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[Prologue]: It's Just A Nightmare! ... Right?
The veil of darkness weighing down my head lifts as a sharp, desperate inhale of air is sucked down into my windpipes. My lungs burn in my chest, almost if they're punishing me for the lack of air just moments ago. I jolt upwards from off my back and wince in pain as I sit upright. A fuzzy haze slowly fades from my vision along with the obnoxious ringing in my ears. My surroundings are completely unfamiliar, much like the reasons for my current predicament. Where was I? Why did I find myself suddenly awake on the cold floor in an immense amount of pain? Why did everything hurt so much?
As if on cue, sinister, disquieting laughter fills the room. It sounds... otherworldly. Whatever is laughing- presumably at me- is most certainly not equine. Nothing equine- to my knowledge- could make such a horrible sound without the help of a spell or some kind of special effects device. A sinking feeling in my gut told me that this was, unfortunately, not a prank. That growing feeling told me this was reality, yet I desperately and silently wish it were a nightmare. My ears flatten against my head out of fear as I jerk my head in all directions looking for the source of the laughter, despite the throbbing pain banging in my skull that grew with each jerk. The room around me is eerily dark, save from the slivers of light coming from the ceiling above me. I am, however, able to make out the shape of a piano off to my left and a drum set in front of me, just in the outskirts where the shadows and the slivers of light meet.
The laughter quiets down as I hear something shuffling around deep in the darkness all around me, just out of sight where I have no chance of identifying it. One moment it sounds off to my right, the next it sounds right behind me. It even sounds as if it's coming from above me. The slivers of light flicker and dance in perfect sync with the shuffling. The mysterious giggle box in the shadows must have been up above me, though, and partially blocking the light, as soon as the shuffling began and the slivers flickered, a noticeable amount of light poured in and dimly lit the room, then disappeared and reappeared. Whatever it is seems like it's hurriedly shuffling around, like a shark circling its prey, prepared to pounce at a moment's notice.
I'm rooted to the spot by a dreadful fear that fills my bones. The lights in the room suddenly flicker on, disorienting me and making me flinch my eyes shut. Did... Did that thing turn the lights on? Why would it? To better see its prey? I peek an eye open and look around without moving my head before opening my other eye. I look around and find myself in some sort of musical storage room. I take a very brief moment to take in my surroundings before refocusing on trying to pinpoint the thing clearly stalking me. However, I find nothing but an assortment of ancient looking instruments covered in thick layers of dust haphazardly strewn around along with taped up cardboard boxes.
No matter how quickly I looked around, I couldn't catch a single glimpse of anything evil or dangerous. Was that all in my head, then? Was that feeling in my gut wrong? Was it all just something my brain cooked up to scare me as payback for being careless and getting hurt? With no answers to be found, I rise to my hooves and shakily look around one last time. The very moment my hooves fully connect with the cold hardwood floor do I find myself being tackled to the ground and pinned on my back. I shriek in a mix of fear, surprise and pain as my back hits the floor. I lock eyes with... her? Were it not for the incredibly unnatural angle her neck was bent and twisted at, the uneasy twitches and jerks of her head or the murderous glint in her glowing orange eyes, this... thing could have easily passed for a normal mare.
Oddly enough, the 'mare' looks almost familiar with her mulberry colored mane and pale yellow skin covered in bruises and scrapes. Despite the sense of familiarity, clearly this mare was anything but normal. Another fit of laughter erupts from her as drool practically poured out of her mouth and splattered against my skin. Her mouth is curled into such an unnaturally large and psychotic grin that the skin of her mouth seems to be stretched to its very limit and on the verge of just tearing. The two of us are stuck in what is probably the world's deadliest staring contest as she just... laughs... and laughs... and laughs... and laughs. Though they never stray from mine, her eyes twitch incessantly and her pupils grow and shrink repeatedly. To say I was terrified was an understatement. So was describing my heart beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out and run far away. There were no amount of words to describe the terror I felt as her psychotic laughter filled the room and her eyes bore holes into my own.
As her laughter dies down and slows to an erratic yet quiet giggle fest, her tongue lolls out of her maw and also exposes more of her sharp, surprisingly white teeth. More drool slowly drips and strings from her mouth as she just... stares, as if savoring the moment or trying to decide where to take her first bite.
"Pl-please... N-n-no..." I can barely manage to choke out my wobbly words through the fear gripping my throat.
She rears her head backwards as if winding up for the first blow as a sob escapes my throat. Her head is thrown back at such a disturbing angle that I could no longer see her face. I'm going to die and it is going to happen without me getting to know where I was or how I got into this situation in the first place. The mare throws her head forward, her maw aimed right for my face, but just as her face is mere inches from my own, she stops. I could feel her hot breath against my skin. Rather strangely, her breath didn't stink like I expected it to and instead smelt pleasantly like cinnamon. Her eyes flicker from murderous to confused as she looks up and tilts her head.
Only then do I get the courage to look away and notice the lights flickering off and on in an erratic pattern. The lights flicker once more before ceasing. In the very corner of my peripheral vision, I see a figure of another pony. I'm unable to make heads or tails of their appearance, but their presence redirects the monstrous mare's attention for the time being. I push through the fear, mustering every ounce of courage I had in me and use the opportunity to try to carefully wiggle myself free. My attempt is an utter failure and the very second I wiggle, the mare snaps her head- quite literally, with a sickening crunch- in my direction. With zero hesitation, she sinks her teeth into my left ear and rips it off in one clean tear.
Pain instantly sears through my head as I scream in pain. It's a sound that surprises me. It's such a primal, blood curdling scream that I even frighten myself with it. A noise I have never- to my knowledge- heard in my life anypony, much less my own self. Through the tears pouring down my cheeks like an endless waterfall, I can see her gnawing on my ear like it was a fucking chew toy. She spits out my thoroughly chewed ear and it flops against my chest. I can feel it there, twitching and wet and still warm to the touch. My limbs suddenly become lighter as I hear a loud thump followed by the bitch screaming in agony. I try to sit up, but find myself unable to move as I sob loudly where I lay.
As quickly as I had come to on the floor of this music storage room, I found my vision growing black once more. In only a few short minutes, my life was going to end right there. As I lay there in the process of fainting, presumably from the pain, I can hear the mare fighting with whatever creature or thing had decided to show up and play hero. Unless, of course, it’s just fighting her to 'steal' her 'meal' away, but I can only pray that it's here to save me. As the darkness takes hold for a second time, the pain seems to momentarily disappear, leaving only the sensation of warm blood oozing from my brand new wound. At least this way, if either of these monstrosities decides to eat me, I won't be able to feel it. Being eaten alive- even if unconscious- was a far worse fate than I could ever imagine for myself. Surely not how I thought I would go, not by a long shot, but I took a bit of solace in the fact- or rather the hope- that my death will be a painless one.
W-wait, what? No! I-I'm not ready to die! This... This isn't fair! I... Why me? What did I do to deserve this? Why was this even happening?? Why?! Why?! Why...? Why...? Wh...y…
And just like that, I was gone…
[Chapter 1]: To Hell and Back Again
I bolt upright as I suddenly come to with a frightened gasp. My breathing is ragged and I can feel that I’m absolutely drenched all over in sweat. My body is trembling and every centimeter of it hurts. It feels as if my body had been thrown in an industrial sized dryer and left in there on the highest setting. My neck and eyes hurt worst of all, like they had taken the brunt of whatever had injured me. Although too dark to properly see, I had nary a doubt I was covered in a multitude of bruises. A gasp of realization escapes my throat and almost immediately- and as if on its own- my left hoof shoots up and reaches for my left ear. I feel around and am instantly overcome with an odd mixture of skepticism and relief. My ear is thankfully intact with no traces of it having been sewn back on or ripped off in the first place. Even better, my hearing in that ear is also intact. I can hear the sound of my hoof rubbing against my skin plain as day as I feel my ear over and over again, which fills me with such relief and joy.
I wipe the sweat from my face as I take in a deep breath and slowly exhale it to calm down my breathing and racing heart. I collect myself where I sit and exhale a small sigh. The joyous discovery of my ear still being intact could only mean one thing; that entire sequence of events had been nothing more than a horrible, vivid nightmare! I can’t help but to laugh a bit nervously at myself. I dreamed up something that felt so terrifyingly real to the point I somehow became convinced it was real! Whew! Just wait until I tell… uh… um… who about this? My head throbs as I try to recall the pony I assume would get a laugh out of the details of my horrible nightmare.
Who would I tell that would find something so horrible amusing? Why did I even find it somewhat amusing myself? I thought I had just died, for fuck’s sake! Something definitely isn’t right. I must’ve hit my head pretty hard or something. Maybe I have some sort of brain injury that’s making me find dreaming of my own demise ever so slightly hilarious? Of course. That’s the only reasonable explanation. Any sane, normal pony would never find that funny and that’s exactly what I am! Right? I… I’m perfectly sane, right? Perfectly normal?
The more I try to recall anything about myself or my life prior to having that nightmare and waking up, the more my head throbs and my mind draws blanks. No matter what I try to recall, it’s all incredibly fuzzy, like ink on a page that’s gotten wet and smeared into an incomprehensible mess. I can’t remember anything about myself! Not a single damn thing! Dammit, that’s not good. Clearly the injury is worse than I assumed. Where was I?? What happened to me?! I grit my teeth and grind them against themselves in frustration. Ugh! I hate this so much! My inability to recall anything other than the nightmare angers me deeply. I take in another deep breath and slowly exhale it, then repeat the process until the anger mostly subsides.
I need to keep a level head if I want to recover my memories and the first step in doing that is to leave wherever ‘here ’ is. The room is incredibly dark, though, making it impossible to make out any of its features. I can hardly see my hoof as I wave it inches from my face. I reach out and cautiously feel my immediate surroundings. I’m sitting on something somewhat soft and cushiony with a bit of firmness to it when I press down. I twist my torso to face partly behind me- grunting in pain as I do so- and feel around some more. My hoof touches something even softer and cushiony with a mostly cold, smooth surface and a warm, damp center. Reaching upwards and leaning a bit more, my hoof moves onto something incredibly hard and just as cold. Despite the jolts of pain as I do so, I bounce in place and hear the sound of metal creaking and squeaking in sync with my bouncing.
I stop and grin a bit as I realize I’m sitting on a bed with a metal frame and a wall behind it. I twist back around and reach out to my left. My hoof snakes around in the air until it touches something of a similar softness and smooth surface as the pillow. I grab whatever it is and gently tug on it. There’s only a slight give and the sound of metal sliding against metal when I tug on the mystery object. There’s no doubt about it, I have a curtain in my grasp. I sigh as I let go and relax my hoof. A curtain and a relatively comfortable bed weren’t exactly helpful clues as to where I am. At least they told me I was somewhere relatively safe.
I don’t think I wandered here on my own, though. I have the distinct suspicion that somepony brought me here, but much like everything else, I can’t recall who. I also have the feeling that I don't have the luxury of sitting here and moping about my situation. I can’t quite place why, but there's a sensation of something looming nearby. Something that I’m sure isn’t good, something quite the opposite. I lean to my right and snake my other hoof in the air, feeling around in all directions. It feels a whole lot of nothing except the stale, musty air around me. Even as I lean forward more and more, I touch absolutely nothing.
Now teetering dangerously close to falling off the bed, I flail my hoof around until the tip of it just barely skims the surface of the nearby wall. I lean back to a normal position before mentally counting down from three and then I practically throw myself off the bed and against the nearby wall. Because of how dark the room is, I try to stay quiet as I push along the wall until the texture changes from cold and smooth to something wooden and a little less cold. A door maybe?
I back up and slide a hoof up the wall in an attempt to find the light switch, assuming there even is one and the place has electricity. It doesn’t take long before it slides across something with a plastic texture and a single rectangular lever. I flip the switch and in an instant, the lights flicker on with an electrical crackle. A cool fluorescent light fills the room and exposes nearly every secret the darkness hid. The light continues to flicker off and then back on every so often as it hums at a barely audible volume. I’m no electrician, but the wiring seems to be severely out of date. Ugh, for all I know, maybe I am one. A quick look around gives me a solid answer to my current whereabouts. Somehow or another, I’ve wound up in the rather small infirmary of… somewhere. I guess that brings me to the next item on my ever growing list of questions with no answers.
I look behind me and see the bed I had been laying on just a few moments prior. The frame is metal and of a very simple design. Its mattress is thin and covered in a grayish-green sheet and a single, lighter colored blanket and pillow. A dusty white curtain hangs completely drawn at the end of the bed, allowing me to see the adjacent curtain I had tugged on. I look around again, but this time take it slow and completely absorb my surroundings. There are two more curtains next to the one hanging at the end of what had been my bed, both completely drawn and hiding the beds I assume are behind them. I guess I don’t need to see them to know what they look like. No infirmary I’m aware of would have three completely different beds, so I’m more than sure that the other two beds look exactly the same as the first. A slow-growing knot of fear in my stomach told me I probably didn’t want to know what actually lie behind the curtains. Probably for the better to just leave them be.
The top half of the walls are covered in a light blue paint that’s cracked and chipping off while the bottom half is covered in a dark blue paint in the same state of disrepair. Where the paint has chipped away, I can see the gray concrete underneath it. The floors are made of a light colored hardwood that has clearly seen better days. A visible layer of dust, dirt and grime covers the floor and sends a shiver up my spine. Seeing so much gross dirt and grime made me want to dive head first into a scalding hot bath. I guess that’s one thing I’m remembering about myself; I’m a very clean pony. Right now, though, I’m feeling anything but clean. Yuck.
