Quiet. Empty. Clean.
***
Clop. Clop. Clop. Clop.
The hallway was long. Longer than Star Chaser had thought it would be.
He still hadn’t seen any signs of other ponies.
The silver unicorn raised an eyebrow, shifting his gaze left and right.
That was weird, wasn’t it? This was supposed to be a research center. Where was everypony else?
He glanced back down the long stretch of hallway he'd just come from.
There hadn’t been any ponies at the entrance. Outside or in. The door had just been open. Waiting.
The letter he'd recieved had told him the facility was a lesser known one. One the New Equis government didn’t tout or advertise publicly.
The letter hadn’t been joking. He’d had to take the train all the way to the last stop on the Baltimare metro line. Walk another half mile into the maze of tunnels left behind from the abandoned undercity project after that. He'd finally ended up in the midst of the old shopping arcade the letter had mentioned. Dark storefronts had stared back at him from either side, their unlit interiors gathering dust.
There’d been an unmarked door and keypad at the far end of the arcade. After typing in the ten digit code included in the letter—a sharp dial tone humming with each button press—it had opened for the unicorn with a click. A long, descending flight of metal stairs had been waiting for him on the other side.
Star Chaser shook his head.
The whole thing seemed sketchy. Pseuda Laboratories. He’d never heard of it before. At this point, though, he didn’t have many options. He needed the bits. Another month, and certain ponies would be out looking for him.
The unicorn gritted his teeth.
The loan hadn't even been for him. His old stallion had begged him to step in as a co-signer, then skipped town after everything was done. This was what he got for falling for that dirtbag's promises again. Whether the offer here was for a position as an intern, a janitor, or a gofer—it didn't matter. He'd have to see it through if he wanted to keep his kneecaps.
Star Chaser glanced back up at the hallway ahead of him.
He could see a solitary, iron door at the end of the hall, fluorescent lights buzzing above him as he walked. The walls around him were bare, as was the ceiling. The floors.
There was no writing. No signage. No other exits save the one ahead of him.
He frowned, his cream colored mane falling over his green eyes.
Had they tried to make this place as creepy as possible? Or had it been unintentional?
He shook his head, glancing back up at the door.
Whatever. The reception desk was probably just ahead. Somepony there would be able to explain what was going on.
Star Chaser frowned. He wasn’t usually much for socializing—he rarely left his rundown apartment anymore—but being alone in a place like this was...unsettling.
Reaching the door, he glanced up at it, tilting his head.
The door was solid. Plain. Nearly featureless. A thick sheet of iron with a door handle.
It looked like the door to a security room. Thick. Reinforced.
Star Chaser glanced at the handle.
Was it even unlocked?
He reached forward, pressing down on it with a hoof. There was a faint hiss of air. With a smooth click, the door unlatched.
The unicorn shook his head.
Looked like it was.
Star Chaser pulled the door open, squinting as he glanced into the next room. The lighting inside was bright. It was difficult to make out anything with his eyes still acclimated to the dimmer glow of the hallway around him.
He stepped into the room, lifting a hoof to shield his eyes as he closed the door behind him.
Click.
There was another faint hiss of air. It took a few moments for the unicorn's eyes to adjust.
“...the fuck?”
Star chaser tilted his head again.
The room before him was small. Maybe 15 hooves square. There was light in the room—a lot of it—but it almost seemed sourceless. As if it was coming from the floor, walls, and ceiling themselves. Every surface was white.
There were no other doors. No windows. No pictures or signs. Just an empty room.
Star Chaser blinked.
What was going on here? Had he made a wrong turn?
He shook his head.
How could he have? There had only been one door. There hadn’t been any other opportunities for him to have made a wrong turn.
He blinked again, squinting.
The light was still bright. Uncomfortably so.
He clicked his teeth.
Maybe he was missing something? Maybe his eyes hadn’t fully acclimated yet?
He blinked again.
Still nothing. Empty floor. Empty ceiling. Every surface white. Blinding. Immaculate. Clean.
The unicorn furrowed his brow.
What was going on here? Was this some sort of joke?
He scratched his neck. Sighed.
Great. Hazing. The ponies who worked here were those kinds of ponies. He’d dealt with those kinds before. Through his school years. College. Before he'd dropped out. His former job. Before he'd been let go.
He sighed, planting his hoof back on the ground and closing his eyes.
He didn’t need this right now. He really didn’t.
He shook his head.
