Darkness.
That's the first thing Dawn remembers.
Cold, unforgiving darkness that swallows everything around it. Along with it came a crushing sense of hopelessness so deep it made entire oceans look like rivers in compression.
Then came something else.
Hunger.
Deep, agonizing hunger made one curl on the floor and cry themselves to sleep.
Dawn did so.
Many times.
He wasn't alone. There were others, others who were just as cold and hungry as he was.
There used to be many. A dozen or so he thinks. Both colts and fillies alike.
Some looked better off than others.
They cried.
At least at first.
Tears poured down their face as they sobbed and wailed while pounding again the hard metal door. Some called out to their parents. Begging and pleading for them to come to recuse them, to come to save them from the big bad pony in the lab coat.
Others?
They offered themselves in an attempt at mercy, at escape. Just as damaged and broken as the rest of them even before they came here.
There were even some who held themselves as though they were superior.
They never lasted long.
Sooner or later they break down piece by piece. Losing more of themselves to the darkness and hunger pains that seemed as though never-ending.
Then come the whispers.
It's always different rarely the same, but regardless they would rock back and forth in the corner whispering to themselves about parents, parties, dreams,
Nightmares.
Then they scream.
A loud guttural sound that sounded as if they were being torn from the inside out.
Silence,
But it never lasts long.
There is no such thing as silence in the dark.
There are noises both from the inside and out.
The sound of moving cars' heads bashing against walls, the sounds of groaning followed by desperate shrill laughter.
Then came the monsters.
Figures clothed in white branching metal sticks, leashes, and gas masks. Moving as if they were gliding across the floor despite it being littered with bodily filth of all kinds. Their gazes never wavered as they moved about with a particular pony in mind before dragging through the door they came in.
Some struggled, crawled, and screamed, only to have their face bashed in by the metal until their movements stilled.
Those who were taken rarely came back.
The few who did look even more broken than before.
Dawn was hungry.
Oh, he was so hungry.
He doesn't remember the first time it happened nor the face of the pony, but what he did remember was the familiar sound of the door opening. The echo of something large hitting the floor as well as the fresh scent of blood.
He was so hungry.
The others were too. Ponies who were just as desperate and scared as he was, but regardless that didn't stop them.
That didn't stop him.
Time was almost non-existent and kindness seemed as if an old folk tale. However, despite it all, some grouped in the dark. Clinging onto one another as if they were foals drinking milk from their mother's tit.
Those who didn't, we'll they wished they had
Thoughts and memories from his past life never came. Instead, all that comforted him was the bodies of those he was close to. Fillies and coats who moved wiggled, screamed, and barked at their heart's content.
There was no such thing as silence in the dark.
At least until the monsters came.
Then one day the door opened. Releasing a ray of light so bright that many in his drove including himself screamed in pain. Having long since gotten used to the dark. Few even began to see within its abyss.
What came out weren't figures in white, but ones in blue. Their faces were a mixture of every unpleasant emotion you can think of as they stared.
What happened next is hard to remember. There was movement, screams of fear, more bright lights, and the feeling of being utterly surrounded.
Dawn remembers screaming. He screamed for so long and so hard that the monsters had to poke him with something that made him sleepy.
He didn't fall asleep though,
But he did stop screaming.
Afterward, everything soon felt like a dream. One that sped from one scene to the next. His mind too far gone to make sense of anything, but his body? His body moved as if it had a life of its own.
He moved, screamed, lunged, and attacked, anything and everything within reach. His mind was nearly empty of thought but his mouth moved a mile a minute.
He spoke, but the words rarely made sense. He would shout and hollower about the dark. Say names of places he heard others mutter under their breath. Laugh at the sound of his name coming from his mouth. Whine about the sky about the monsters and how he was hungry.
He was always hungry.
The others weren't much better, but to be fair they were just as messed up and broken as he was.
Then they came.
The new monsters.
One's in white who pretended to be nice and kind to gain his and the other's trust.
It only made things worse.
It made them worse.
As always he doesn't remember how it happened, but one day everything just went crazy.
Doors were opened, blood soaked the floor, and he and his drove marched through the halls. Screaming, laughing, and barking their heads off.
On that day he felt something he never felt before.
He felt full.
Then the even bigger monsters came, and pretty soon he was back where he started. Tied up and unable to move with a muzzle tightly gripped on his mouth. Laughing, mumbling, crying, whispering to those beyond the wall. To those who listen.
They always listened.
Not far from his cell he can hear the others. All of whom moved about the same way he did.
Dawn growled stomach rumbling.
After all, he was hungry.
He was always hungry.
Wasn't he?
