November 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.