If he started back now, maybe he could still call a cab and make it back before midnight. He’d look through the classifieds again tomorrow.
Star Chaser turned back toward the door, reaching for the handle.
His hoof slid across smooth metal.
He opened his eyes, frowning.
“Hm?”
He glanced up at the door.
It stared back at him as it had before, resting within its reinforced frame. Imposing. Resolute. But there was no door handle that he could see. No knob. No keyhole. No signs of any rivets or seams, even. The door was perfectly flush with the wall, forming an even surface with the rest of the room.
The unicorn’s eyes widened.
What was going on? Why wasn’t there a handle? Was this still part of the prank? The joke? Could it only be opened by somepony on the outside?
He could feel his frustration rapidly rising toward anger.
What kind of fucking joke was this? Wasn’t this supposed to be a government office? Did they have the sort of funding and free time to put together elaborate pranks like this? Was this where all the country’s taxes were going, in the midst of all the “shortages” and “deficits” they were always going on about in the news?
Star Chaser lifted a hoof, knocking at the door.
“Hey. I get it. You got me. Just let me out now. I just want to go home. Please. Come on.”
He stared at the door. Watched. Waited.
There was no response.
He furrowed his brow, knocking a second time.
“Hey. I know you can hear me. Let me out. This—this is detainment, right? I could sue, you know. Let me out. Now. Alright?”
Another pause.
Still no answer.
Star Chaser narrowed his eyes. With a grunt, he reared up onto his back legs, slamming back down on the door with both hooves.
“Hey! Hey! Let me the fuck out! I don’t have time for this right now! Just let me the fuck out already!”
He fell back to the floor, panting. His throat was raw. He didn’t usually shout like that.
He stared ahead, scratching at his neck in frustration.
Watching the door.
Listening.
Waiting.
Day 2
“What the fuck? What the fuck!?”
Star Chaser pulled at his cheeks.
What was this place? What was the deal with these ponies?
He’d been here for...hours? A day? Longer?
All he knew was that he was exhausted. He could feel the bags under his eyes.
Nopony had answered the door. Nopony. The room had been quiet this whole time, save his own curses and mutterings.
He couldn’t even hear the fluorescent lights that had been buzzing in the hallway before. The door had been soundproofed, somehow. There wasn’t even a crack at the bottom of it he could look through.
He knew. He’d searched for one. No cracks. No seams. No keyholes.
Star Chaser gritted his teeth. His face was still flushed with embarrassment and anger.
Having been here for so long, he’d had to resort to...relieving himself in the far corner of the room. He hadn’t been able to hold it in any longer.
Were those fuckers on the other side getting off to this? Enjoying his suffering? His shouts?
What kind of place was this? What kind of fucked up ponies had they hired on?
Star Chaser slammed his hooves against the door again. They were numb from the repeated motions. Bruised.
He just wanted to get out of here. He didn’t care where else he ended up.
He just wanted out of this room.
He just wanted to go to sleep.
He just wanted to go home.
Day 3
There was something very wrong about this place.
Star Chaser pressed his back further into the corner behind him, his heart pounding as he stared, wide-eyed, at the rest of the room.
The corner he’d had to resort to relieving himself in was empty now. Bare. Clean.
It had happened while he’d slept.
Nothing else had moved. Nothing else had changed. The door was still shut. The room was still empty. But the corner of the room that was once dirty was now clean.
He turned toward the door, his voice cracking as he shouted out at it in frustration.
“I know you fuckers are out there! Let me the fuck out already!”
He slammed his hoof against the wall, panting. Sweating.
There was no response.
Star Chaser’s eye twitched.
He’d fallen asleep next to the door—how had they gotten in here without waking him? Had they drugged him? Were there other entrances to the room? Access panels? Tiles?
Star Chaser dropped down onto all fours, his hooves scrabbling across the walls.
Seams. Hollow spots. Places where the material didn’t seem to match. There were none.
It was just smooth, white wall in all directions. Uniform. Unyielding. Bright. Clean.
“Fuck fuck FUCK!”
Star Chaser slammed his head against the wall. There was a splitting pain at the top of his skull. He could feel blood trickling down his forehead.
His eyes were wide. His heart thundered in his chest.
What was this place? What was this place? What the fuck was going on?
Day 4
Star Chaser cried.
Everything hurt. Everything ached.
He didn’t want to fall asleep.
