Quiet Valley

The door clacked shut, followed by the sound of a soft click. Vergil, noticing the extra noise, turned to the door behind him and gripped the handle. It was locked. Was that why the door was wide open? Before he could ponder the reasons beyond the initial question, he noticed a note at eye level, taped to the door.

Warning
Door is broken. Do not shut.

Vergil clicked his tongue. Of all the rotten luck in the world, it had to be the kind that locks himself inside of an industrial complex. Despite his gripes, the thoughts were laid to rest the moment he realized something crucial. He HEARD the click of the door. If he was not mistaken, this building was a water treatment plant. At least, that's what the map told him when he wasted his time crossing out dead ends while heading to the clock tower. If his location was correct, he should be hearing the sound of machines working on the water it was pumping in and out of the facility.

Instead, it was dead silent.

Vergil turned back around, only noticing how dark it was inside, save for a dim red light that hovered over a shelf, which held a few objects he couldn't immediately discern. Slowly, Vergil moved forward, feeling the metallic clack of the industrial grating below his hooves, soon finding that metal grating stairs were leading a short a distance down to a concrete floor. Approaching the shelf, he finally noticed what actually sat there. Dusty emergency equipment haphazardly lined the dimly lit platform, with a sign just below the little red light. "Notice: For use during a power outage only", it read. Among the items available was a small flashlight attached to a lanyard.

Picking up the flashlight, he tested the button, expecting something that collected this much dust to be unusable, or at least assumed the strange energies of the fog-filled town perhaps would keep it from working. He was mildly surprised that it did indeed turn on with no dimming present. With proper light at his disposal, he investigated the room he was in. Surely, there had to be some sort of fire escape map somewhere around that he could use. It would certainly be better than fumbling around in the dark with only the limited view of the flashlight to guide his path. Sure enough, after searching what seemed to be the boot/storage room, he located the map he was looking for, which sat opposite of the emergency shelf. Ripping it from its pins, he scanned the layout briefly, before folding the map and placing it into his pocket, right with the map of the town.

Considering the contents he saw, his hunch about where he was in the building was correct, with a corridor leading away from the boot/storage room. On either side of the hallway, two large rooms presented themselves: one, a room full of water filtration devices and machines lined up for their specific jobs and purposes, and the other labeled "control room". Heading further down all the way to the other end would present the front entrance of the building, and a hard right would lead down another hallway, this time with doors to a few offices that keep the building's maintenance and logistics organized. At least, that's what he assumed. The map itself just labeled said rooms as "Office 1, Office 2, Office 3", with a set of washrooms and two changing rooms on the farthest spot.

However, none of that really mattered. Vergil simply needed the exit, so he could continue on his haphazard route to the clock tower. In that sense, he proceeded out of storage and entered the first hallway, with nothing but the sound of his hooves clacking against the hard concrete keeping him company. The echos of his hooffalls became far more eerie than he had anticipated, considering the abject silence of the machinery that should have been deafening in a place like this. Either, this town was truly a ghost town, or there was something far more sinister going on, and considering his personal history and current (forced) profession, he couldn't rule out the latter. Not after the monster attacks he endured until now.

"Monsters," he muttered with disgust as he slowly cantered down the dark hallway, keeping his guard up. Honestly, that's all he could really call them. They certainly weren't demons. Not demons in the same sense of what he was used to. There was a certain level of intelligence that creatures of the Underworld (or in the case of Equestria, Tartarus) possessed, even with some of the more animalistic and feral breeds. But the things in this town? Intelligence wasn't something he could feel coming from them. Very "non-demonic", or even sapient, he reasoned. There was something fundamentally... off. He couldn't quite pin down what exactly was bothering him so much about them, but his intuition was telling him they were far more dangerous than he was making them out to be, despite his bravado and distant view of them.

As he continued to ponder over those creatures, he soon reached his destination: a set of double doors that lead outside. The supposed front entrance to the building, and his exit. Placing his hoof against the surface, he gave a nudge, only for it to firmly deny his attempt at leaving. The sound of chains clattered as the door shook from his efforts, causing him to back off and take a proper look at the doors he was pushing against. Lo and behold, the door was tied shut by a set of chains bolted and criss-crossed along the surface. Heavy locks were placed where loose chain links meet, obviously there to keep everything more secured than necessary. It was quite the intimidation factor for any normal individual.