As I try to forget how dirty the floor is, I look up and focus on other things in the room, stuff I hadn’t looked at yet. On the other side of the room is a door with a small, rectangular window with a plaque next to it that simply reads ‘storage’, only the ‘t’ and the ‘a’ lettering is missing and nowhere to be seen. I assume it says ‘storage’, but I guess it technically reads as ‘sorge’ with those missing letters. I chuckle quietly at the thought. The inside of the ‘sorge’ closet is dark, though, so I can’t really see what’s currently inside. I guess there’s no need to know right now. Besides, it’s an infirmary! Why would such a place keep anything but medical supplies in there?
I softly roll my eyes as I move on to the rest of the room. There’s a small wooden desk with metal filing cabinets on either side. Both filing cabinets are dented up all over and have most of their gray paint chipped off, leaving the exposed metal to rust severely. The desk seems to be in a good enough shape compared to the cabinets sitting on either side. I can’t say the same for the clunky, old school monitor sitting on top, however, and the equally clunky and old looking tower directly next to it. The keyboard and mouse are missing from the computer setup and from what I can see, they’re nowhere to be found. The monitor’s screen is busted and missing much of the outer glass, leaving some of its innards exposed.
The whole thing was beaten up, including its tower, which was honestly in a much worse shape than the monitor itself. Clearly, somepony was angry that they had lost a game of minesweeper. I don’t blame them, though. Minesweeper sucks. Wait. Does it? Well, I think it probably sucks. I don’t really remember, but I get the impression I have a strong dislike for the game. Wait, is it even a game? Ugh. Not being able to remember anything SUCKS! It’s like I’m stuck with a severe case of… of… fuck, I don’t know! Something that makes me forget everything! UGH!! I groan in frustration as I roll my eyes. Level head- er- me, remember? Gotta keep a level head. Deep breath in, deep breath out.
I look directly in front of me and see a large metal cabinet with two doors with several small, square glass windows at the top and three drawers at the bottom. The cabinet itself is in the same sorry state of affairs as the filing cabinets nearby; dented, rusty and old. The glass in these little windows are surprisingly completely intact. Even with the light on, the inside of the cabinet seems unusually dark. Out of curiosity, I step closer to look at what may lie behind the cabinet doors. My stomach churns in disgust as I immediately regret my decision to examine its contents. Inside are hundreds- if not thousands - of fat, black leeches crammed inside and wriggling around. There are so many inside that I can now see that the doors are bulging outwards quite a bit, like they could literally burst open at any given moment.
I dry heave a bit as I immediately back away. Who crams a cabinet full of leeches?! Why leeches of all the creatures small enough to cram into a cabinet well over its max capacity?! Between the dirty floor and the leech-filled cabinet, I think I’m going to be very, very sick. Ugh, so gross! Now I really, really don’t want to know what’s in the storage closet! I see no point in staying here any longer. I might be in a shit ton of pain and suffering from severe memory loss, but it’s at least somewhat tolerable for the time being. I just need to find my way to the nearest exit and go home. Er, well, maybe not home . You know, no memories and all. Just… literally anywhere but here.
With yet another sigh, I turn towards the door and twist the knob to open it. When the door refuses to budge, I raise an eyebrow and try opening the door in the opposite direction. When it refuses to budge once again, I start to grow worried. Alright, okay, no need to panic. The door is clearly just locked. No matter which side the lock is on, a locked door isn’t going to open if the lock is engaged. Perfectly reasonable. I look for the lock under the knob and find there isn’t a spot for one. Okay, yeah, no, this is fine. Maybe the door is locked with a deadbolt. That’s normal, that’s reasonable. Lots of doors have them. Yet, when I look up, I find no deadbolt on this side of the door. By all appearances, this door had no locks on it whatsoever. Considering the sensitive or ‘dangerous’ items typically kept within an infirmary, having no locks at all is certainly a poor security measure.
If there was no lock, that meant two things. Option ‘A’; The door was locked from the other side and therefore I was merely just locked in the room. Based solely on the placement of the hinges, the door clearly opens outwards and presumably into a hallway or office. Introducing option ‘B’, the only other reasonable explanation; Something on the other side was pushed up against the door, therefore preventing it from opening normally. I might not have any of my memories, but I’m pretty sure that locks are placed on the inside of the room you’re trying to secure and not on the outside where anypony could easily open it. Maybe I could be very wrong about this, considering the cabinet that’s crammed full of leeches , but I’m sure the door is just blocked by a desk or chair or something on the other side.
I quietly scoff at myself for getting a little worked up over the door not opening when the answer was so simple and obvious. I’m sure the dreadful nightmare I had just has me feeling a little paranoid. Ghosts, demons and monsters don’t exist… Right? Ugh, what’s gotten ahold of me? Of course they don’t. Okay, focus. I’m getting off track. I need this door open and standing here staring off into space and debating the existence of the supernatural isn’t going to open it. If it did, I’m sure the door would be open by now.
I’m in way too much pain as it is to even consider breaking the door down enough to leave. If I was a unicorn and could see the object obstructing the door, I could probably clear the jam with some good old fashioned magic and leave easy-peasy like. Too bad I wasn’t. Wait, was I? A quick pat of my head confirms that I am, in fact, not a unicorn and an equally quick glance at my sides confirms I’m not a pegasus either. Back to the matter at hoof, how am I going to get out of here? I can’t help but wonder if the same pony who brought me here also locked me in. If they did, why? What reason could they have? To protect me… or to protect themself? How would locking me in here protect anypony besides myself? On the same note, why would I lock myself in here if I did wander in on my own? Better yet, how would I have ever accomplished that??
So many questions, yet there were zero answers to be found. I glance back at the desk, cabinets and bed inside the infirmary. This place was clearly very old, practically ancient. Maybe the door wasn’t locked or jammed per se, but just a little stuck in place. After all, I hadn’t been tugging on the door that hard. I only put in enough effort to get the door to open a little, not to throw it open or off the hinges. I try opening the door again and again, putting more force into it with each twist and shove. I keep going until I feel like I’m going to pull it off its hinges. What little bit the door does move, it loudly slams back every time I try to force it open. With a frustrated sigh, I back away from the door and wish I had a bat to beat some sense into it.
I’m not ready to just give up and call it quits, but I’m unsure of what I’m going to do now. A hurricane couldn’t knock this door down even if it tried and then called tornadoes in for back up! Maybe there’s a tool of some sort I could use to open the door? Like, perhaps something I could use as a screwdriver to take the hinges off and open it that way? I immediately reject the notion of stepping in anywhere remotely close to the leechy cabinet to check the drawers. With the way my luck seems to be, either what I need will be in one of those drawers or the cabinet will burst open while I’m checking them. Nothing good either way you slice it.
I meander over to the desk and try opening the drawers in search of something useful. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I pull, the desk drawers refuse to budge even in the slightest. It’s almost as if they’re there solely for decorational purposes instead of having any functionality. Given this is a place of ‘healing’, it seems a little odd they would put a desk with fake drawers in here. Then again, I suppose there’s been absolutely nothing exactly normal in this room thus far, so maybe I shouldn’t be too surprised. I try the filing cabinets just for the hell of it, but find identical issues with their drawers. They, too, refuse to budge at all no matter the amount of force I put into opening them. Seriously, what the fuck? I know they’re dented up, but there’s no reason they shouldn’t open! There’s not even a lock on them or the desk drawers for that matter!
Whatever. Maybe this just isn’t a real infirmary. For all I know, this could be an incredibly old set for a long abandoned movie. Hell, maybe it’s one of those haunted house places that’s not being used due to it being out of season! Both make sense and on the brighter side, those leeches could easily be fake and just look incredibly real! That… yeah, that has to be it, right? On the other hoof, that just adds even more questions to the tally. It doesn’t really explain anything. It just really only serves to comfort me a little bit. I guess I should try looking in the storage closet, assuming it’s even unlocked… or capable of opening for that matter.
I turn and walk over to the closet door and turn the handle. Much to my surprise, it actually opens and creaks eerily as I slowly pull it open. The inside of the closet is unnaturally dark, like an obsidian void ready to swallow me whole. I hesitate, the door mostly ajar and my hoof still on the handle. That knot in my stomach makes itself known once more and grows bigger the longer I stare into the darkness. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I’m just severely overthinking it. I let go of the door handle and step forward to brave the dark void before me just long enough to find some sort of lightswitch. The moment I take a second step, I’m sent flying backwards by some invisible force.
I land on my back and fall over on my right side with a loud grunt of pain. My breath is momentarily knocked out of me as something a bit sharp jabs into my side. Before I can even move a muscle, a spine chilling groan erupts from the storage closet and gradually grows louder and louder until it feels like it’s rattling my brain around in my skull. Everything in the room begins to rattle and shake and the lights flicker off and on more aggressively. My eyes remain glued to the closet as I jump to my hooves and back even further away from it. The groaning suddenly stops and is replaced by the sounds of somepony gurgling, choking and hacking.
The rattling and shaking continue along with the sounds coming from the closet. My heart beats against my chest as I stare ahead of me in fear, completely helpless and unable to escape. What appears to be a hoof emerges from the dark void as the guttural noises continue. Much like in my nightmare, I’m rooted to the spot and completely paralyzed by fear as… it fully emerges from the closet. What looks- or, perhaps more aptly, used - to be a mare stands just outside the closet’s threshold. Her head has been split open, right down the center. Where part of her skull and bits of her orange mane used to be, the keyboard for the infirmary computer is planted in their place. Parts of her rotted brain are exposed, her horn is snapped nearly completely in half and is just barely still attached.
Dried blood trails all the way down her face and stops half way down her neck. The blood trail stops just above the old school cord attached to the clunky mouse belonging to the infirmary computer. It’s been wrapped tightly around her neck to the point that it looks as if it’s been embedded into and grown over by her pale blue skin. I… I guess that solves the mystery of the missing mouse and keyboard. I whimper in fear as she steps forward, still making those awful noises. I notice her eyes are rolled so far back into her head that all I can see is her horribly bloodshot sclera. Her head and neck twitch in a rather disturbing manner as she takes another step forward. With a wet, weird ‘squelch’ , her eyes roll back forward and lock onto me. A look of intense, burning hatred is spread across her face as she takes another step forward.
“This is all your fault! I hate you! I’m dead and the pain goes on for eternity! I hate you! I hate you! This is all your fault!” The mare shouts loudly, her accusatory words laced with a potent venom.
I open my mouth to tell her she has the wrong pony, that I’ve never seen her before and I certainly had no part to play in her demise. That’s what I led myself to believe, at least. I don’t think I’m capable of murdering anypony! I try to speak again, however, all the comes out are terrified whimpers. My words are gone and all that’s left is pure fear. The angry ghost of a mare continues to shout the same thing over and over again as she steps forward slowly, bit by bit. A scream of fear escapes my throat as I bolt towards the door and desperately try to open it with every ounce of my strength I can muster. I continuously look from the door to the ghostly mare and back again as I struggle and cry out in fear. At this point, she’s halfway across the room and the door still refuses to budge. When I look back at her again, a black almost liquidy mist pours out from every orifice in her body and completely engulfs her to the point that I can hardly tell she used to be a pony at all.
It's so vaguely pony-shaped and the way it sways in a non-existent breeze is somehow more terrifying than her previous form. From the mist appears two pink glowing lights that I assume are her new form’s eyes. Her shouting turns into screaming and becomes utterly incomprehensible as I continue to struggle with the door. At this point, I’m so desperate to escape that I ignore the pain and throw my body against the door in hopes of breaking it down. The… thing coming towards me is only a yard from me when suddenly the door gives way and I’m dumped onto the floor of a hallway. A noise of fear and surprise escapes my throat as I fall.
I quickly scramble to my hooves and away from the door a bit before I buck the door shut behind me. I turn to face the door, my heart racing along with my breath at a million miles an hour. Had she been keeping me trapped in there until she made her terrifying, grand reveal?! What the fuck?! How… How could such a horrible thing exist?? I back away from the door and turn away to look down the hall. The moment of reprieve is cut short when the door violently swings open and ripped from its hinges. I scream and gallop away right as the misty demonic mare charges at me. I narrowly avoid her attack and she crashes into the wall with a loud crack . I glance back to see she’s nearly shattered a hole in the wall where she crashed.
I come to a fork at the end of this hall that splits off into three directions. I have only seconds to decide on which direction to choose, if even that. The floor of the hall directly ahead of me is almost completely missing, leaving a big gaping hole in its place. Each of these halls are lined with burgundy colored lockers, with the exception of the places where the floor simply isn’t there. Without thinking I bolt down the right hall and almost immediately screech to halt. A section of the floor is missing in this hall as well and I nearly run straight into an ominously deep-looking hole. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I immediately double back and make for the only hall that isn’t missing the majority of its flooring. I scream as I dive for the floor and slide a couple of feet forward, once again just narrowly avoiding another attack from the misty demon.
I scramble to my hooves and continue down the hall as fast as they will carry me. I get to the end of the hall and take an immediate left without stopping or slowing down, which causes me to slide a bit and nearly lose my balance as I go to continue forwards. I yelp as something wet and sticky wraps around my back left fetlock and yanks me backwards, the complete opposite direction I want to go. I scream as I fall onto the floor and am promptly dragged across it. Something somewhat sharp jabs into my side and digs in as I’m dragged. Whatever had a hold of my leg lets go right as the misty demon catches up to me. Just when I think this is the end of the line for me, a long, wet and pink colored tongue whips by me and wraps itself tightly around the demon hunting me down. It screams loudly and I’m unsure if it’s out of anger, fear or pain or if it’s a mixture of the three.
