Author's Note

First off, I would like to apologize for the lack of dialogue. The leading protagonist lives alone, so there was no easy situation where dialogue was required.
There will be way more in the upcoming chapters, promise.

I also want to apologize for the very short six hundred word prologue, the official chapters will pack a couple of thousand words at the very minimum. I have come upon the decision to release this chapter-by-chapter, so expect an update around once or twice a month.

There are two separate stories being told. One following Lens Flash, the daring investigative journalist, and the other follows Software programmer and engineer Screen Static.
The chapters will switch between the two constantly. This is my first writing project, so once again, I apologize if it is lackluster and sloppy.

Aside from the prologue and epilogue, the story is told in first-person format.

My main goal for this project is to help sharpen my skills as a writer and give me an idea if what I am writing about is interesting or just the opposite. The prologue sucks, but I guarantee that the full chapters will be much better. Support and constructive criticism is appreciated.

There also seems to be a text glitch for cell phone users where lines with the paragraphs break, I am attempting to resolve this issue.

0. Prologue

In 1977, Mount Locke Asylum ceased all activity due to a loose patient murdering three scientists. On September 19th, 2009, Raincoat Corporation assumes command of the complex, conducting illegal experiments on the patients under the MKULTRA program.

Fourteen years later, investigative journalist Lens Flash receives an electronic letter by a stallion who addresses himself as WATCHER.

Present Day

_ _ _

SECUREMAIL V.012
CONNECTING SERVER
login lensflash
PASSWORD ? *******
getmail -n

February 27 2024
From: 8r7465i9em117@mutemail.com
To: lensflash47@gmail.com
Subject: TIP / Illegal Activity at Raincoat psychiatric systems

Lens fastened his eyes on the monitor, mostly concentrating on the irregular email. It consisted of a concoction of letters and numbers, accompanied by a suspicious 'Mutemail.com'. Whoever sent this email was exceedingly cautious not to draw attention to themselves. The subject introduced Raincoat Corporation, one of the shadiest business entities in Manehattan. Lens had always fantasized about their destruction, and this case might just be the story that finally breaks the bastards.

Flash directed the cursor towards the scroll bar to proceed reading, the bright red FIXEDSYS font began flooding the muddy brown background. He extended his right foreleg over to a moderately transparent white glass with the words 'High Quality' printed on, and took a sip of what he assumed was coke. "Alrighty then, what do you have for me?" Lens challenged the display, almost as if he were expecting to receive an answer. He stretched his forelegs and continued reading.

_ _ _

Listen here, I haven't got a lot of time. I've done just under a month of software programming
and engineering for Raincoat, and have witnessed things no living pony should ever have to
see. I hear scientists speaking of using the asylum's inmates as nano factories and other
bullshit. Don’t understand it, I don't want to. Don't trust them. They tell you it's science, but it's
not. As far as I'm aware, everyone in this complex is fucked. This cannot go unnoticed.
Raincoat must be stopped, exposure is required. -WATCHER

At this point, anyone with a cerebellum would shut down their device to avoid getting caught up in something of this caliber. But Lens was different. He was a risk-taker. He accepted cases no one else would dare look in to. Flash dragged the mouse pointer over to the rhubarb red print option, then right-clicked. Within seconds, a large-sized black printer started swallowing a sheet of paper. The excessively loud screeches of the printer rang in his eardrums. The printer was quite old, as evidence of the dust particles sailing off the gaping mouth of the machine. It commonly takes around ten minutes for the behemoth to print.

Lens made his way to a tall green door on the right side of the room. The stallion gripped the rusted bronze knob with his right-wing and pulled the door open. He trotted straight across the dining room towards another green door, which was a tad bit more diminutive than the bedroom door. The pegasus entered the restroom and sauntered over towards the sink. "Woah, I look awful. Definitely seen better days." He spoke, whilst glaring into the mirror.

Lens had a khaki brown coat with oxford blue mane, which almost resembled black. He had lime green irises and a black studio camera as his cutie mark. His left-wing was clothed in bandaging which prohibited him from flying. Last week he had been knocked out of the atmosphere by a rogue thundercloud. Damn Cloudsdale ponies can't retain control of their clouds.

The printer gave off one final screech, then spat the paper document out. The watercolor became less visible the further down the page due to the scarcity of ink in the machine. Lens snatched the page from the printer and turned off his laptop. He began shutting off all lights in the apartment and made his way to the living room.

The room was quite bland. He had an old-fashioned brownish-orange leather couch, a circular argyle rug, and an old box television sitting upon a small bookshelf. Flash delicately stored the document in his saddlebag, then reached for a camcorder on the bookshelf. The camcorder was one of the more modern models, it was equipped with night vision and a directional microphone. As for the visuals, the base of the device was a tarnished silver, with a cathedral grey trim.

It had a horizontal flip screen on the left side to view what the camcorder was capturing. Lens clicked a small silver button on the right side of the camera to toggle night vision, just to be sure it still functioned. Afterward, he crammed the camcorder into the opposite saddlebag to prevent it from crumbling the document. "Ready or not Mount Locke, here I come."