I stand anxiously at the front door, my knuckles a bit sore from knocking a little too hard a few seconds ago.
“One moment!” a mare calls from inside, immediately followed by the sound of hooves coming down stairs. The door swings open and I’m greeted by a mare that’s slightly taller than me, dressed in a black skirt and a white blouse with the top three buttons undone. She has a two-tone pink mane, paired nicely with her fuchsia coat. “Are you the writer?” she asks with a bright smile.
I’m speechless for a moment, before I remember myself. I tug lightly on the neck of my sweater, trying to return her warm expression. “Y-yes ma’am,” I manage to choke out. “Gigi Foalivetti, Ma’am.”
“Well, then, come right on in!” She steps aside and gestures for me to come in.
“Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me, Miss Cheerilee,” I say to her as she leads me into her small house. It isn’t much of a house, but she’s a teacher in a small town, so I can’t really say much about it.
“Oh, it’s not that big of a deal,” she answers sweetly, stopping and gesturing towards a large couch in her living room. “To be honest, I’m a little surprised you even know about the incident. How old did you say you were, Mister Foalivetti?”
“I didn’t, but I’m twenty four, just out of Canterlot U,” I tell her with an awkward scratch of my head. It’s apparent to anyone looking at me that I’m extremely nervous. To think, it’s so early in my career and I’m getting such a huge story as this! It’s mind blowing!
She flashes another sweet smile at me as we both take a seat. She sits in an armchair across from the couch and puts her knees together in a demure fashion. She seems so polite and cheerful… She can’t really be the mare I’d read about… can she?
“So, what’s first?” she asks as I pull my recording equipment out of my satchel. Thankfully, it’s newer, so it’s not quite as heavy as the one I learned to operate in school. It’s a meager five pounds; very portable.
“Well, you may not have any experience with these, but this is an auditory recording device. A lot of ponies use these in inter–” She holds up a hand and cuts me off. Still smiling, she narrows her eyes and gives me a glare so chilling, it makes my skin crawl.
“I know how to use a tape recorder, Mister Foalivetti,” she says, her voice sweet like poisoned candy. Any doubt I’d had about her has completely evaporated. I can feel the icy cold steel of her will cutting through the air as she speaks her next words. “I’m not so old that I haven’t used modern technology. In fact, I’m quite offended you would even entertain that thought.”
“My apologies, Miss Cheerilee,” I say, bowing my head slightly in respect as I hand her a simple microphone, not unlike those used by singers. “If you’ll hold that for me, I can start getting the recorder set up.”
She nods and takes the mic as I put the recoding tape in the machine. A minute later, a whimper from Miss Cheerilee causes me to look up and see that she’s staring down at the microphone is utter horror.
“Just… like then…” she whispers, her face twisting further as her distress visibly deepens. She lets the mic slip from her hand and fall to the floor, then crosses her arms over her chest and grabs her shoulders. “But… no… coat.”
I hear the door open, and a new voice echoes throughout the house. “Cheer, honey, I’m home!” the voice calls as its owner strides into the living room. Both mine and my subject’s eyes snap to the mare. She’s a bit taller than Miss Cheerilee and has a pale white coat, paired with a light pink mane and tail. She’s wearing a skirted nurse’s uniform. “I stopped and…”
She takes a single look at the mare across from me and the grocery bags in her hands fall to the floor with a resounding thump. There’s the sound of hooves on the hardwood floor as Cheerilee bolts from her chair and wraps her arms around the new mare’s neck.
“Red… your uniform is white…” she says frantically into the white mare’s neck. “Your uniform is white and I don’t have a coat…”
“That’s right, dear,” the other mare says, wrapping her arms tight around Miss Cheerilee’s torso. “My uniform is white, your lab coat is gone, and we live in Ponyville now.”
“He’s gone, right? Tell me he’s gone,” Miss Cheerilee whimpers, her arms visibly tightening around her… Marefriend? Wife? Partner’s neck. “For the love of fucking Celestia, Redheart, tell me the bastard is gone!”