All I can do is watch from the floor as the demon is snatched forward by the tongue. I look behind me and watch as the demon is being forced into the fourth most locker in a row of five lining the dead end section of the hall. The demon wails in what clearly comes across as pain as the monstrosity dwelling within the locker tries to consume it. Despite its struggles, the misty demon ultimately ends up losing the battle and is pulled into the shadowy depths of the locker. The door slams shut as I hear what sounds like flesh ripping and being chewed up and bones crunching and snapping. The sounds echo throughout the halls for what feels almost like an eternity until it suddenly stops.
A loud burp ripples through the halls as the locker rattles. Following it is a high pitched giggle and the voice of the monster within excusing ‘herself’ for the ‘unfilly like’ burp. I stare at the locker in a mix of fear and shock as I shakily rise to my hooves. Should… Should I thank her… it... for saving me? A pair of yellow glowing eyes appear behind the vents at the top of the locker and peer down at me. The thing inside giggles again, as if amused by the look on my face.
“I-I, uh… th-thanks? F-for eating th-that… thing,” I stammer, my words shaky and unsure.
“Teehee~! You’re welcome!” The voice says rather cheerfully with yet another giggle “glad to see you’re not dead~!”
“D-Did you save me o-or are you… are y-you going to e-eat me too?” I question as I cautiously approach the locker.
She… it… is glad to see I’m not dead? I… I-I guess I should be thankful that I’m not .
“That depends, do you want me to eat you, mommy~?” The voice counters in a teaseful tone.
I’m taken aback by the voice inside the locker addressing me as ‘mommy’. The voice is high pitched and sounds young. Too young, like that of a young filly. My fear mostly subsides and is almost replaced with a mixture of confusion and… sadness?
“Er, uh… I, uh… I-I think I would rather n-n-not be eaten t-today,” I stammer as I awkwardly rub my neck.
“Okie dokie! Then, yeah! I saved ya from that scary bitch !” The voice cheerfully exclaims "teehee~ don't worry, I'm allowed to say bad words as long as they're true! I won't get in trouble for saying the b-word!"
I’m taken aback once again, not just because the voice of what I assume to be a child just cursed but mostly because of the way she says the word ‘bitch’. It comes out as a demonic growl, a stark contrast to her sweet sounding voice. Say what you will, but I find myself to be in agreeance with her little rule. As long as it's true, it doesn’t matter how harsh you say things.
“A-are you a child?” I ask, my curiosity once again getting the better of me.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I guess so. I mean, I’ve been here for a super duper long time, but when I first got here I was a child,” The voice replies “but then something really bad happened and I don’t think… I’m alive anymore.”
“I-I’m sorry t-to hear that. Ho-How did you get here a-a-and what ha-happened to you?” I ask as I take a single step forward.
Perhaps it wasn't the wisest of ideas, all things considered, but I guess this being the supposed spirit of a young child puts me at enough ease to get closer. If anything, I should really be on a higher level of alertness and distrust. After all, she did just gobble up that demon like it was nothing. I'll admit that I am thankful she saved me, though.
“Well, I was born in a place that was like a jail or something. My mommy and daddy were there, but then some really mean ponies made us come here to this place,” The voice replies “I don’t remember much about coming here, though, so I’m sorry about that. Oh! But then me and mommy got separated from daddy after a while and then we found him dead!”
How… blunt and honest. She must've been very young when she arrived in this place. Young foals tend to overshare and never sugarcoat what they say. They just spit out their honest opinions. Well, I think so at least. I can't remember if I've ever met a child of any age, though.
“O-oh. I… I’m so sor-” My sentence is cut short as the voice inside continues.
“Somepony took his head, but we still knew it was daddy because of his cutiemark. Mommy died next after I got hurt and she took me to the nurse’s office to get better. That meanie I just ate was the one who killed her. She came out the closet and ate my mommy while I ran away. She had always been in the nurse's office and never left and I'm not able to leave this locker either, so I've been waiting a long time to eat her,” The voice explains, sounding a little bit sad “oh, but before that I was alone for a long time. I got scared and hid inside this locker, but I guess that was a mistake.”
Poor thing. Found her father dead and then watched her mother die. I'm a little surprised she isn't angry. Maybe she didn't quite understand everything that happened to her, but you think she'd sound more upset. Honestly, I figured she'd be more angry- and therefore more dangerous- than that demonic mare from the infirmary. Perhaps I’ve come to judge her too quickly?
“Wh-why? D-Did something g-get you while y-you hid?” I question, taking another step closer.
She just ate that monster chasing me, so maybe she's too full to eat anypony else. I'm going to be so mad if I'm wrong and end up dying, but I keep stepping closer under the belief that the filly inside is friendly. Maybe she'll view me as a friend and keep me on the 'no snacking on' list?
“Yup! A really scary looking mare with long pointy legs found me hiding and then when she opened the door, she said some words that I didn’t understand,” The voice explains “and then all of a sudden, everything hurt really bad and I became stuck in here. Then, I turned into a monster too! Now I’m a locker that just eats ponies. It hurts a lot and the pain never, ever goes away. I'm also always, always sooo hungry! Sometimes I accidentally eat ponies when I don't want to because I can’t control my powers. If it didn't hurt so much and I wasn't always hungry, I think I would find it super duper cool!"
Scratch that. Even if I was on the list of ponies to avoid eating, that means that there's a likely probability that she could or would still eat me. That is if she's being truthful with me, but she's been nothing but honest with me so far. Maybe a bit too much, if I'm being honest. Then again, this could be a total lie and I'm just being manipulated into trusting her so she'll eat me when I've let my guard down. I'm probably reading too much into it, but then again, maybe I'm not. Ugh. Not knowing shit is annoying.
“I-I see. W-well, th-thank you again for saving me,” I say with a nervous smile “c-can I ask why you called me ‘mommy’ earlier?”
“Oh, whoopsies! It was by accident, but you kind of look like my mommy just a little bit, so that’s probably why,” The voice says with another giggle "she had pretty hair like yours!"
“I see. What’s your name?” I ask as I take another step forward and then sit down on the ground in front of the locker.
I'll take my chances and trust her. Maybe I can get some kind of information out of her. I doubt she'll be able to tell me anything about myself, but at the very least I'll gain some information about where I am. Finding out about myself can wait. I need to know where I am and what dangers await me. Correct me if I’m wrong, but dying won't help me gain my memories back.
“My name? Oh, it’s… um…” The voice trails off and sighs sadly “I don’t remember. I know I had one, though! I remember my mommy used to call me her ‘precious sunshine’, so maybe my name is Sunshine!”
“Sunshine? Well, I… I, uh, suppose we could just call you that from now on,” I say with another nervous smile.
“Yay! I like that! What’s your name, miss? You look like you’ve been beaten up! Do you want me to eat whoever hurt you? You’ve been really nice to me, so I’ll eat anypony you want me to!” Sunshine rambles a bit excitedly “I say that 'cuz most ponies don’t talk to me! They just run away and scream!”
“Er, well, did you eat their friends? That could be why they run and scream, but, uh, well to answer your question I… Well, I don’t know what my name is either, Sunny,” I say with a small sigh.
“Oh! I know! You remind me of a pretty pink flower! How about we call you… hmm. Oh! Oh! How about ‘Begonia’ or-or ‘Dahlia’, huh? Those are both pretty flowers that are kind of pink!” Sunshine says excitedly “aw, but there are so many pretty pink flowers that we could use for your name! It’s hard to pick one, but I think I like ‘Dahlia’ the best!”
“Dahlia, huh? You know, I think I like that one the best too, Sunshine,” I say with a small smile “if I meet anypony else, I’ll be sure to use the name you’ve given me.”
“Same! Oh, I have a question for you! My mommy told me there were lots and lots of other ponies who were forced to come here, but we also found notes left behind that said some came here willingly . How did you end up here in this school, Miss Dahlia? Willingly or by force?” Sunshine questions, hey glowing eyes shifting around behind the vents.
“I wish I could answer that question myself. I seem to be suffering from severe memory loss,” I answer with a small shrug “all I know is I found myself in the infirmary, tried to escape and then I was actively pursued by that… thing you ate. Oh, and then I was saved by you.”
‘In this school’. So that’s what this place is? Well, I guess it checks out. Not sure what kind of non-school building would have numerous lockers lined up in hallways. I guess now the next question would be what school are we currently in? A college or university? A high school? A not-so-prestigious private academy? I sigh mentally. When will the questions end?
“Oh, dang. I don’t remember some stuff either, but not remembering anything at all must really suck butt,” Sunshine says sympathetically.
“Yeah, it sucks butt real hard,” I say with a small chuckle “this place seems really dangerous, Sunshine. Can you tell me what you know about it?”
“I sure can! Mommy read me a note once that said this place was called, uh… uh… Oh! ‘Sandalwood Coast Academy’ and-and apparently it was made a long, long, long time ago,” Sunshine happily explains “but mama called it ‘horseshit’ and called somepony a liar, so maybe that’s not true. Anyways , this school is super, duper haunted by ghosts and other monsters kind of like me. So that means danger is afoot everywhere in here!”
“I see. This place has certainly been dangerous thus far. Is there anything else you can tell me? What about that pointy legged mare you mentioned earlier?” I question as I tilt my head to the side.
“Some ghosts are nice, even some of the monsters, but others aren’t. They’re super mean, so I wouldn’t talk to them. I’ve even seen a few living ponies like you and the same applies to them. I’ve seen ponies who seem like friends murder each other in cold blood and a few have even sacrificed their friends to me just to escape,” Sunshine explains, still as chipper as ever.
“Oh, whoops! About that mare with long, point legs. I don’t know much about her other than she’s really scary looking and the most dangerous thing here. Even the other ghosts and monsters avoid her!” Sunshine quickly adds.
“What does she look like?” I ask with a warm smile.
“Yeesh. No offense, but you ask a lot of questions, Miss Dahlia. I wish I could tell you the answer to that, but I don’t remember other than she was scary and had those long, pointy legs,” Sunshine replies “so I guess if you see a mare with legs like those, you should just run away and pray she doesn’t catch you.”
“I get the feeling I’m going to be doing a lot of praying before I get out of here,” I say with a sigh.
“Huh? There’s a way out of here?” Sunshine asks in a very confused tone.
“Well, there has to be a way out. I mean, if you were brought here from somewhere else, that means there’s got to be an exit somewhere in here,” I reply in a hopeful tone.
“I guess that makes sense. We were told it was a one-way trip and we wouldn’t be leaving,” Sunshine says.
“Sounds like whoever it was intended on leaving you here to die,” I accidentally say aloud.
Shit. I meant to keep that to myself. It’s not like its new news or was supposed to be a secret, but still. No telling how she could or would react. I need to be more careful or I’ll wind up being dessert. I mean, it’s not my fault she was sentenced to her death along with her parents. Even so, Sunshine just admitted she can’t fully control her powers. Whether or not the anger is directed towards me, any bit of it could result in my death.
“Oh. They must be really, really evil or something to knowingly send ponies to their death,” Sunshine says a bit quietly.
A moment of silence falls between us. I fidget in place nervously. I really hope she’s not going to eat me for saying that, even if it’s not my fault that either of us are in the positions that we are.
“Miss Dahlia, will you promise to come say goodbye before you leave? I don’t want you to die, so I really hope you escape, but I am going to miss you and your pretty hair,” Sunshine says in a mixture of encouragement and sadness.
“O-Of course. I promise I’ll say goodbye before I leave. I wish I could fix you and bring you with me. I’m sorry to say, but I think your predicament is… permanent,” I say sympathetically.
“I think the only way to ‘fix’ me now would be to kill me,” Sunshine says rather matter-of-factly “er, well, I guess I should add ‘again’ to that.”
“Is that something you want?” I ask softly.
Sunshine grows quiet for a moment, then begins to hum softly as she thinks about my question. I think if I were in her shoes, I’d want somepony to put an end to my suffering.
“Will I be with my mommy and daddy if I die again?” Sunshine asks after a while.
“Of course. I’m sure they’re waiting somewhere for you in heaven,” I say with a warmer smile.
That couldn’t be further from how I actually feel. I don’t think I’m a religious mare, but right now I don’t believe there’s an afterlife; which is a bit ironic, I suppose, considering the close brush with death I’ve had. Even if there was an afterlife, though, I couldn’t say if her parents are really in heaven or if they’ve been sent down to rot eternally in the fire and brimstone. I didn't know them or rather, I couldn't recall if I did. For all I knew, they could've been horrible ponies… or completely innocent saints. I don't… wait, did I say brimstone? That sounds… oddly familiar for some reason.
I sigh softly. I don’t like lying to Sunshine, mostly because she could literally devour me if she knew I was, but I also couldn’t say for sure if she would even be able to go to heaven- if it existed. I know none of this is her fault, especially the whole ‘being turned into a monster’ part, but eating other ponies has probably damned her to hell. Assuming that, too, even exists. Regardless, she's clearly suffering and I think it would be cruel to let her continue to do so.
“Hmm. Then, yeah! Blow me up in lots and lots of chunks! That’s how I want to go!” Sunshine exclaims in a rather disturbingly cheerful tone.
“Y-you… want me to… blow you up?” I ask, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion.
“Yeah, why not? It’ll be super quick and plus, it’ll be kinda funny too!” Sunshine replies with a giggle.
“I… I feel like I should be concerned that you find potentially having yourself blown up ‘kinda funny’? But yes, I will agree it would be a relatively quick death if done correctly,” I say with a nervous cough.
I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by this. Who knows how long she’s been trapped in here, seen what she’s seen and suffered how she has? Having died as a child and then warped into a forever-hungry locker monster, it should come at no surprise her mental health has taken a major hit and made her a bit, uh… unstable, to say the least. I need to steer this conversation back on track. It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed the time spent with Sunshine here, but quite frankly, I feel I’ve wasted way too much time. There’s just a couple of things I need to find out before I can politely excuse myself and go.