How droll, he thought sarcastically. Pulling his blade from its scabbard, he took aim at the chains and swung with all his might. The disappointing sound of clattering links and the sudden stop of his blade made the half-demon wince in shame. He wasn't going to be able to cut his way out of this one.

First, that monster. Now this, he bitterly lamented. Sheathing his blade, he gave a defeated sigh, realizing he's likely going to have to try to get out of this facility the hard way. This also meant the child he came across is likely locked in here, somewhere in the dark. Locating the young boy to usher him out to safety would be a priority. If something were to happen to him...

The sound of fluttering paper caught his attention, as well as the touch of it sweeping at his hooves. Looking down, he noticed a folded up, slightly dirty note that obviously wasn't there before. Picking it up, he unfolded the paper, and read the contents inside.

despair is like a sea
but the source of life it be
chase shadows for your hints
don't dawdle in your stints
bring power to gears true
and let engines roar to
purify water for keys to find
and the exit shall unbind

His face scrunched in confusion and annoyance. "A riddle?" he blurted with a sneer. It was all but certain now. Something was DEFINITELY wrong with the town itself. His eyes trailed back to the chained doors, looking upon the locks. He gazed back to the note, figuring he's going to need to go on a little scavenger hunt if he wants out. Slipping the note into another of his pockets, he fixed his jacket, and decided it would be best to search the offices first. It was then that the sound of light ringing could be heard, along with the underlying crackling of white noise. It was an altogether different sound from what the monsters outside produced, but it still put him on high alert. He started by whirling around to look down the hallway behind him, seeing nothing but the empty corridor. He then turned his attention left, which was previously to the right when he was still facing the doors, and caught something darting away from view with a panicked squeak, disappearing into the shadows and away from the light he cast.

Vergil then ripped the radio out of his pocket, checking to make sure he was hearing things correctly. Sure enough, the sound slowly grew quieter, up until it altogether became silent. The radio was still on.

If the device in his hooves was to be believed, whatever it was, it was most definitely gone. Or, at least, far enough away from the radio to be detected. He placed it back inside of his pocket, and pushed his vigilance, keeping his guard up on the off chance something attempts an ambush. In a small, tight space with little room to maneuver, I cannot afford any major fights. Not while I'm still... woefully debilitated. The light pain in his slightly injured leg kept reminding him.

Cautiously, he proceeded down the new hall towards the offices. As he came upon the first room, he noticed the light ringing sound once again, although it was a fair bit distant. He glanced further down the hall, only to notice nothing more than his own light and the fading darkness at the edge of the flashlight's 'cone'. Whatever was making the radio produce that ringing sound was not in the hallway. Regardless, he opted to test the first door, only to be met with firm resistance. It was jammed.

He shook his head, and proceeded to Office 2, which caused the ringing to slowly grow in volume the closer he approached the door. With great caution and guarded hesitation, he slowly gripped the door with one hoof while pressing the pommel of Yamato with the other, and opened it suddenly.

There was a surprised squeak as something darted past Vergil before he could properly react, and disappear towards the changing rooms. The light ringing grew quiet once again, but didn't quite disappear like before, likely because he was still close enough for the radio to pick up its presence. He gazed towards the rooms in question, only deciding whatever it was that eluded him was none of his concern at the moment. Instead, he turned his attention to the opened office, and decided to investigate first, shutting the door behind him as he entered Office 2.

Once inside, he used his hoof to manipulate the flashlight hanging off of the lanyard around his neck, and scanned the room slowly. While it was slightly messy, it most certainly was an office space with all the classic fixings; desk, typewriter, bookshelf, filing cabinet, pointless generic artwork hanging on the wall. He was quite surprised to find very little out of the ordinary. The only thing warranting his attention was a note that was pinned to the desk. It was a memo, dirty and ratty, with parts scratched out, seemingly addressed to the worker of this office.

To Mr. ------------

The -------- -re on the fritz again. I need -- ETA on when the repair ----- will show up. I can't keep ----- the wrench on the --------, and I can't keep bugging Spark for the wrench every time this happens. I swear, the -------- here are useless when it comes to fix--- --------. You need to hire more capable ponies that can actually -

The memo became illegible near the end. Below the note, however, was a document that detailed locker assignments for what seemed to be the employees of the facility. A stroke of luck at the very least. until Vergil actually looked over said document. Assigned lockers did not have full names displayed on the page. Only initials, and five of them had the letter "S", to which all affected initials were listed in the stallion changing room.