“Should I…” I never finish as Redheart strokes the back of Miss Cheerilee’s head and shushes her softly.
“That’s right. We live in Ponyville now and the Director is gone and we are happy.”
“Tell me he isn't coming back…”
“Never. He’s never coming back. We're safe from him.”
Miss Cheerilee’s arms relax and she falls to her knees, clutching handfuls of the nurse’s skirt on her way down. “Thank you,” she mutters, her voice shaking, but no longer strained in panic.
Miss Redheart helps Miss Cheerilee up and guides her back to the armchair. There’s a look on her face I’ve seen before.
It’s pity.
As Miss Cheerilee takes a several deep breaths to calm down, Miss Redheart gives me a brief glare before trotting into the kitchen.
“So,” Miss Cheerilee says, knocking me out of my daze. “Where were we?”
“Um…” I trail off, uncertain whether or not I should tell her that her microphone is disconnected. “Your, uh, microphone…”
“Oh!” she says softly, grabbing the mic from the floor and resting it in her lap. I can tell that she’s blatantly keeping her eyes away from it and the machine it’s connected to. “Silly me. Red will be back momentarily with some tea. I’m sorry, but all we have is black tea.”
“Um, that’s fine. Are… Are you okay?” I ask cautiously as Miss Redheart sits a cup of tea on the coffee table in front of me.
“Oh, yes!” she says, giving me the same smile I received when she answered her door. “It’s just a bit of post-traumatic stress, that’s all.”
“Uh… huh… Well, why don’t we get started,” I blurt out, hitting the 'record' button on my machine. This immediately earns another glare from Miss Redheart, who I realize may not have wanted to be present for this. “Interview with Doctor–”
“Miss.”
“–Cheerilee, conducted by Gigi Foalivetti. Miss Cheerilee, why don’t you start us off? Tell me a few basic things about yourself.”
“Hello, my name is Cheerilee, age forty two, born in Ponyville. I graduated from the University of Trottingham with top marks, and I immediately went to work as a psychiatrist for the San Palomino Asylum after my residency in Ponyville.”
“How did you get the job?”
“I was actually approached with the offer, believe it or not. It came with living quarters, access to a personal telephone, a chauffer to and from nearby Las Pegasus, and a six figure salary to boot. Who, in their right mind, would refuse?”
“Nopony, I suppose. And that was that? You left Ponyville and went to work at the asylum?”
“Well, there was a good bit of paperwork to be done, but yes, that’s the gist of it.”
“All right, then, why don’t you tell me about the asylum? Let’s start with your first day, arriving there.”
“Of… Of course, Mister Foalivetti. I’d… be happy to.”
Rolling Out The Red Carpet...
I shifted my hooves nervously against the carriage floor, staring at the massive facility in front of me. It was daunting to see up close, rather than in the photographs in the brochures. It was more ominous, and admittedly somewhat scarier, than the aforementioned photos had let on. The picture I had seen showed the facility having pristine, white concrete walls, silver colored chain link fences, and crystal clear windows. In fact, you could see a doctor walking past a window in the brochure.
The reality of the matter was that the place had undergone a few… changes since that photo had been taken. The white walls were darkened by grime and the chain link fence had been upgraded with razor wire around the top. I strained my eyes, to no avail, to see into one of the windows. They were dark and grimy and I could tell only by the slight blur of movement behind them that they weren’t painted over.
As the gate in front of me screeched open, the sedan I was riding in lurched forward and my heart sank. There was no turning back now.
There was no escape.
I remember chastising myself for thinking like that. After all, the patients couldn't be that bad, could they?
“Everything alright Miss?” My head jerked up to see a starch white mare dressed in a black nurse’s uniform, with her pink mane tied up in a neat bun behind her cute little nurse’s hat. Her tail was not so constrained, as it billowed out behind her and I could imagine the way it waved in the wake of her stride. What really drew my attention was the belt around her waist, adorned with several syringes containing various fluids of just as many colors.
“Um, yes... Just first day jitters, I guess,” I told her, giving a shaky smile. It wasn’t jitters. I was absolutely terrified.