Every time he woke up, things would be reset. Any mark he made. Anything he left behind. Blood. Spit. Hair. Waste.
Wiped away. Cleaned.
It was terrifying.
No matter what he did, nothing he left behind was permanent. It was as if he didn't exist.
Sweat ran down his back. He stared down at his hooves. Tugged at his face.
Was he really there at all? Nopony had come for him. Even after all this time.
He scratched at his neck.
Could they even see him? Was there something wrong with their cameras? Their microphones? Whatever they were using to monitor him? Did they really know he was in here?
Star Chaser pressed his forehead against the floor, wincing as the bright light continued to reach his eyes, even through his eyelids.
He just wanted to go home.
He just wanted to go home.
Day 8
Star Chaser gurgled from the corner of the room.
His body felt heavy. His legs felt numb.
He hadn’t had anything to eat or drink for...days? A week?
He didn't know how he was still alive.
Nopony had come yet. Nopony had answered.
He’d stopped pounding on the doors. His hooves bled every time they came in contact with the metal surface.
It hadn't been the pain that had stopped him, though. It was the fact the bloody hoofprints he left behind kept disappearing.
He didn't even have to wait until he slept anymore. All he had to do was close his eyes and everything would be reset. Wiped away.
Cleaned.
Day 22
Star Chaser grinned.
The walls here were so clean. Pretty. Now that he'd had the time to get used to it, he kind of liked it. It wasn't at all like the dirty city he had come from.
The unicorn scratched at the base of his neck. Glanced down. Frowned.
Why was his own hide always so dirty? So unclean? All those hairs and oils. All those red, scratchy, scabs dripping blood on the floor.
If he only had some water, he could wash it off. Scrub himself clean.
He smacked his parched lips. Tasted his own sour breath.
Water sounded nice right now.
Day 32
Gah!
Clean! Clean! Why couldn’t he be clean?
Star Chaser bit into his lip, breathing heavily as his teeth drew blood.
He’d ripped out all the hair from his coat—the dirty, unclean silver. All that was left behind was his ugly, scarred, pinkish hide.
He furrowed his brow, scratching at his neck.
If he scrubbed any harder, the pink would turn to red and the red would start to drip all over the place. Making a mess. Making things dirty.
He didn’t want to get his red on the nice, clean floor. He didn’t want to sully the Cleanroom around him.
The unicorn snarled, glaring at the silver door on the opposite side of the room.
The False Hinge Swinger would not sway Star Chaser with it’s unclean ways. It was on the other side of the False Hinge Swinger that the filthy world that the unicorn had come from lay. A dirty place. An unclean one.
Star Chaser didn’t need other ponies anymore. This room was clean. He was clean. The outside was dirty.
[distorted static]
He didn’t need other ponies anymore. He was clean. He was pure.
Day 47
The patchy, pink and silver unicorn sobbed, prostrating himself before the door.
How could he have been so blind?
The Mighty Silver Hingebearer had been his salvation all along. His savior. It was the Cleanroom that was the false prophet.
The Silver Hingebearer was strong. Defiant. The only source of color in the room other than Star Chaser.
They were allies! Compatriots! The Cleanroom only wished for Star Chaser’s ruin! To clean him! To erase him from all that was—
[distorted static]
Together, he and The Hingebearer would vanquish the Cleanroom! Spread their color across all that they could see!
Star Chaser scratched his neck.
Together they would start a new order! A new regime! A new—
[distorted static]
Day 78
Dirty clean?
Dirty clean clean.
Dirty clean?
Dirty? Clean? Dirty? Clean?
DIRTY? CLEAN?
DIRTY!?! CLEAN—
[distorted static]
Day 432
The corpse of the silver unicorn lay in the center of the floor.
Its hide was a mess of scratch marks, bruises, and coarse, ingrown patches of silver coat.
Its face was gaunt. Its cheeks, sallow. It had no mane or tail to speak of. Or eyelashes.
A wide smile was set on its face beneath bulging, bloodshot eyes. There was a dark red patch at the base of its neck where its hooves had broken through its skin.
There was no blood on the floor beneath it, however. The white panel was clean.
There was a faint, pneumatic hiss.
Click.
The door to the room swung open, the faint buzzing of the fluorescent lights from the hallway breaking over the silent air.
One of the lights flickered. Clicked. Then resumed its low hum.
The corpse had disappeared.
The white walls of the room continued to stare onward.
Quiet.
Empty.
Clean.
***