“Sorry, I know I’ve asked you several questions, but I have just a couple of more if that’s okay,” I say with an apologetic smile.
“It’s alright, Miss Dahlia, I like talking to you! Ask away!” Sunshine exclaims with a giggle.
“I’m not entirely sure if I’m right, but I have a strong suspicion that somepony brought me to the infirmary. You didn’t happen to get a good look at whoever it was, did you?” I ask as I stand up “it seems this is the only viable way to the nurse’s office, so I feel correct in assuming they had to pass by your locker. Er, you, I mean.”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah! I’m not sure how long ago it was, but somepony definitely brought you to the nurse’s office. I remember ‘cuz I did try to eat you, but she wouldn’t let me,” Sunshine says in that usual cheerfully matter-of-fact tone of hers.
“Oh! Sorry, I guess that was a bit mean of me, but if it makes you feel any better, I’m really, really glad I didn’t!” She adds apologetically.
Geez, how thoughtful. I guess that’s what she meant earlier when she said she was glad I wasn’t dead. I shouldn’t get mad about her almost eating me earlier, I suppose. At that moment in time, we were total strangers. Not that that justifies me almost having been eaten, but at least I could consider her a friend now. My only friend presently, though I found myself not particularly caring if I had any friends at all. Even though she could still eat me at any given moment, with or without her desire to do so, I was alive and I suppose part of that is thanks to Sunshine. Whether that was mostly due to her not eating me to begin with or her saving me from that infirmary demon, I couldn’t really say.
“Well, I’m still breathing and my heart’s still pumping, so water under the bridge and all that. I don’t mean to be, well, mean , but I’d like to move on,” I say, forcing a big smile “you said ‘she’ wouldn’t let you eat me. Could you describe what ‘she’ looked like?”
“She was very scary looking, Miss Dahlia. My tongue almost caught your leg and she looked at me with this very scary, mean look! I don’t remember exactly what she said, but she yelled at me to leave you alone or she’d…” Sunshine trails off and hums quietly “do something awful to me, I’m sure. She was very protective, like my mommy was of me! Oh, but I guess that doesn’t really answer your question, does it?”
“Not particularly, but it’s quite alright. Do continue,” I say politely.
“You must be a very, very kind pony, Miss Dahlia, because the friend that saved you was a ghost! I say you must be really kind ‘cuz that's the only type of pony I think could be friends with a ghost and a monster like me!” Sunshine exclaims happily, but still missing the point.
“Ghosts come in all shapes, colors and sizes, Sunshine. Can you give me a bit more detail?” I ask, this time forcing my politeness just a bit.
For somepony who’s been turned into a flesh eating monster who dwells within a locker, I will admit Sunshine is a fairly sweet filly. However, her tendency to only half answer my questions or go a bit off topic was wearing my patience and politeness quite thin. I really hate to say that, even if it’s to myself. I just really want to get the hell out of this school and find a way to restore my memories.
“She was all blue and glowy and see-through. Oh, and she was missing her left eye! Hmm… oh! Also, her hair was short and had this strand of hair that was curled into a heart,” Sunshine replies, finally hitting the nail on the head “I don’t remember anything else, though. I’m sorry, Miss Dahlia.”
“It’s alright, Sunshine. Thank you for giving me what you could remember,” I say, maintaining my big smile “blue, glowing and transparent with a missing eye and a heart shaped piece of hair. All things considered, I think I’ll remember that.”
“I’m glad I can help you, Miss Dahlia. Got anymore questions? I’ll answer them as best as I can!” Sunshine says with yet another giggle.
“No, I think I’ve learned all I need to know. I’m sure more information about this school- and myself- will arise as I make my way out of here,” I say as I nod my head appreciatively.
“Okie dokie, then! Are you leaving now?” Sunshine asks.
“Yes, Sunny. It was very nice meeting you and talking with you. Thank you for everything. You’ve been very kind and helpful,” I say as I turn to leave.
“Bye, Miss Dahlia! Good luck out there!” Sunshine exclaims cheerfully.
I politely nod my head and begin to walk away from Sunshine and her locker. I didn’t need it spelled out for me, I already knew I wasn’t going to get out of here anytime soon. There were several reasons why, but I needed to focus on one thing at a time. Escaping is the end goal, but finding the ghostly mare who brought me to the infirmary is going to be my current one. I’m not entirely sure what I’ll do after I find her and get some more answers, but I’m sure I’ll figure that out along the way.
“Wait! Wait, Miss Dahlia! I have something to give you!” Sunshine calls out.
I stop and turn around to face her before making my way back over to her locker. The locker door flies open, causing me to flinch and take a step back. From the dark void inside, a very disturbing sight emerges into the dim hallway. What I believe to be her tongue is twisted and contorted into the very meaty shape of a young filly with short ‘curly hair’ and glowing yellow dots floating in the dips of her ‘face’ that I assume to be her eye sockets. I guess the look of shock and disgust was apparent on my face judging by the giggle sunshine gives me, her ‘body’ jiggling and wiggling in a very gross way as she does so.
“One of the ponies I ate recently had this bag of stuff on them. It wasn’t very tasty, so I held onto them and now I’m giving them to you,” Sunshine says cheerfully.
Getting a, uh… ‘good’ look at her now, her cheerful tone and disposition was now less cute and more disturbing. I think I liked her better when she was just a pair of glowing eyes behind the locker vents. I watch as the end of her tongue snakes into the void and then produces a very worn looking saddlebag. She plops it down right in front of me before retracting her tongue. I stare at it and watch as little drops of what I pray is saliva drip from the strap and onto the tile floor. I grimace at the thought of touching something that’s been in her mouth- or inside her in general.
“Sorry, I know it’s a little gross, but I think the stuff inside of it might help you out a little,” Sunshine says “think of it as thank you for being so nice to me and for promising to say goodbye before you go!”
“Er, you’re very welcome for… that. Thank… you for the… bag,” I say through a forced smile.
I pick up the saddlebag carefully to avoid getting saliva on my hoof. I undo the clasp and toss the lid flap open. Inside the bag is a cheap looking flashlight made of yellow and black plastic, a couple of spare batteries, a single key on a small keyring and… a very oddly shaped stone? It’s gray and small, roughly a foot in size and so very… peculiar. It’s shaped like two diamonds stacked atop one another with a half of one at the very end. I get the feeling this stone is going to end up being very important.
I close the bag and redo the clasp before quickly wiping as much of the saliva off as I can. I wipe my hoof off on the floor and fasten the saddlebag securely around my waist. Maybe it just didn’t register when I glanced at my back earlier, but I’m just now realizing that I’m wearing a pair of black slacks and apparently also a brown turtleneck sweater. I guess I was just too preoccupied earlier to really notice I was wearing anything at all.
“See you later, Miss Dahlia. Hope that stuff can be of some help,” Sunshine says as she disappears back into her locker.
“See you later,” I say simply, forcing a thankful smile.
I turn around and walk away for the second time. Up ahead is a stairwell that appears ominously dark. Ugh. Why is everything so dark and creepy?? It’s starting to get annoying. I pause at the top of the stairs and look back at Sunshine. I hope I’m able to return and say goodbye like I promised. I’m sure Sunshine would never forgive me if I broke it. I sigh softly as I look forward and make my way down the stairs. Each step creaks and groans as I descend into the darkness until I can’t see a thing. I… I really should’ve taken out the flashlight before going down instead of leaving myself to fumble around to fish it out.
I really shouldn’t be putting anything in my mouth that was inside of Sunshine’s, but I believe it would be wise to keep my hooves free for the time being… just in case. The flashlight turns on with a click before I bite down on it firmly. For something so cheap looking, it produces a fair amount of light that slices through the darkness. Well, enough standing around, I suppose. I’ve already stayed way too long in this place as it is, now it’s time to get the hell out of here… and hopefully figure out who I am in the process.
[Chapter 2]: Fragments of the Past
A growl of frustration slices through the silence permeating the ruined halls of Sandalwood Coast Academy. I back away from the door I had just been attempting to open and huff angrily. I couldn’t say for sure how long I’ve been wandering inside this school, but every door and locker I’ve come across has refused to open. In every case, the handles or dials have refused to turn in the slightest and no amount of force made the doors move. Not even the key given to me by Sunshine works on them. I’ve tried. Every. Single. One up to this point. It’s almost as if the doors are all just for show, just mere props with no actual use.
Although it may lay in near total ruin and supposedly severely infested with ghosts, demons and other monsters, this was clearly a functional school at some point. By no means was this school small, either. Quite the opposite. Why have a whole floor of non-existent classrooms with fake doors and lockers that don’t open? Why waste money doing so? It made just about as much sense as a fish born with wheels. That being said, I don’t quite understand why I’m getting as frustrated as I am. It’s not like this school has done anything to prove it’s normal and the same goes for everything that may or may not call this place ‘home’. I guess my brain is just desperate for things to be logical and rational instead of being, well, not that .
I exhale sharply as I survey my surroundings. Sandalwood Coast Academy is an absurdly large school with an odd layout. It wasn’t until after I had descended down to the next floor that I realized I likely started on the very top floor of the school, which meant the infirmary was situated in a very odd place. It would make so much more sense for it to be on the first floor, but maybe there’s a slim chance they placed an infirmary on the top floor in addition to the first. I guess it’s more likely that the school was built in a nonsensical way on purpose, perhaps for the sake of being ‘unique’ to bring in more students or something. A 'you've got to see it to believe' kind of exclusive experience. All things considered, I’m sure I have every right to overthink and question everything I’ve experienced and observed, but yet I also felt that maybe I was going a little overboard with it all.
I make my way down the hall and wonder how exactly this place is as dangerous as Sunshine made it out to be. With the exception of the demon Sunshine ate and whatever caused me to suffer enough trauma to completely forget everything about myself, I’ve experienced absolutely no trouble. I pause in my tracks and reach over to the nearby wall. The top half is painted a peachy color that’s faded, cracked, chipped and peeling. In other words, old and in desperate need of repair. The bottom half is made of a spruce wood paneling, which my hoofs knocks on a solid three times. Best not to jinx myself, after all. If I talk too much shit, the school might overhear and try to pull one over on me.
I continue down the hallway until I pass by a set of bathrooms. I bite my bottom lip and cross my back legs as I’m suddenly hit with the realization that I have to piss. Badly. I didn’t realize I had even been holding it in to begin with. I whisper a half-assed prayer before entering the filly’s room. I know I’m going to be pretty vulnerable while I relieve myself and saying a little prayer of protection- no matter how poorly worded or attempted- couldn’t hurt. The room is unsurprisingly dark, prompting me to take out my flashlight and turn it on. I trot over to the first stall and push the door open. However, the door bounces close almost immediately. Odd, but something’s clearly blocking the door. No need to get worked up, Dahlia, I’ll just… move on to the next one.
I try the second stall and am met with the same scenario. I move onto the third, fourth and fifth stalls and I find I cannot enter them either. I try to the sixth stall and this time, the door opens much wider than others but stops half way. I poke my head around the door to get a look at what’s blocking my way and am immediately floored with regret and terror. Hanging from the beam crossing over the stalls is a young filly, her pale, rigid body swaying slightly from the door bumping into it. She’s been strung up with a multicolor jump rope which has squeezed her neck into an hourglass shape. Judging by her overall state, this poor child has been dead for a long time. Nausea washes over me as I back away from the stall and shine my flashlight upwards. I grimace as I observe in every stall is some form of noose tied to the beam and although I couldn’t see the ponies inside, I could only imagine they were in a similar- if not worse- state as the filly in the last stall.
This is horrible! What could have driven these individuals to suicide? I can't stay here, I need to leave. Somehow this discovery has made the air in here suffocating. I shudder as I quickly trot to the exit, open the door and leave. I hate the idea of it, but it seems if I wish to relieve myself, I'll have to use the colt's room. I look around to ensure a clear coast before quickly entering the colt's room. I know there hasn't been a soul to be seen, but even so, I guess I don't want to be judged for going in here. Then again, desperate times call for desperate measures and perhaps that's something these ghosts understand. Almost immediately, my nose is assaulted with the foul stench of ammonia. Everywhere I've been has had a musty, stale odor with a hint of death to it. It was gross, but not as gross at the way this bathroom smelt. Even Sunshine smelt better in comparison. I'd better go ahead and piss so I can get out of here before the smell clings to my clothes, skin or hair.
I trot over to the first stall and try the door. Thankfully, it opens without any problems and I'm able to walk in. I close the door behind me and get right down to business after removing my saddlebag and pants. A sense of relief washes over me as I finish. Luckily, there's toilet paper in the stall but it's yellow and wrinkled along the edges. At the very least, it's still usable. When I get out of here, I'm going to wash myself and my clothes a million times. Everything here is gross, gross, gross! I step away from the toilet and put my pants and saddlebag back on before reaching to flush the toilet. The handle just jiggles and the chain inside the tank clunks around, yet nothing happens. There must be no water in the tank. As gross as it is to leave piss sitting in the bowl to add to the ammonia permeating the air, there's nothing I can really do about it. Oh well, not that it really matters anyways.
I leave the stall and go over to the nearest sink. The sink is cracked, the faucet is rusty and the basin has mold creeping out from around the drain. I turn the handle and the pipe groans, but not a single drop of water comes out. On second thought, maybe that's for the better. There's no telling how disgusting the water might have been if the water was on. This place is a serious health hazard and I’m beginning to feel diseased just lingering here. I look up and the light reflects back into my eyes, making me instinctively squint and look away. Great, now I have greenish blue dots floating around in my vision.