Blasted pony names, Vergil thought bitterly as he retrieved the locker assignment document and circled the five lockers that could potentially be "Spark's". Before he exited the office, he gave the room one last look over, trying to find anything else that could be of use. With nothing present that piqued his interest, the half-devil approached the door and entered the hall once again.

There, beyond the door of Office 2, the light sound of ringing and distant white noise flared up again, reminding the Sparda-kin that he wasn't alone in the facility and he has yet to identify whatever was trying to flee him. Or make me follow, he considered. It wasn't a complete stretch of a notion, especially considering the note with the riddle.

Despite the obvious path to take, Vergil opted to finish checking the rooms immediate to him first before he would go gallivanting into the changing room. Though, upon checking Office 3, he noticed that, while tidier than Office 2, the room had nothing immediately useful to him. Save for what seemed to be a medical kit, sitting conspicuously on the filing cabinet. Vergil raised an eyebrow at the idea of a random small pack of medical supplies, even wondering the odds of anything inside still being usable. Slowly and with an air of curiosity, he approached the package, grabbed it from its seating place, and brought it closer for inspection.

The first thing to note was that it had very little dust on it, as if it were put there rather recently, which was odd in of itself, especially in comparison to what he saw in the town so far. The second is that, once opened, all of the supplies inside seemed fresh, with rubbing and disinfecting alcohol vials being labeled to expire years from now.

The twinge in his leg made his eye twitch ever so slightly, causing his gaze to drift towards the wound for a moment before looking back to the opened kit. With an irritated sigh, he sat down on one of the chairs, retrieved the disinfectant vial, some gauze, and a few clips to keep the wrapping in place. He quickly dressed the wound, and pocketed the medical fabric, casting away the rest of the open package with little care. I don't believe I'll have use for the rest of the kit, whatever little is there, but the remaining gauze might be useful to change the wound later, he reasoned. As loathsome as the act was, there was something nostalgic about tending to an injury, though he had never needed to do so while he was on his own before now.

On my own...

Vergil shook his head with a growl, dispersing the surfacing memory. Rising back up to his hooves, he decided it was time to follow the clue. He exited Office 3 and made a beeline towards the changing room, causing the radio to quickly pick up in sound and pitch. Upon opening the door and stepping inside, there was a loud squeak and something skittering further back in the room. Vergil paused, standing under the arch of the doorway, gazing about the room and using the flashlight to try to get a better look around. He noticed a small... "something", just out of reach of the light's cone, trying to stay out of the illuminated area, moving only when the light got too close.

Vergil watched this behavior carefully for a moment, slowly moving the flashlight back and forth, observing the shadowed out presence staying out of the light to the best of its ability. It was then that the devil pony, ever so gingerly, shut off the light. There was a light squeak, but the sound of fleeing did not follow like the last few encounters. Slowly and gingerly, Vergil walked forward, carefully letting his eyes adjust to the stark darkness, as the radio grew louder and louder. It was then that he was able to finally see the little dark shape that had eluded him while the noise reached fever-pitch. The small entity was indeed a dark mass in the vague shape of a small colt, or perhaps a foal, with deep black pits where eyes should be. It reminded him of the boy. It was a creature similar to the type of shadow demons he had seen once upon his life, though this one seemed entirely benign.

"Damn," he uttered as he backed away from the shadow. Before he turned on the light, he began to hear something.

Where's mom?...

Vergil froze, recognizing the voice, as he turned back around to the vague child shaped being. It couldn't be. His next move was automatic, as his hoof turned the flashlight on once more, directly at the little thing before him. The effect was instant, as the shadow, now entirely visible in the light, gave a loud screech, before suddenly bolting away, disappearing just before it was able to leave the room. The radio's noise followed suit, suddenly stopping mere seconds later. Vergil stared at the path the little thing took for a moment, wondering more about what had just transpired, until his brow furrowed in irritation. As his gaze returned to where the shadow was, there was a glitter in the light before him. Approaching it, he noticed it was a small set of keys, reflecting the flashlight's own shine. Vergil collected the keys from the ground, and began to look them over, noticing strips of tape along the heads, written initials in ink.

They weren't the keys he was ultimately looking for, but he surmised they were necessary never-the-less. He was only glad he didn't waste his time searching for and testing the lockers beforehand. He decided to move towards the row furthest from the entrance, on the off chance that what he's looking for was further back.