“Don’t worry, I know the outside seems a little creepy, but they just can’t afford to keep much cleaning staff here,” she said calmly as she opened the carriage door, allowing me to step out with the black pleather bag I had in my lap. “My name is Nurse Redheart. I’ll be helping you get settled in. Is that all of your luggage?”
“No, there’s a suitcase in the back with some clothes in it. But you don—” I was cut off as she ran around to the back and the trunk popped open, revealing a suitcase matching my little carry bag. I gave a sigh as she yanked the thing out and slung it over her shoulder. “Thank you, Miss Redheart.”
“Please, it’s Nurse, not Miss. You really didn’t pack much did you?” she said with an amused smile.
“Uh, no, I like my blouses and business skirts, so it’s all I brought,” I explained as she walked past, gesturing for me to follow. “So, is the inside as gloomy as the outside?”
“Pretty much.”
“Fantastic.”
Her smile returned in full force as we entered through the facility's main entrance and proceeded into the lobby. “Oh don’t be like that!” she said in a chipper tone, slapping me on the shoulder. “It’s just something you get used to here.” She paused for a minute, a contemplative look coming over her face. "At least, that's what I've been told. Haven't been here that long myself!"
“Is it worth the pay?” I asked, trotting a little faster so I could keep pace.
“No idea. I'm kind of fresh out of my residency in Canterlot. I've been here about two months now, I guess."
I stopped dead in my tracks as I looked at her in disbelief.
She stopped turned to look at me with a confused frown. “Coming?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.
“Uh, yeah…”
~ 6 ~
The residential area of the compound was not large, and Redheart told me it was unfortunate that I didn’t share a room with another staff member. I asked what she meant, and she said that having a roommate is just more fun. When I asked if she shared her room, she merely shook her head and said that her room was vacant when she got it.
I was told that I would begin work in one week, after I’d had a chance to familiarize myself with Asylum protocols and the layout of the compound. They sure didn’t give a mare a chance to settle in, did they?
I sighed as I looked around my small room. It was sparsely furnished, only having the bare minimums for it to be at least somewhat comfortable. But I wasn’t comfortable; I was scared. I’d stopped pacing the room hours ago. And even though it was dark out, I could not sleep. I simply sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the floor, hugging my stomach with both arms.
My life as I knew it was over.
That was the thought that circled around in my mind, always lingering in the front of it, until I pushed it along its circular track so it could merely swing back around to the front.
It was a process I was familiar with, and one that I’d experienced many times preparing for exams in college. I hated it and I wanted it to stop, but the more I wanted it to stop, the more it would happen.
It was a psychiatrist’s greatest weakness: self inflicted reverse psychology, occasionally known as psychological self-torture. I’d read a case study where a single, simple thought had driven a pony mad because it wouldn’t leave their mind. It was both disturbing and sobering, knowing I could end up like that. It reminded me that I was just a pony, no different in that regard to the patients I would soon be treating.
A gentle knock on my door made my head raise up. “Who is it?”
“It’s Redheart.”
“S’open,” I said, suddenly realizing just how drowsy I was.
The door cracked and the sweet mare’s head popped through. “Hey, um, I was about to go grab some dinner, wanna come?”
I felt my stomach growl, but I didn’t think I could keep anything down at the moment, with my nerves as they were.
“Nah, you go on ahead. I’m just gonna hit the sack,” I told her, receiving a polite smile.
“Oh, ok. Goodnight then.” Her head slipped back thought the door. It was quickly replaced by her hand, which fiddled with the lock for a second, and then the door was shut. I promptly collapsed sideways on my bed and passed out.
~ 6 ~
The next day's noon found me in the cafeteria. I had a fork in my mouth, studying the various aspects of the compound’s layout. It was fairly uniform for all six floors of the actual asylum, with only minor differences. For example, the number of offices verses the number of cells differed between the first, second, third, and fourth floor, with the first two having all cells, the third having mostly cells and a few offices, and the fourth having all offices.