An idea pops into my head as I take the flashlight out of my mouth and examine the mirror, being careful to avoid shining the light into my eyes again. Other than being cracked down the center and cloudy around the edges, the mirror was in a decent enough shape to reveal what I wanted to know. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of this sooner. What better way to remember who I am than to look at myself in the mirror? I fumble with the flashlight as I situate it in the sink to be able to see myself without being blinded or obscured behind the light. It takes me a minute, but eventually I get it to stay where I want it.
My heart beats against my chest in anticipation as I ready myself for the ‘big’ reveal. Oddly enough, I feel a bit nervous and I’m unsure why. I steel myself and look up. A loud gasp of shock involuntarily leaves my throat as I stare wide-eyed at my reflection. Staring back at me is the same mare with orange eyes, mulberry colored mane and pale yellow coat from my nightmare, only this time she looks entirely normal and frightened. What I can see of her neck is covered in long bruises. No, no! This can't be! That means it wasn't a nightmare after all! It… it was real?! This entire time I was the monstrous mare that attacked me in that horrible dream?!
I squeeze my eyes shut and rub them vigorously, desperately hoping it’s not true. When I open them again, nothing changes. Only my scared and confused reflection stares back at me instead of a different pony altogether. I was hoping for some answers, but all I’ve gotten instead is more questions! How could that nightmare have been reality? If I was that demented monster, why did I see myself from a different point of view? Why did the pain of my ear being ripped off feel so real? I don't understand! I groan in pain as my head starts to throb intensely. As I hold my head with a hoof, a forgotten memory suddenly comes to my mind in the form of a flashback.
I recall galloping as fast as my hooves would take me through the halls of a part of Sandalwood Coast I don't recognize. Fear is plastered across my face and it quickly becomes apparent that I'm fleeing from something- or perhaps more likely, somepony . I glanced behind me to see a mare with a watermelon colored coat and a long, curly ruddy-colored mane. For some odd reason, all identifying features- like her face and cutiemark- are blurred out. It’s almost like I’m not allowed to remember her properly. Although I can't see the expression on her face, I can tell she is just as afraid as I am as she trails closely behind me.
We round a corner, hop over some fallen debris and then quickly slide to a stop. A section of the floor ahead of us is- unsurprisingly- missing. Our only option is to go around via the classroom that is off to our right. With no hesitation, we enter the room and I quickly yet quietly close the door. I press my weight against the door after shutting it and struggle to catch my breath. I’m unsure how long we had been fleeing for, but judging by our breathing, I assume it was a good, long while. The silence that quickly filled the room was continuously interrupted by our heavy huffing and puffing. We make our way over to the door on the other end of the room, but quickly find that it's either locked or just plain refuses to budge open.
"What do we do now, Miss…?" The mare whispers in a panicky tone.
Her voice is warped and almost staticky, like my brain couldn't remember exactly what it sounded like. The staticky noise completely drowns out whatever came after 'Miss'. Another thing I'm not allowed to remember, apparently. I look around the room and spot a fallen bookshelf with desks and chairs piled on top of it. It’s the only place in the room decent enough to hide us from view, but with the room being so bare, I’m not sure what good hiding would do.
"Behind the bookshelf! Quickly!" I instruct in a whisper.
We quickly make our way over to the bookshelf and hide behind it. All we can do is wait and pray that whatever is chasing us will be unable to find us and leave. Forever. We aren’t as exactly perfectly hidden as I assumed we would be. In fact, we were just as much sitting ducks behind this bookshelf as we would be by the locked classroom door- or anywhere else, for that matter. The mare presses her warm body against mine and I can feel her trembling. I wrap my right leg around her shoulders and pull her close before resting my head atop of hers. I hold her hoof with my free one and gently squeeze hers.
We flinch as the door slams open and a terrifying roar shakes the entirety of the classroom. The mare beside me whimpers softly, prompting me to hold onto her a little tighter. We can hear the thing hunting us down stomping around the room and I notice a reddish glowing tint that shifts and moves along the walls and floor in sync with the stomping. This goes on for what feels like an eternity before growing suspiciously quiet. I take a risky chance and cautiously peek over the bookshelf and through gaps between the desks and chairs. The door has been left wide open, but it seems the only ponies in here are the two of us. Whatever was after her and I seems to be gone. I recall being hopeful that the monster gave up on finding us, but oddly enough not for my own sake. I suspect for the sake of this mare, who I assume is important to me, even if I can’t exactly recall why.
As if to mock me as soon as the words were thought of in my mind, the classroom door slams shut and the floor begins to shake again. Before us appears a very tall, slender and vaguely pony-shaped individual who seems to be made entirely out of fire, yet there was no warmth emitting from them whatsoever. Quite the opposite, actually. I recall a chill running up my spine, sending every hair follicle on my body to stand on end and tingle. There was no doubt this malicious spirit wanted to end our lives and possibly even consume our very souls. The mare and I momentarily remain where we lay on the floor, staring up at the monster before us in a mixture of shock and fear. The mare whimpers in fear and shrinks into me, nonverbally communicating her desire for me to protect her. Something I feel I’m all too happy to oblige.
The flaming monster roars loudly, shaking the room harder than before. Chairs and desks topple off the bookshelf and clatter loudly to the floor. The mare and I scream before scrambling to our hooves and making an attempt to flee. We get halfway to the end of the room before every desk and chair forms a barricade blocking the only viable path to get to the doors, as- like most of everywhere in the school- a lot of the floor was missing. A reddish-orange aura emanates from the barricade, indicating this was the work of the monster after us. I whip around and face the slowly approaching monster. The mare and I are slowly back into the corner of the classroom with nowhere left to run or hide. It seems this is going to be the end of the line for us, yet I recall feeling unbothered by this fact and instead feeling determined to protect the mare with me at all costs.
I adopt a protective stance and glare angrily at the approaching monster. It’s almost like it’s savoring every second we spend quaking in fear as it slowly grows near. However, any bit of fear left in me is quickly replaced by a mixture of anger and determination. Anger at this fiery demon-monster-thing for having the audacity to harm the mare behind me. Determination to keep her safe at all costs, including the loss of my own life… or worse. I look back at the mare behind me and give her the biggest, reassuring look I can muster.
“I meant what I said, you know. I’ll protect you no matter what, so go! Run! As far as you can, my treasure! I’ll buy you the time you’ll need to get out of here!” I reassuringly declare.
“What? No! I-I’m not going to leave-”
“I said go! Just go! Now!” I harshly interrupt her protest and momentarily glare at her.
Although I can’t see her face, I can tell she’s simply staring at me. Her ears flatten against her mane as she meekly nods her head.
“Please! D-Don’t leave me here all alone, Miss…! I-I’ll go, but please! Please find me!” The mare pleads.
Despite the staticky-ness of her voice, I can tell that it waivers and it's clear she’s on the verge of bursting into tears. I flash a big smile at her before looking forward and glaring at the monster once more. I glance around for something to use as a weapon and pry a loose piece of board off the floor. Angrily, I swing the board at the monster, which- in turn- makes it angry. It lunges at me and knocks me to the floor. I punch and kick at it, but every move seems to pass right through the monster.
I shake my head as the memory ends. Every bruise, scrape and cut begins to burn, like they’re permanently branding themselves into my skin. Why was that memory physically painful to remember? What happened after that? Dammit! Why couldn’t I remember more?! Is that how I ended up in the infirmary or did something even worse happen?! I have endless questions with no answers to be given and I fucking hate it! Whenever I get out of here, I think I’m going to drink myself stupid to forget any of this ever happened. Am I really going to be able to escape this place? Will I become trapped here, forever doomed to haunt these halls? No. No, I can't think like that! I will get out of here, I know it!
I forcibly snatch the flashlight from the sink and quickly turn around. I exit the colt’s room and put away my flashlight for the time being. A fire of anger and determination burns in my heart. I’m angry at my inability to recall my memories, but determined to get them back and get out of here all the same. One way or another, I’m going to accomplish that much, no matter what it may cost me. So long as it’s not my life, of course. I will not die here. I refuse to! No matter how much it may hurt, I will gladly give up an eye, limb or any other outer extremity if it means I’ll survive and get the fuck out of here!
My newfound passion to survive is momentarily put on hold to make way for the sudden shock and confusion that- quite literally- smacks me upside the back of my head. I grunt in pain as something small but solid is thrown at the back of my head with a surprising amount of force. A chorus of otherworldly giggles emanates from the filly’s room. I look back just in time to see several pairs of glowing blue eyes peering at me before the door slams shut all on its own. Er, well, I guess not really on its own. I suppose it would be more appropriate to say before the spirits shut the door, which clicks loudly as the giggles fade to silence. Did… Did they lock the door? Whatever. I didn’t plan on going back inside there anyways.
I rub the back of my head as I look down to find what hit me. On the floor is a spiral notebook with a floral design on the front and back. The background is black with an assortment of pink, yellow and orange flowers all over. The very center of the front cover simply reads ‘notebook’. Ah, yes, because clearly , I would have confused it with a shoebox were it not for the ‘helpful’ label on the front. I pick up the notebook and examine the outside. All things considered, the outside appears to be in pretty decent condition with the exception of a few scratches and a wrinkled corner. I sit down and open the notebook out of pure curiosity.
The spirits inside the filly’s room must either want me to have this or they want me to read what’s written inside, assuming there is anything. It’s also plausible that they just wanted to mess with me and this notebook was the only object they had to throw. No matter the reason, I’m reading this notebook now and I don’t give a damn how anypony else might feel about it, even if there’s not really anypony around to even complain to begin with. It looks like its previous owner wrote down some journal entries before abandoning it. The first entry reads;
“I don’t know how we got here, but it seems we’re in some sort of school. I have this really vague memory of being in an elevator, but we’ve looked everywhere and couldn’t find one. Found this notebook in one of the classrooms and ripped out the first few pages with math work scribbled down. School’s been long out of session, so this sucker is mine now.
Pearly says we came here with some other ponies, but we haven’t run into anypony else so far and we’ve been wandering around for a while. I don’t know what will become of us here, so I guess I’ll write down our names and whatnot for posterity’s sake. My name is Orchid Snow. I’m a 21-year-old unicorn mare. With me are my friends Pearly Petals (23/mare/earth pony), Storm Chaser (28/stallion/pegasus) and Cinnamon Swirls (20/mare/unicorn). This place is old and feels as unsafe as it looks. I hope we can go home soon.”
There’s that elevator being mentioned again. In fact, this first entry alone corroborates what Sunshine told me; Several ponies all at once being sent to their deaths via an elevator. This school is a lot more sinister than I initially assumed. Perhaps I was sent here to my death as well. I can’t think of a more plausible reason at the moment. I flip to the next page and read the second entry;
“What the fuck is this place?? We’ve been here for Celestia knows how long and we’ve seen corpses all over the place! Why are we even here?? Are we going to end up like all these poor, unfortunate ponies?? I haven’t been able to fulfill my dreams of becoming a world famous artist yet! I haven’t even lost my virginity either! I can’t die yet! I won’t! I won’t! I won’t!
Pearly and Storm promised we’d make it out of here alive. Poor Cinnamon is terrified and has accidentally pissed on herself twice. She reeks of vomit, too. She doesn’t handle death and gore well, but I can’t say that I blame her. It really is gross as hell. Where’s a janitor when you need one?”
I can’t help but chuckle at the beginning of this entry. What high priorities this Orchid Snow had. I flip through the next five entries, which are all various complaints about the state of the school and the horrible, disgusting stuff they’ve seen. I’m not sure how far apart these have been written or how long Orchid had left behind her notebook. I flip to the eighth entry and find things had taken a tragic turn for this mare and her friends;
“Cinnamon is dead. Cinnamon is dead. Cinnamon is FUCKING DEAD!!!! We got to the fourth floor and some fucking bitchass monster came out of a locker and just swallowed her up! We tried to save her but that THING was too strong! We could hear Cinny screaming in pain and begging for us to help her as that thing chewed her up! Me, Pearly and Storm got the hell out of there ASAP. Went back down the third floor. I puked as soon as we got there. Pearly started wailing and screaming. Had a complete breakdown. All I could do was puke until nothing was left in my stomach. Storm tried to comfort us both, but I made him take care of Pearly. Sure, Cinny was our best friend and we loved her dearly, but she was the only family Pearly had left. Now her sister is gone and poor Pearly wishes she was dead instead of Cinny. I wish it was me instead of her too, Pearly.”
I can’t help but feel a tad bit offended on Sunshine’s behalf at the way Orchid refers to her, but I do understand her anger and sympathize with the now-trio. It’s not like they were going to stick around and demand an apology from Sunshine, nor ask her to explain herself and her actions, but I knew the truth. Sunshine likely didn’t mean to eat Cinnamon, but I guess it doesn’t really matter now, does it? She’s dead and regardless of knowing whether or not Sunshine meant to do it isn’t going to bring anypony back from the dead. I highly doubt knowing that would have even brought them closure.
The next four entries detail Orchid and her remaining friends trying to escape and cope with the loss of Cinnamon. It quickly becomes apparent that with her gone, tensions grew between them and put a strain on their relationships as the hours passed by during their wandering. From what Orchid wrote, it seems that Pearly couldn’t quite handle the pain of losing her sister and was lashing out at Orchid and Storm rather harshly. Arguments broke out and a lot of harsh words were said between them, particularly from Pearly. I turn the page once more and read the thirteenth entry in Orchid’s notebook;
“Pearly is dead now. Good riddance. Storm and I just watched as Pearly lost her mind, screaming and crying and throwing a major fit until she started to slam her head against the wall. There was a piece of wood sticking out from the paneling and it didn’t take her long to find it. Storm and I just watched as Pearly bashed her head on it and we did nothing to stop her. I didn’t think I’d ever get to hear what an eyeball sounds like when it’s being stabbed to a pulp, not that I wanted to, but the squelching of her eye keeps echoing in my head. I’m glad Pearly is gone. I know she was upset about losing Cinnamon, but she wasn’t the only one. We were upset too, but weren’t being abusive to her. It wasn’t our fault. Stupid bitch.