With the locker assignment document and locker keys at the ready, Vergil moved up and down the rows, checking the initials and numbers before trying the corresponding key. The first attempt was a dud. A normal, simple locker with a few personal items: work clothes, goggles, hard hat, and a lunch box. The second door he tried was entirely jammed. Worse, the key ended up getting stuck, forcing Vergil to remove the key from the ring with a grumble. He then came to the third locker, which had absolutely nothing in it.

Leaving the farthest row, Vergil made his way towards the set of lockers closer to the changing room entrance, heading for the fourth locker he needed to try, until he heard something metallic slam, followed by a whining creak. His eyes momentarily shifted towards the direction of the offending sound, which was in the far row, likely one of the middle lockers, before turning back to his current objective. Only a fool would investigate that. Vergil then considered his brother, and gave a smug smirk. With no more distractions, Vergil opened the locker he was at and found a sweater-vest with a piece of paper sticking out of the chest pocket. He sneered for a moment before closing the door, and moving to the final locker on the list.

Upon opening it however, he found yet another dead end in his scavenger hunt, once again with nothing of note or use inside. He slammed the locker door shut, slightly denting the metal, growling in frustration. As his irritation subsided, he realized there were only two other options available to him, both he had just overlooked.

Moving back to the locker with the sweater-vest, he reached inside and took the paper, deciding to read it.

They're there on the other side. They can see us while we see ourselves. The grinding is getting worse. Dear Celestia, it's like I'm drowning. You should know it too. Sweet, sweet agony.

Vergil's eyebrow perked up from the utter nonsense this scrap of paper was reporting. With a disgusted sneer, he crumpled the paper and tossed it aside. With no other options left, he retraced his steps back to the other row of lockers, only to be met by quite the gruesome site; the locker door, the one that was previously jammed, now ajar, and the area immediately in front of it, from floors and the bench before the still squeaking metal door to the back of the first row lockers, was entirely painted in red. Vergil could smell the distinct odor of iron, understanding what the crimson stain really was. On the bench, however, ever so gently soaking in the dripping mess, was a wrench. Cautiously, Vergil approached the tool, his hooves squelching from the stain, and took it up. He wasn't entirely sure of how it could be handy, but he remembered that the memo mentioned something was in need of repair.

He then exited the changing room and headed for the washroom, taking the time to clean his hooves off, as well as the wrench he took. For a building with little power, it's a miracle plumbing still works, he mused. After he was satisfied and his hooves were clean and dry, he took the facility map out of his coat and looked it over once more. He was very swiftly reminded that, despite its importance, this facility wasn't exactly a large one, seemingly only built for the sake of its purpose, and little else. Thus, realistically, he only had two options before him; the machine room and the control room. Not knowing what his task will be, he opted to follow the corridor path until he reached the door that lead to the two rooms. Picking the left door, he entered the control room, which had a console with a variety of gauges and buttons, most likely to help regulate and monitor the filtration systems. There was also a set of screens above it, likely for security and monitoring cameras.

It was a bit odd seeing such devices here in this room, especially since it was rare to encounter modern technology in the land of Equestria, however that didn't necessarily mean this world didn't have such things. He recalled the disk jocky pony that lived with the violinist, as well as the arcade in Ponyville where some of the children like to visit. Film reels existed, and so did photography cameras, in a few different stages of sophistication no less. Radios were the popular form of home media entertainment, but he wouldn't be surprised if one day one of these Equines would come up with the concept of television. Seeing this here and now made that likelihood a certainty.

However, it ultimately didn't matter to him. The machine itself was more than enough to drive his curiosity on the sole idea of its involvement in his little quest. Checking the console up and down, he eventually came to a panel with bolts screwed in tight. Using the wrench, he unscrewed the bolts and removed the panel, revealing what seemed to be five uniformed holes with four objects. There was also a note taped inside. Taking the note, Vergil scanned its contents, which were surprisingly brief.

