The Trotsburg Files

[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]