-hole, and sleep outside tonight.” “I’d rather get as far away from here as possible.” Clyde states, “But we can’t travel in the dark. There’s no way to navigate.” “Please, let’s just go.” Swift begs, “I’m freaking out here.” The three of them nod and head back towards the waiting room. The traverse the tile halls in silence. It seems as if any noise would provoke another appearance, and they listen for the tell-tale signs. Rivet, though he has not seen anything, seems the most nervous of any of them. After they descend the stairway, they are once again in their camp, just as they had left it. “Let’s get our stuff together and get out.” Swift states. They all do as he said, gathering their sleeping bags and belongings together in their packs and throwing them on. As soon as the last pack landed on the last back, they made their way towards the doors of the waiting room, and through them into the foyer. Rivet leads the way as they head towards the exit doors. The doors themselves are steel, with a small porthole with wires running through it to make it shatter-proof. Rivet steps up and shoves on the crashbars with all of his might, but the doors do not budge. “What the hell!?” Rivet begins panting. “They won’t open!” Clyde steps up and shoves on the doors along side of Rivet, with the same result. “Shit.” Clyde hisses. “They’re stuck!” “Give me the keys.” Clyde turns to Rivet, who immediately begins to rifle through his bag for them. When his hoof emerges with the keys, Clyde pulls them out of his hoof immediately and begins to work at the crashbars. After several attempts, he gives up and tosses the keys back to Rivet. “It’s no use.” Clyde groans. “Looks like we’ll have to camp here tonight, and try again in the morning.” “We can’t stay here!” Swift shouts. “They haven’t done anything to us,” Rivet reasons, “Maybe we’ll be fine tonight. All they’ve done is scare us. Probably unintentionally. Swift, remember what you told us about Death Echoes?” “What about them?” Swift calms slightly. “You said,” Rivet pauses to think, “That they relive the moment of their death again and again, right?” “Yeah, so?” “What if that’s what these are doing? What if all it is is just an echo? They can’t hurt us if they’re just doing the same thing over and over.” “But she looked at me,” Swift replies, “and she talked to me. Death Echoes just do the same thing. She spoke to me. That nurse… She didn’t seem to notice me. She might be a Death Echo.” “The Dressmaker didn’t really look at me, so much as through me, I think.” Clyde recalls, “Maybe she’s one too.” “Does that make you guys feel a little better?” Rivet asks. Swift sighs. “Being able to give it a name helps.” “Good.” Rivet nods. “Then let’s set up. We’re sleeping here tonight.”