“Doc, you’ve been chewing on that fork for ten minutes. I think you got the food off.” My head snapped up, causing me to accidentally jab the roof of my mouth. Standing before me were two mares that looked identical to one another, save for their colors and clothes. One of them had blue fur, pink hair and wore only a sports bra, while the other had pink fur, blue hair and wore a full tank top. They were both clad in black athletic shorts. The blue one, spoke first: "I'm Lotus, she's Aloe. We're twins."
The other one picked up after playfully punching her twin in the shoulder. "So blunt... We're from the physical therapy wing."
“How did you know I’m a doctor?” I asked, forking a bit of my salad as they sat down across from me. “Cheerilee, by the way.”
"Nice to meet you," they said in unison, sending a chill down my spine. Then, they did it again. "Sorry, that happens a lot. Twins, you know?"
"Also, it's your clothes," Aloe added immediately, pointing at my blouse.
"Well please stop," I said playfully, though I was a bit serious. It was actually creeping me out a bit. "So what do you two do in the physical therapy wing?"
"Yoga specialists," Lotus said with a smirk.
"Yoga specialists?" I asked through a mouth full of salad.
"And fitness instructors!" Aloe added, bumping her shoulder against Lotus's.
“Should have opened with that,” I said bluntly after I swallowed.
“It’s a sensible, but unnecessarily risky role for the asylum to offer,” said a familiar white mare as she smacked her tray down beside mine. “I don’t approve, if you can’t tell.”
“It’s as obvious as my clothes,” I replied, causing Lotus to snort into her water, which promptly splattered onto her chest.
“Damn it, Doc! Now I gotta go change!” she shouted, wiping her muzzle off.
“Oh please Lotus, it’s going to get sweaty anyways,” Aloe chided and handed her sister a napkin holder. “I’m surprised the director hasn’t said anything about you dressing like this.”
“It’s a practical choice of attire!” the trainer replied, throwing her hands up, causing us both to laugh. “It's really hot out there! It's a pain in the ass!”
“Speaking of pains in the ass, that reminds me. Cheerilee, Director Diable asked to see you in his office,” Redheart said, forking a bit of her own salad. Lotus’s eyes narrowed at the Director’s name. “Don’t worry, you're not in trouble. It's just new employee stuff, that’s all. Kind of an… orientation of sorts.”
“That makes sense. What’s the Director like?” I asked, and immediately wished I hadn't.
The twins both scowled down at the table, but only Lotus answered at first. "Mare, the director is creepy as Tartarus. His name is Prench for 'devil.' I don't like him."
"I don't think anyone really does," Aloe clarified, sitting her fork down. "He's pretty scary, especially when he gets mad."
Redheart cut through the tension by slapping a palm down on the table. "Don't listen to them, Cheerilee. They're as fresh as we are. And it's their own fault the director got mad." At the last part, she cast an accusatory glare at the twins. "Seriously, there's a wall for a reason. Why would you take the patients outside the wall for a jog?"
"Hey," Lotus came back, pointing a finger at Redheart. "It's not out fault the wall is so tight around the facility."
"And it's not like the patients would get far anyways! We had Spitfire with us."
"That's no–" Redheart's scolding was cut off as I chuckled quietly to myself. "What's so funny?"
"It–it's nothing! You just remind me of my old college crew back in Trottingham," I explained, giving them a warm smile. "I feel like I'm among friends right now, that's all."
Redheart almost looked hurt by the statement. "I kind of thought you were among friends."
"Yeah," Aloe chimed in, crossing her arms. "I mean, it's not like any of us really know anybody else!"
"Come on Doc, at least call us acquaintances."
“Alright! Alright!" I said, holding up my hands. "I'm among friends, I guess!" With a sigh, i stood up and stretched. Well, I’ll see you all later, then?” I was answered with a chorus of cheerful affirmations, which gave me a smile, and I set off towards where the map said the Director’s office was.
~ 6 ~
Trepidation had sunk its claws into my heart, and that alone is what kept me from opening the Director’s office door.
It was by any means, a normal door. It wasn’t enchanted, it wasn’t made of iron, and it wasn’t made with bulletproof glass as far as I could tell. It was just a simple door, made of White Tail pine with wire-reinforced, frosted glass, bearing the simple word ‘Director.’