To make things even better for us, Storm and I got to talking while Pearly laid on the ground bleeding out to death. We talked for a while and it turns out Storm didn’t want to die a virgin either, so we fixed that for ourselves. I don’t think Pearly was quite dead yet, but I couldn’t really tell for sure. I hope she was, though, and watched us fuck as she took her dying breath. She did say she always had a crush on Storm Chaser.”
Wow. That’s… just wow. I’m completely at a loss for words right now. This school seems likely to drain one’s sanity very quickly. I should be a lot more careful unless I want to end up like Orchid and her friends. It seems things went south very quickly for them. I don’t want the same to happen to me. The next few entries are filled with nonsense that gets worse and less comprehensible with every page that I turn. That is, at least, until I turn to a page that has dried bloody hoofprints all over it. Some of the words are covered with blood, making them illegible, but for the most part I’m able to read the majority of it;
“Pearly and Storm lied. There’s … escape. Just death. That’s the o… .a. out. Now it’s my turn. I d… .e’ll find me, but if he somehow does, all Storm will f… … a corpse. I didn’t see that hole a… …l right …o... .t. Down two floors, I think. Blood is every…re but it h….. …ts. I think I …… on a ….en desk. I have a few ex… holes no. … a br… ..w piercing.”
The final entry is a bit short, but seems to capture Orchid’s final moments;
“Dead soon. So cold. I was so awful. Sorry, Pearly. Sorry, Cinny. Sorry, Storm. So dark now and more cold. Cold, cold, cold, cold, cold. Blood everywhere. Drew pictures with it. Bye, Storm. Get out of here. Love, Orchid.”
I can’t say if this Storm Chaser ever found Orchid, but it seems she bled to death all alone and likely with a lot of regret. So long as I’m fairly careful, it’s a fate I can avoid for myself. It seems like a thin line to tread, though. If I’m overly scrupulous or far too lax, I could very easily find myself meeting a similar demise. I sigh as I flip through the remaining pages of the notebook. The rest of it is empty and mostly untouched, save for a bit of blood that has stained a few pages and curled their edges. I might as well take this with me. The empty pages might come in handy later… or they might not. Either way, I open my saddlebag and quickly tuck the notebook away. After closing the bag, I stand up and resume my journey to leave this school.
I make my way to the end of the hallway and continue forward until I have no choice but to turn right. The walls are decorated with rotted, once-colorful streamers, stars, hearts and paper chains. A banner to my left simply reads ‘Spirit Week!’ in big red letters against a bright yellow background. It must be spirit week every week in this awful place. Below the spirit week banner is a second banner with what I assume to be the school’s logo and the phrase ‘Better Together!’. The logo depicts a large, light blue manta ray jumping through a circle in a darker shade stylized to look like waves. ‘Better’ is written to the right of the logo while ‘Together!’ is to the left. Both are in a thick, white font against a black background.
As I meander down the hall, I pass by a large window off to my right and pause. How many have I passed by since leaving the infirmary? Several, I imagine, yet not once have I given them a second thought… or really, any thought at all. I get closer to the window and notice the glass is scratched and covered in hairline cracks. Droplets gather and run down the outside of the window and it’s not until now that I realize that it’s been raining heavily this entire time. I guess I’ve been too busy overthinking and pouring over details to hone in on that.
Light flashes in the sky and briefly illuminates what looks to be a thick forest. A clap of thunder rolls through and interrupts the lingering silence inside the school. Listening to the pitter patter of rain against the glass was soothing. Almost enough to forget my troubles altogether, but not quite. Lightning flashes and thunder rolls through the sky once more. I wonder how long this storm will last for? As I continue to stare, a thought of sudden realization crosses my mind. Why waste my time searching for an elevator when I could escape out the window?
I prop myself up against the window and get halfway through the motions of trying to open it when another realization strikes me. I’d be wasting more of my time trying to open this window than I would trying to find that elevator. The vast majority of the doors I passed by wouldn’t open in spite of all efforts made, so what made me think this window- or any window, for that matter- would magically open for me? Why did I believe that escaping would be so simple and straightforward when everything thus far has been everything but that?
I rest my forehead against the cold glass and sigh, my warm breath forming a foggy cloud on the pane. If only I could remember the exact chain of events that led me to this moment. If only I knew why I was even here in this school to begin with. Then, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. I would know if I truly deserved to be here or if I’m just one more innocent pony caught up in something so much bigger than myself. I’m not sure if I should count myself as being extremely lucky or terribly unlucky. On one hoof, I’ve somehow managed to survive whatever knocked me out and caused me to lose my memories, I’ve survived an infirmary demon and avoided being eaten by Sunshine. Who knows what I had been through prior to waking up in the infirmary? Since coming to Sandalwood Coast Academy?
It seems I’ve been to hell and back again and have thus far survived. Sure, that was lucky, but what about overall? The circumstances that led me to being here? Likely losing the pony- or ponies- that I came here with? What’ll end up happening in the very end? I sigh. There I go again getting lost in thought and overanalyzing everything. I can worry about this later, preferably when I escape. Spacing out like this is going to get me- SMACK! The corpse of a pegasus stallion smacks loudly against the window so unexpectedly that it startles me greatly.
“GAH !!” I scream in fear before stumbling backwards and falling hard onto my back.
I only had a moment to look at him, but from what I briefly saw, it looked as if he had been carved up, had his hooves tied up, his feathers plucked out and wings mutilated before being thrown off either the roof or one of the floors above. Fear had been permanently branded to his face. I quickly rise to my hooves and squeeze my eyes closed. I take in a deep breath and slowly release it in an effort to calm myself. If I hadn’t wasted time overthinking, I’m sure this wouldn’t have happened. I open my eyes and slowly look over at the window.
I do a double take as my face contorts with confusion. Where there had been a stallion hanging moments ago, the corpse of a bloodied, broken raven is now in its place. There’s no way I could ever confuse the body of an adult pony with that of a body of a bird! Is this school playing tricks on me, trying to make me feel like I’ve lost my mind? Or was it my mind playing pulling one over on me? I… I should get going before anything else happens. What kind of a fool am I to think I could have a moment of peace and reflection without something happening? Whatever. I sigh again before shaking my head and continuing down the hall.
I reach the end and take a left before continuing onward. I quietly hum a random yet cheerful tune to break the awful silence and in an effort to keep my spirits up. I pause and roll my eyes when this hall comes to an end and I have no choice but to go right. Seriously, how long is this hallway? I huff in annoyance before pressing onwards. I can’t help but notice the hall looks the same as the first right I took, except for the bloody smears and hoofprints all over the place. There’s even a big window on the right in the same condition as the first, but there’s not a dead raven stuck to the outside. Instead, there’s just a small splatter of blood in roughly the same area.
I abandon my cheerful humming and make my way down the hall at a slightly quicker pace. I go left and all the way down again before making a third right. By all accounts, the hall was exactly the same and the only differences to be seen are more blood added to the walls. There are now lumps of what I can only assume to be bloody flesh plopped in random spots on the floor. What the fuck? Is this hall just repeating itself and getting worse each time? I guess there’s really one way to know for sure. I steel myself and canter down to the end of the hall, hang a left, go all the way down and hang another right. Sure enough, the hall is simply repeating itself and getting worse with each loop.
More blood and gore is all over the walls and floor. As I canter down the hall, I notice the words on both banners have changed. Instead of displaying ‘Spirit Week!’, the top banner now says ‘You’ll Never Leave!’ while the bottom banner now reads ‘Here Forever!’. Truly, a reassuring message that- so far- seems to be true. Maybe if I try going backwards I’ll be able to escape this loop? I immediately turn around and attempt to back the way I came, only to find the hall I had just came from is now gone. In its place is a wall, a dead end, leaving me with no choice but to continue forward. Of course it couldn’t- for once- be just that damn simple. Now more annoyed than worried or scared, I reluctantly resume the same song and dance of going left, straight and right again.
Every loop adds more blood and gore. Each loop changes what the banners say. The more recent loops now have rude messages- such as ‘Fuck you’, ‘Loser’ and ‘Liar, Liar, pants on fire!’- scribbled on the walls in what looks to be black crayon. Each loop just pisses me off more and more. I’ve already wasted so much of my own time by just simply thinking, now this damn school was determined to waste even more of it. On the eighth loop, blood starts seeping and pouring through certain spots in the ceiling and forces me to slow down a bit in order to carefully weave past them. I make two more loops and find myself surprised. Not that the looping has ended, but instead that hall is back to the state it was in when the loop first began.
I glance back and see that the dead end is still behind me, which means- surprise, surprise- I can only go forward. As I make my way down the hall for what feels like the millionth time, I start hearing voices whisper and giggle. Whatever they’re saying is incomprehensible but the giggling is clear as day. The whispers and giggles persist and gradually grow louder as I make another loop, then another, and another, and another and another. On the next loop, I stop dead in my tracks and grind my teeth together. I’m thoroughly pissed off and sick and tired of being a toy to this damn school.
“STOP!! STOP IT ALREADY!!” I scream over the whispers and giggles.
Silence. Dead Silence.
“Enough of this already! Stop wasting my goddamn time!” I yell angrily.
More silence.
“I’m serious! Stop this nonsense before I beat you to a pulp!” I continue my berating.
The giggling and whispering continues once more, even louder than before.
“Stop it! Stop, stop, STOP!!” I scream.
I growl loudly and stomp all the way down the hall, looking around angrily as I do. I go to make my usual left turn and- thanks to my lack of attention- instead run right smack into a wall. I back up and look around to see that this end of the hall is now a dead end as well. A piece of paper is tacked to the wall with the words ‘Turn back’ and a smiley face scribbled on it. I yank the piece of paper off the wall and crumple it up in anger and frustration. I throw it to the ground and begrudgingly follow its advice. I go back to the other end only to find the exact same note tacked to this wall. I look back and see that the hall has gotten noticeably shorter.
When I look forward again and see the message on the note has now changed. ‘Three more times’ is written in red. Is it telling me to walk from one end to the other three more times? What will happen when I do? Will it set me free or… or will something bad happen? I sigh sharply. I don’t have any choice in the matter. As it stands, I’m stuck in that damn hallway with no way out. What’s the worst that can happen? I turn around and stomp to the other end. A new note has appeared on the wall that simply reads ‘Two more times’ as if it was counting down. Although I’m still pissed off, I can’t help but to start feeling nervous as I turn around and see the hall has gotten drastically shorter.
I try to swallow away my fear as I more slowly make my way down to the other end. Once there, I see the note has changed again to say ‘Once more’. Without having to look, I just know the hallway has gotten shorter. Sure enough, when I turn around, my suspicions are confirmed. The hallway has indeed gotten even shorter. I make the short trip to the other end and read the changes to the note. ‘Turn around’ and a smiley face is scribbled on the paper. I turn around to find the other hand roughly a couple of yards away. Fear quickly gathers in my chest and stomach when I read the note posted to the other wall. There’s only one word written in what is likely blood and it sends chills down my spine. ‘Goodbye’, it says.
The entire hall begins to rumble and gradually grows louder before the walls start to slowly move inward. Panic starts to form in my stomach as I back away from the wall I’m closest to. I prance about in panicky circles as I try to avoid the walls that are slowly closing in on me. What should I do? What do I do ?? No, no, no, no, no, no, no !! Fuck! This isn’t good! This isn’t good !! Either wall is now less than a foot from where I stand. I quickly look back and forth between the walls as I back into the wall behind me and make a truly pathetic attempt to shrink into it, like I’m hoping it’ll save me from being crushed to death.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” I shout as I find myself on the verge of bursting into sobs.
The walls ignore my apology and continue to close in on me.
“Please! Spare me! I truly am sorry! PLEASE!! ” I plead desperately.
I start sobbing as I continue to be ignored and the walls keep moving. I fall over and curl into as tight a ball as I physically can. I sob even more as I hear the walls continuing their slow forward march. I wait for the end to come. I wait to feel the walls slowly squish me until I pop. I wait and wait, and wait, and wait some more, yet... nothing happens. I don’t know how long I lay on the ground sobbing and waiting, but when I open my eyes and look around, the walls have returned entirely to normal. I take in a few shaky breaths and wipe away my tears before standing up. I sniffle and wipe my eyes with the neck of my sweater. How pathetic. How low I’ve fallen to be reduced to panic and fear. A perfectly natural response all things considered, but still, I feel ashamed to have openly cried like that. I get the distinct feeling that showing such emotions is very out-of-character for me.
I hear knocking coming from behind and quickly turn around. Where the was once a window, a door is now in its place. As I stare at the door and ponder everything I had just experienced, a female sounding voice giggles and whispers something in my ear.
“Wow, so shiny! What do you think it's for?” The voice whispers.
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[Chapter 3] Something Ventured, A New Friend Gained
I immediately look around to find the voice but instead see it's only myself left in the hall. Huh? What’s so shiny? I lightly shake my head as I step forward and try to open the door. The handle jiggles and the door slightly budges, but unsurprisingly doesn’t open. Shiny? Hmm… Oh, did it maybe mean the key Sunshine gave me? I guess it's a little shiny. I immediately fish it out of my bag and rather eagerly try it on the door. Much to my amazement, the lock turns and I’m successfully able to open the door. How impressive, a door that actually works as intended! After pushing the door open, I take back the key and look around the room.