Red is hollow

Another scrap with nonsense, which Vergil tossed to the side, only to stare at the plugs and holes. He remained there for a moment, trying to figure how this would work, only to try and blindly start plugging each of the presented items into each of the holes. Eventually, after some trial and error, he hit the correct combination with a single plug left open in the center. The machine around him whirred to life, generating a dull, industrial buzz of technological activity. Vergil, leaving the open panel, made his way towards the front of the console, and observed it. The screens above showed not only the water treatment room, but also the current room he was in, the storage/boot room, and the front entrance. Other monitors were off. As he gazed at the buttons with no idea which one was used for what specific purpose, an alarm bell sounded for a few seconds, as the printer on the far end began spitting out some papers, along with a small key, strangely enough. Vergil cantered over to the readouts, and scanned the contents. Most of it was technical jargon he couldn't quite piece together, but it seemed to be an error report. What he could understand was that power wasn't reaching the filtration machines in the other room, and a manual investigation was necessary.

Picking the key up off the floor, he realized whatever was going on here, whatever force was influencing this place, was guiding him on this path. The thought of such control over him sickened him, but he had very little choice but to play along. He wouldn't have the chance to leave if he actively and openly defied whatever was pulling the strings.

Exiting the control room, he stepped over to the opposite door and tested the handle. Locked. Pulling the small key from his pocket, he used it on the door with expected success, and opened it, which swung inward to the room. Before him was a very short flight of industrial metal stairs that lead to quite the large and open area. His hooves clacked on the metal grating as he descended, before he landed upon the standard cement flooring that was present through the building. Before him was a set of rather sophisticated looking piece of machinery, each of which were very distinct in design and function, and each of them evidently a link in the process of cleaning the town's water supply. At least, that's what he was assuming, based on the map's name of the facility.

Looking them over, they didn't seem to be in disrepair and, at first glance, they all looked relatively well connected. Due to the control room now being online, even some lights had turned on to illuminate the machine room to a degree. However, the control room console clearly stated power wasn't reaching these machines, so on he searched. After looking over each device carefully, he finally found the problem. The first filtering system, a giant vat of a device that was labeled the "macro-filter", was missing a connection. A connection that was simply laying upon the concrete floor, as if it were haphazardly pulled and left behind. Picking the plug up, he pulled it over to the open port and reconnected it, bringing the machine suddenly back to life.

As the industrial noise slowly began to pick up and rushing water could be heard muffled through the piping, Vergil backed away, wondering what was supposed to happen next. How is this supposed to get me out of this wretched place?

Piercing through the cacophonous sounds of waking machinery, the only door to and from this room suddenly slammed shut, earning Vergil's immediate attention. He gazed at the door for a moment, only to hear something far worse a moment later. Flooding water.

He turned around and saw the macro-filter, the machine he just turned back on, begin to flood over the top of the vat's lip, spilling onto the floor at an alarming rate. Vergil raced up the metallic stairs as quick as he could and gripped the door, trying to pull it open with all his might. The door wouldn't budge. He checked the lock, only to find the lock wasn't even being used right now. He slammed his weight against the door over and over, repeatedly trying to force it open, utilizing the natural strength of the Equestiran body he was cursed with, to no avail. As he continued to do so, the sound of rushing water grew stronger and stronger as, for the first time in a long time, panic began to set in. He was trapped, without his powers, and very, VERY mortal. Fighting against monsters was one thing, but this was something he had no hope to take control against.

Before the water could reach the final step Vergil was on, suddenly the door bashed inward, colliding with the devil pony's body with violent torque, launching him away from the passage and into the flooding water. Just before he hit the water, dazed eyes managed to get a glimpse of what assailed him. A dark, blood red... thing, with glowing crimson eyes and twice his height stood in the frame, watching him fall.

Colliding with the water's surface took an immediate effect. Vergil's world at the time, filled with industrial noise and rushing water, suddenly became quiet and muffled, as he began to sink deeper and deeper, physically paralyzed in his daze. His vision became harsh, and the little light that managed to pierce the surface of the water became distant and dim. Further and further he sank as he struggled to hold his breath and recollect his rattled thoughts, only for muffled voices to reach him. Voices not unfamiliar to him.

Vergil, where are you?

Happy Birthday, Vergil!

Please, play nice you two...

There was a sudden sense of vertigo, as his descent grew rapid and the feeling of crashing through the waters surface collided with his back. From the water he fell, like yolk leaving the protective shell of an egg, and slammed against metal grid-iron. The pain of the impact was immediate, knocking the air out of his system as he spat out water he had inadvertently swallowed while drowning. Coughing and curling up against himself, he tried to keep his mind off the relentless agony, trying to deny the very mortal side of him, laying on uncomfortable metal, soaking wet, and in the dark like a scared, little child.