“You can come in, Doctor Cheerilee.” The deep voice behind the door scared me into jumping back a quite a few hooves.
Cautiously, I grabbed the handle and opened the door, feeling a rush of cold air as the seal was broken. Upon entering, I realized that the office was dark, as even the sunlight did not shine in through the window.
“D-Director Diable?” I asked cautiously as I slowly crept closer to the desk, behind which high-backed office chair, upholstered in faux red leather. At least, I hoped it was fake; real leather had been outlawed years ago…
“That’s me,” said the same deep voice as the chair spun around to face me. Even before he completely turned around, I could see that that director was no pony. The director was a mountain ram, bearing a snow white coat and black tipped horns. “Surprised?”
“Um… yes, actually. I’m sorry if I sound disrespectful, but what’s a mountain ram doing in Equestria? I though Tambelon sealed off eighty years ago.”
The director sighed, but smiled calmly at me. “My grandparents didn’t make it back in time. I’m stuck here.” I didn't like that smile. It was fake. It was like he found displeasure in my company and was trying very hard to hide it.
“I’m so sorry," I said, trying to remain calm. I had a habit of loosing my nerve when I became frightened, though I had learned to curb it in recent years.
“Don’t be,” he said sharply, causing me to flinch. His previous soft expression hardened and he sighed in what sounded like frustration. As he reached down into a desk drawer, I noticed that part of his fur was darker right between his horns as though he’d recently used temporary fur dye. When he sat up, he slapped several files onto the desk and scowled at me. “The reason I called you here, was to give you these: your patients’ case files. You’ll be tending to six after you start.”
“That’s… quite a handful…” I said cautiously, swallowing the bile rising in my throat. I felt fear taking hold of my heart again as he looked at me with those cold, unfeeling eyes. “I mean, I’m sure I can handle it, but, like… wow. You are putting a lot of faith in me.”
“I don’t expect you to actually help them,” he said bluntly, before turning his chair away from me. “All I need you to do is at least pretend the patients are making progress. The crown has certain… requirements when it comes to facilities like this.”
“Wait… what?”
“You may leave, Doctor Cheerilee,” he said hashly, silencing
“Right… um, have a nice day, uh, Director…” I said, barely keeping my voice above a mumble. I all but ran from the office, then went straight to my room. Along the way, I bumped into a familiar white mare with a belt of syringes. I didn’t stop to say hi. I just kept going. I didn’t know what it was, but the prospect of being near that ram terrified me. I felt like I had just slow danced with the ferrypony on a boat ride to Tartarus.
When I reached my room, I shut the door behind me and locked both locks. When I failed to catch my breath, I turned away and leaned back against the door, then sunk down it with an exhausted sigh.
What was I so afraid of? I shouldn’t be afraid of my boss, right? Celestia, I’d be living in the same compound as him, so I needed to get over such an irrational fear.
The mare of science in me took over, and began analyzing everything I knew so far about the director.
First, he was big. VERY big. At least two hooves taller than my own foster father, who himself stood two hooves above me. So he intimidated me through size, that was no surprise.
Second, his gaze seemed to bore into my soul, like he was reading my innermost thoughts, divulging my darkest secrets. That was just preposterous. Ram magic was not something I was fully familiar with, but I knew that they lacked any form of psychic magic, save for mild hypnosis. They taught us that in medical school.
Third, he was mysterious. I’d never met a ram before and I knew next to nothing about them. That was reasonable… to an extent.
Deductively, I reasoned that there was no actual reason to be afraid of the Director.
I glanced at the files in my hand.
“Well, I’ll have to read these eventually… I… I guess sooner would be better…” I whispered to myself and cracked into the first file.
Author's Note
Huh. There was no author's not here before the revisions were made. That's odd. I almost always put a note. Anyway, I've actually changed the original setup of the story by removing Diesel, adding Spitfire and Aloe, and I've taken away a bunch of stuff that wasn't needed. Hope you guys like it.