Twelve long desks evenly line either side of the room against the walls, allowing a little space to walk up and down the middle. Neatly lined up behind every desk are chairs and lined up on each desk are more old fashioned computers. From where I stand, it seems as though the majority of the computers are damaged beyond repair, never to turn on and reveal their secrets ever again. At the front of the room is a smaller desk with a computer on it and various items- like folders, picture frames and school-themed decor- that make it obvious this is the teacher's desk. On the front wall currently off to my right is a long, green chalkboard. Various computer terminologies and assignments are scrawled onto the majority of the board in white chalk.
A black cord dangles from a thin, whitish-yellow bar in the ceiling about a foot from the board and I assume it to be the screen for the old school projector sitting in a small, black rolling cart in the middle of the front of the room. The room is a bit small and the chairs are just as tiny, just the right size for young foals to sit and learn how to use a computer. It seems this school was built for all ages, then. Frankly, this whole time I had assumed it to be a college or a private school of some kind for much older children or adults. As soon as I cross the threshold and enter the computer lab, my nose is hit with the smell of rotting meat. I gag a little as the odor assaults my sense of smell. It was honestly worse than the smell of heavy ammonia found in the colt's bathroom.
This school was filled with horrible smells and I'm honestly surprised I haven't gotten used to it yet. I pull the neck of my sweater over my nose to filter the smell as I look around some more. Unless I'm just overthinking things again, there has to be a reason this door has appeared for me. Maybe in some twisted, messed up way, the spirits in this school were leading me here for one reason or another. Whether that was to help or to harm, I couldn't say for sure yet. With the room being so small, it doesn't take me long to explore it in its entirety. Out of all the computers in the room, there are only seven intact and powered on. Six amongst the rows of desks and then the teacher's computer at the front. All of them are password protected, but further inspection of the teacher's desk reveals a hastily written note that the author didn't get to finish;
"Some mare I met told me the teacher’s computer is the key to escaping! Says it will tell you how to escape! Find the password and get it right! It’s in the room! They'll kill you if you get it wrong! I got it wrong too many times apparently and I hear t__________"
The note trails off in a inky smear down the torn page. I assume the author is the corpse of a half decomposed mare hunched over in the corner behind the teacher's desk. Much of her skeleton is exposed and what remains of her pale green, shriveled skin is hanging from her skeletal frame. What little bit of her mane there is left is thin but matted. I can see her rotting organs hiding behind- and just barely contained by- her fractured rib cage. Her cause of death isn’t immediately apparent, but by simply judging her current state, I’m sure she suffered greatly. The sight of her alone makes me want to puke, though. Combine that with how she smells, and I might actually do it. I push the neck of my sweater closer against my nose to further block out the nasty vapors.
I’m not entirely sure if I should trust the note or the promise this poor mare was given, but all in honesty, it’s the only lead I’ve got. I doubt I’ll be lucky enough to find the exact way out on this computer, but any hint- no matter how vague or cryptic- is better than just simply wandering around until I find something. It seems the password is somewhere in this room and if I had to bet, I’d put all my money on the only other working computers. I press the spacebar on the keyboard and awake the computer, where it brings up the login screen. The username reads ‘It’s my birthday!’. Below the password box is a hyperlink that simply says ‘Password hint’ and clicking on it reveals nothing of actual help or value. Instead, the hint tells me ‘Tough luck, fucktard. Figure it out yourself’ and I can’t help but to roll my eyes.
It’s not like I thought for one second that I might find something of actual help or even value, but it would be nice to catch a break for once. I did just believe I was about to be slowly squished to death. The least these spirits could do is cut me a teeny, tiny little bit of slack. Well, no sense in dawdling when there’s a password to find. Considering the state of the corpse, I suppose I’ll trust the validity of this note and look around the room again for the password. I’m sure it’ll have something to do with the usernames. It really seems like whatever made the school the way it is tried its best to make escape difficult, but hiding the password amongst the usernames isn’t exactly a difficult puzzle to solve. Tedious, sure, to get the full picture and even more so to figure out the correct order, but hard? Not so likely. Then again, I could be terribly and horrifically wrong.
I shouldn’t be thinking like that, though. I don’t mean to get all weird, sappy and cliche, but I need to cling onto the hope I have of escaping this hellhole. On the bright side, at least I can say I went down fighting until the bitter end. Er, well, sort of. I make my way over to the first long desk on my current right and find the working computer sitting all the way down at the end. I press the spacebar and take a look at the displayed username: ‘A three-tiered strawberry cake!’. I make a mental note and exit the row before moving down the aisle to the next working computer. It sits on the second desk to my current left just slightly past the middle. I repeat the process of waking the computer and reading the username: ‘A flower for each season- and’. Another mental note metaphorically jotted down before I move onto computer number three- or four, if you count the teacher’s computer.
The next computer is straight across and sitting on the very end. Repeating the same song and dance, I learn the next piece of this ridiculous puzzle: ‘But only two amaryllises’. I’ve come to the conclusion that the usernames are telling a story and I’m going to go ahead and assume that I’ve got to piece the story together in the correct sequence in order to figure out the password. I suppose in a way it’s clever, but it also seems a bit… cliche, like something you’d find a modern day video game. I turn around and skip the third row of desks entirely, as either side has no working computers. The next computer is on the right long desk and sitting directly in the middle. I wake the ancient box of zeroes, ones and pixels and memorize its username: ‘Tulips, Four pansies’.
My next target is the computer on the fifth elongated desk on my current left, which sits second to the last in the row. I press the spacebar harder than intended and with enough force to scoot the entire keyboard slightly closer to the monitor. Oops. Without giving it much thought, I slide the keyboard back towards its original place as I read the username: ‘Seven Forget-Me-Nots, Nine’. The last computer sits just before the middle on the very last elongated desk on the same side of the room as the one I was just at. The very last piece of the puzzle reads: ‘My mom bought a bouquet made of’. I think for a moment and piece all the usernames together. The fictional bouquet is made up of flowers from each of the four seasons, so the usernames with flowers must go in seasonal order. I’m not an expert on flowers- at least, I don’t remember if I am- but I think I know what the order may be.
I’m fairly certain forget-me-nots are springtime flowers and I know amaryllises are usually seen in the winter time, typically for Hearth’s Warming Eve. A very brief memory comes to my mind of myself in an office of some kind and receiving a vase full of the red bulb flowers presumably from a coworker. A somewhat helpful memory, I suppose. I guess I either once worked in an office of some variety or currently do. Anyways, back to this damn password. I feel like I’m wrong, but I’m going to put pansies in the fall slot and leave the tulips for the summer. With the flowers in- hopefully- the correct order, I’m almost entirely positive that the brief story holding the true hint for the password goes as follows;
“It’s my birthday! My mom bought a bouquet made of seven forget-me-nots, nine tulips, four pansies but only two amaryllises. A flower for each season- and a three-tiered strawberry cake!”
I return to the teacher’s computer and adjust the keyboard so I can lean against the end of the desk and put some distance between me and the corpse. No offense to the dead mare, of course. I probably already smell, but there’s no need to get even smellier. Alright, focus. Getting the password wrong too many times will apparently seal my demise, as evident by the corpse and the note it left behind. How many tries do I have before I strike out? I’m going to assume it’s the usual ‘three misses and you’re out’ kind of scenario that is standard practice for chances given across the country. Here goes attempt number one. I type ‘794243’ into the box, hoping the number of each flower, the number of seasons and the number of cake tiers together make the right combination.
Much to my dismay, I’m instead met with an error message that says: ‘wrong password, try again’. A horrible screeching fills the rooms, like nails on a chalkboard. I instinctively cover my ears as I look for the source of the offending noise. On the board nearby, a piece of chalk held by some unseen force slowly draws a big ‘x’ before shattering into pieces. Ugh, is it going to do that every time I get it wrong? Let’s try this again. I believe I had it mostly correct, but I think I need to read into the story a little harder. ‘A flower for each season’ . Maybe the number of flowers, seasons and how many types of flowers are given plus the number of tiers for the cake?
I try ‘7942443’ and the room is again filled with more awful screeching as another piece of chalk draws a big ‘x’ before also shattering. Dammit. I was confident that was the correct password. What am I missing? Were the bits about the birthday and the mother buying a bouquet actually a part of the password? The username for the teacher’s computer and the very last computer imply there is one recipient of the cake and bouquet and one mother. I won’t lie, I’m seriously feeling the pressure to get it right this time. My heart is pounding a bit faster and I notice I’m starting to sweat a little as well. I hold my breath as I type ‘117942443’ into the password box and then close my eyes as I hit the enter button. I brace myself for the sound of chalk scratching horribly across the board, but much to my relief, I instead hear the computer sing a brief tune. I peek an eye open and see I've successfully logged into the computer. How unnecessarily dreadful that was.
I reach out and turn the monitor a bit to see the screen better. I check the computer for anything of use or value. There are no files saved except for the ones belonging to the then-standard, bare bones basics applications like the art tool program and the notepad. Out of curiosity, I open the art program first and look through the saved art files. I genuinely don't know what I expected to see and I guess I really shouldn't be shocked, all things considered , but every piece 'art'- if I could even call it that- depicted various gorey scenes. Decapitations, burning to ashes, cut into chunks, chopped up into bits and intestines removed then strung out like banners. All of them crudely drawn in a classroom setting, almost like a child drew them. I'm not sure if they're purely fictional victims or if they're really the records of the demise of a few misplaced, innocent souls. Pretty brutal no matter which way you slice it.
I exit the art program and try opening the internet for shits and giggles. As expected, it's unable to connect and an error message tells me to check my connection. There is nothing else of value or interest aside from the virtual notepad I have yet to open. There are several, several files saved. Most are jumbled nonsense or the ravings of ponies gone mad, others are different ponies essentially saying the same thing and half of those in drastically different time frames according to the time stamps on the files. The latter entries recount their tales of arriving here with no memory on how aside from the vague remembrance of an elevator. Although I'm unsure of the current month, day or year, some of these entries are clearly old. I want to say maybe ten or so years, possibly more.
The last four entries seem very recent, maybe a couple weeks. My gut says maybe a month at most. The author of the first of the last four mourns the loss of their lover and how desperate they are for something to drink, as they believed they were dying of dehydration, possibly even starvation. Unfortunately, the thirst was stronger than the hunger according to the writer, so if they truly were starving to death, they were certain the thirst would do them in first. The second entry is of a similar nature, but instead they were filled with regret for winning a game of rock, paper, scissors they played with their lover which resulted in the loser lovebird giving up their life so the winner would not starve to death or die of thirst. Although they regretted winning, they wrote they were grateful for the sacrifice and wouldn't let it go in vain before going into a disturbing amount of detail of just how delicious their lover was.
The third entry was the final moments of an injured griffin who fell victim to one of the school's ‘many traps’ and was bleeding out badly. Their final wish was for their lover to find the way out and escape, as well as for the lover to always remember them and never let that memory fade, as that would keep them alive in spirit. The entry doesn't go into detail about how the injury occured, but simply wrote that they were sliced to ribbons by some kind of wire. I can only imagine how it happened and how painful it had been to slowly bleed out until they faded from existence. The final entry is the most recent and the one that peaks my curiosity the most. It's one of the longer entries in the notepad and its contents stick out like a sore thumb.
It goes into a very small amount of detail about ‘data collection’ on something they refer as the 'dimensional space' belonging to something they call 'Principal DESTiny', or simply ‘Dest’ for short. According to this, ‘Dest’ is some sort of dangerous monster that is responsible for the creation of this school. The note is a bit vague but seems to imply this school isn't even a real school after all and is simply instead an isolated plain of existence in a void of nothing shaped to whatever this Dest desires. It mentions something about ‘anchoring the space’ and essentially tethering it to Equestria's dimension for easier access for ‘research purposes’. That's as far as it goes in terms of information about the school, although it’s honestly far more than what I expected to read- even if the details weren't an in-depth explanation. I must confess, I don't entirely understand what any of it means, but the better I can understand this place, the higher my chances of survival will be- or so I hope, anyways.
The rest of this last entry goes on to say that they've come here of their own volition and are fully aware of the potentially deadly consequences, which the author says they are prepared for. They also intend on leaving field notes in 'valued' areas of the dimensional space for their coworkers to find should things go 'horribly awry' and they've met their demise. That way, apparently, the author won't be considered as having gone 'AWOL'. The reason they gave was a bit bold, honestly impressive and- oddly enough- sweet. They've plunged themselves into this hell willingly in hopes of gaining a promotion in order to get closer to and spend more time with a supervisor they greatly admire. Like everything else written, this too is vague, but I feel it’s slightly implied that the author might have more romantic feelings for their supervisor than mere platonic admiration.
Unlike the vast majority of the entries left behind on this ancient computer, the author of this last note didn’t record their name. Instead, the entry is simply signed with ‘SBB, PhD’ at the very bottom. I believe they signed it that way with the assumption their colleagues would recognize the initials, should said colleagues ever come looking for them. While I suppose I did get some answers from all of this, the number of questions I’ve gained far outweigh them. If they've come here willingly, then that means they've got something to do with ‘anchoring’ this dimension to Equestria's, right? What kind of work are they doing exactly? Why would any business or organization be interested in researching such a horrible place? Better yet, why research such a terrible monster if this is what it’s capable of?
PhD. Why would a doctor need to conduct any sort of research here? Perhaps a more accurate question would be what kind of doctor conducts research in a fucked up place like this? It goes without saying that escaping this place isn’t going to be easy or straightforward. Although I loathe the idea of wasting my time by sniffing around chasing ghosts- in both the literal and metaphorical sense- it seems hunting down these field notes might be worth the trouble. Assuming this doctor is still alive, I might possibly attempt to track them down as well. Mostly a fool’s errand in the long run, I’m sure, but unless I can say with a hundred percent certainty that they’re dead, I might as well hold onto a little bit of hope that I’ll find them.
Well, I should get going now. There’s no way in hell I’m getting into these other computers and I’ve seen all there is to find on the teacher’s computer, so there’s no need to stick around here any longer. I feel like the protagonist in some sort of survival-horror adventure book on a deadly quest. Before I move on, I should probably go over my priorities and rework their order of importance. I glance over at the corpse sitting in the corner. Here’s a priority high on my list: reprioritize in a different location. I grunt a bit as I push up and off the desk before quickly trotting out into the hallway. I move the neck of my sweater down and off my nose before sitting outside by the doorway.
I’m not a big fan of just sitting around all vulnerable-like, but getting my priorities figured out and straightened will help keep my mind leveled and focused. Hopefully. It should go without saying, but my first priority is- obviously- escaping from this school. Whether that happens via this elevator that keeps popping up, a secret set of stairs, some sort of magical portal or some other ridiculous method of escape, I’ll do whatever it takes to get out. I will do anything to ensure my survival and escape. Anything . Even if it means losing an eye, a limb or going bald. I really don’t care. I can live without one of those, my hair or whatever it is I may or may not lose. I just want to go home… wherever that may be.
Escape isn’t going to be easy nor will it be immediate, so while I make my attempts to leave, my second priority is going to be finding the ghostly mare that brought me to the infirmary. She might know what happened to me and how I wound up in this position. Even if she doesn’t and just simply found me, the mare might hopefully know where I was found. I’m not sure what I’ll do if I learn the location. Should I avoid it like the plague or risk my life a second time by poking around for clues? I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.
Sunshine said she seemed protective over me. Another good reason to find her. Perhaps I can get a free bodyguard that way or better yet, perhaps there’s a chance she might know me. Unless it’s just a case of mistaken identity and I just look like somepony she once knew while alive, I can’t think of any other reason for her being protective over me other than she really does know me. Maybe we came here together or perhaps we used to be friends. I suppose I’ll find out when I find her. It will happen. I want- no, need - to know who I am. She might be the only clue I have to figure it out. I refuse to live the rest of my life always wondering who I am or used to be, what my life was like. If I have friends, family, a job, a lover, a spouse, any children or none of the above. Who they may be, where they are or how to find them assuming I do.
I sigh as I gently tap my forehead as a reminder to stay focused. I hate wasting time yet here I am doing just that. Back to the subject at hoof, my third priority is finding the mare that appeared in that brief flashback I had earlier. I might not have remembered her face, voice or cutiemark clearly, but it would be hard to miss her with her watermelon coat and ruddy mane. It’s obvious she means a great deal to me. After all, I did refer to her as ‘my treasure’ in that memory I recalled… and the way we held each other as we hid? I feel inclined to believe she’s likely my marefriend or perhaps some form of ‘friends with benefits’, though I lean more towards the former.
Finding her will likely be much harder than finding the mare who saved me. As a ghost, that mare would likely be able to freely traverse the school to some extent. For living ponies like me and the mare in my flashback, it seems we can’t go ten minutes without being disturbed, assaulted or threatened in some way, which makes exploring difficult. It honestly feels… weird to call her my marefriend, but it's very important that I find her. If not for the sake of her being able to help me regain my memories, then definitely because I… I… I think I love her. Thinking that honestly feels even weirder than calling her my marefriend and I honestly have no clue why.
Those three things are what I need to focus the most on, but while I’m trying to accomplish them, I’m going to keep a keen eye out for any notes left behind by that ‘Dr. SBB’. Hopefully they’ll contain useful and relevant information. Until I can prove with a hundred percent certainty that the doctor is dead, I’ll keep an eye out for them as well. If their notes prove to be absolute useless garbage, then what better way to get the info I need than straight from the source? I won’t let my hopes get too high on that part, but for now I won’t give up entirely. Alright, that’s too much time wasted. I need to keep going. I need to get out of here.
THUMP! A muffled groan of pain escapes my throat as I just lay there and process what’s just happened to me. I slowly lift my head up and then rest my chin on the cold tile floor. I blow stray strands of hair out of my face before slowly pushing myself up with my front legs and stand with both back legs off the floor. A large pile of junk and debris created a barricade in the middle of the hall, making getting to the other side difficult and possibly dangerous, but not entirely impossible. A barricade I thought I could climb over and jump down from with ease, but apparently I’m not as nimble or perfectly balanced as I had assumed myself to be. My brief journey up trash mountain had been slightly wobbly but otherwise successful without incident. The journey down, however, did not go quite so smoothly.
As if I didn’t have enough bruises to begin with, I lost footing about halfway down when attempting my jump and instead went tumbling to the floor. I landed right on my face and I’m surprised my nose isn’t bleeding. Perhaps on a more humorous side, my right pant leg has gotten snagged on a piece of broken wood that is temporarily keeping me hostage. If it didn’t hurt as bad as it did, I would probably laugh at my current situation. I back up as far as I can before carefully reaching and freeing my pants from the wood. With my leg free, I stumble forward and fall over again with a loud groan.
A sharp pain assaults my right side and disappears as I stand up. As I rub my side to nurse the pain away, my hoof rubs over something pointy but not terribly sharp. I look down and momentarily panic. By all accounts, it really does look like I’ve been stabbed by a shard of glass. The panic quickly fades when I realize there’s no blood and I have- in fact- not been stabbed nor is the object a piece of glass but instead is a piece of plastic. Upon further inspection, a hole has been torn in a pocket I didn’t know I had and its contents are trying to escape. I sit down and empty its contents onto the floor. I pull out a half empty pack of ‘Mareburrow’ cigarettes, a book of matches with only twenty left inside and a black-and-gold ballpoint pen that’s slightly bent in the middle
I stare at the piece of plastic still poking out the hole and try to picture what it could be. I reach into my pocket and slowly wiggle it out of the hole before pulling it out. It’s a wallet-sized picture inside a plastic frame attached to a blue carabiner by a small ball chain. An oddly familiar logo is printed atop a gray background. It depicts a green flame beneath the letters ‘P’ and ‘T’ printed in a dark teal, thick capitalized font. Overlapping the flame is a semi-transparent black circle that has two symmetrical curves in the inside, both of which are also black and just barely hug the ‘PT’. I can’t remember for the life of me where or when I’ve seen this logo, but once all my memories have returned I have no doubt that I’ll solve that mystery.
I flip it over and gently caress the plastic case. The other side is a picture of myself wearing the same outfit as I am now but with what looks like an ID badge on a lanyard clipped to my sweater. Unfortunately, it’s turned around backwards and shows nothing but a blank, white rectangle. In the photo I’m smirking and have my right leg wrapped around the shoulders of the mare from my flashback. I can now see her face and her spearmint colored eyes. Either cheek is adorned with heart shaped freckles that are a lighter, paler shade of yellow than my own skin. I’m holding her close in the photo with my head pressed against her own. I look rather smug in this photograph while she appears shy but happy.
Judging from the background, we appear to be in an office of some sort. The mare looks less like an office worker and more of a visitor, so I’m going to assume it’s likely the office is mine. There’s a picture frame on the desk in the background, but it’s too out of focus for me to see its contents. I wish the photo would trigger another flashback, but I guess it’s just my luck that a second one wouldn’t happen, at least not so soon. Too bad I don’t have a watch on me so I can keep track of time, but I’d say it’s probably been a solid five-to-ten minutes or so since I left the computer lab. Then again, I have the feeling that even if I did have a watch, it probably wouldn’t work in this hellhole anyways. We obviously can’t have nice things here. I guess that ‘Principal Dest’ is to blame.
I shove the picture and pen back into my pocket. I didn’t think I was a smoker, but they’ve been in my pocket and I might as well smoke a couple while I’m still able to. I take a single cigarette out of the box, put it between my lips and light it with one of the matches. I shake the match until the flame dissipates and then toss it to the side. I take a nice, long drag from the cigarette, hold it in for a bit and then slowly exhale it. I shove the match book and cigarettes back into my pocket before walking through the cloud of smoke and continuing on down the hall. My nerves already feel soothed and happier. Hopefully I can make the pack last until I get out of here because I already know this damn school will have them shot to hell and back three-fold by the time escape happens.
As I approach the junction where the hall splits off to the right and continues forward, I hear what almost sounds like somepony screaming. I pause and listen more closely. A few seconds go by before I hear it again. It really sounds like somepony is calling out for help, but I’m not sure if it’s an actual pony or just a tactic by this cursed place to get me to come closer so it can murder me. Another pause and a couple seconds later, it sounds like it might be a child. Whoever it is is clearly in some sort of trouble. I’m not equipped with a weapon or really in any shape to be playing hero. Would it be worth it to risk my neck and check it out? Or would I be better off not getting involved and continue on with my quest?
Eh, fuck it. It’s a risk I guess I’m willing to take. Who knows, maybe I’ll gain a new companion. I exhale another cloud of smoke before continuing forwards. I reach the juncture where the hall splits and round the corner. There’s a door to my right with a plaque that reads ‘Library’ in regular text as well as in smaller braille writing underneath. Just a couple inches from the handle and from the very top of the door is a rectangular window with wired glass. This hall comes to an end about ten feet from the library door where a section of the floor is missing and drops off into pitch black darkness. Even the hall beyond the missing part of the floor is enveloped in the same darkness. At the very end of the hall is what looks like a lonely, long abandoned janitor’s cart.
I cautiously approach the door’s window and peer inside. From what I can see, the library is pretty big. Very tall bookshelves that almost reach the ceiling line the walls while rows of much shorter bookshelves are placed around the room, most of which are toppled over. I can see a few wooden tables with books stacked on top and numerous chairs tossed around and in places they shouldn’t be. As expected, the room is in a total state of disarray. There’s even the partially decomposed corpse of a headless pegasus slumped over at one of the tables. A book is stood up and placed in front of them as if they were reading it in a cruel sense of irony.
“Fuck!” I hear a voice exclaim filled to the brim with sheer, unadulterated fear.
The exclamation is immediately followed by numerous audible thumps and a few unworldly groans. I press my head against the door to get a better view of the room and glance over towards the corner. I do so right in time to witness as a young pegasus filly just barely successfully flutters over to a neighboring bookshelf in time before the one she had been on slowly topples over with a very loud thump. She appears to be somewhere in the preteen, possibly early teenage years and looks absolutely terrified. What’s a child even doing in a place like this? Better yet, who would send a child to this place?
She grabs a book from the top most shelf and throws it down as hard as she can. My gaze follows the book and I watch it hit a reanimated corpse in the head, which momentarily stuns it. A total of seven corpses in various stages of decomposition are throwing themselves into the bookshelf in an attempt to- I assume- knock down the poor filly and do unspeakably horrible things to her. A couple are missing their heads, three of them have their rotting guts hanging out and dragging on the ground and one of them has it’s head twisted nearly completely backwards which is barely hanging on by a thread. Of course I would come across literal zombies in a place like this.
On one hoof, I know I should probably do something to save her, but on the other, I can’t help but feel maybe I should slowly back away and carry on like I never saw this. How exactly am I supposed to accomplish saving that poor filly? I’ve just barely kept myself alive this far and I’m really in no shape to be brawling mindless corpses. I don’t even have a weapon to use! What am I to do? Just walk in and scold them for harassing a child, then expect them to be apologetic and leave politely? I know if I walk in there unarmed they’ll just chew me to pieces! As horrible as it sounds, I’m not so sure I’m willing to sacrifice myself just so this poor child can escape. Sure, she’d be safe then, but what about later? I’m just not sure what to do.
It probably sounds awful and maybe even selfish, but I’ll do what I can to save her as long as I’m not in a great risk of dying and I’m only doing it because- although she may be a child- she might have some very valuable information that may help me- er, us- get out of here. I quietly try to open the door to avoid grabbing the zombies’ attention, but quickly find the door is locked. Big shocker there. I open my saddlebag and fish around for the key I used on the computer lab door only to find that it’s missing. Weird. I could’ve sworn I put it back in my bag. Oh well, I’m not climbing back over that barricade just to go find it.
I look through the window again and down at the door. I can see the lock, but the wired glass is preventing me from reaching it. I need something to break the glass with so I can unlock the door. I could go look for something useful back at trash mountain, but I feel like trying to pull anything out of the pile would result in something akin to a game of Penga gone horribly- and lethally- wrong. Wandering too far is likely a bad idea, so it seems my only viable option is to check the janitor’s cart sitting at the dead end.
I quickly trot over to the abandoned cart and glance down at the darkness below. An icy fear bites at my legs as I stand by the cart. I have a horrible feeling that standing here for too long is a bad idea. I look over the cart and fortunately find a very rusty hammer. I take it and temporarily place it in my bag. I look over the cart again for anything else that might help in getting rid of this minor zombie infestation. I find a couple bottles of drain cleaner sitting on the bottom shelf of the cart. That’s flammable, right? Maybe she could douse them in the cleaner and I could toss a lit match at them, then together we could watch them burn to ash?
It’s a long stretch, something only accomplishable in fictional movies or games, but it might just work. I don’t know how well, though, and it likely won’t go entirely as planned. I grab onto one of the bottles and pick it up- or at least I would’ve, but I can’t seem to actually pick it up. I try the other bottle and am met with the same thing. It’s like they’re glued down or something. I try other objects on this side of the cart and find I can’t move any of them either. So much for that idea, I guess. I go around to the other side of the cart and look around for something useful but- more importantly- moveable to accomplish my goal.
The only thing I find on this side that’s at the very least moveable are two mason jars with rats in them. One rat is very much dead and has its guts all over the bottom of the jar while the other is alive but seemingly just barely. I pick up the jar with the live rat inside and find a note attached to the other side by a piece of tape. This place really loves leaving behind objects or notes with vague, barely helpful information that hint at a solution to some overly complicated issue, doesn’t it? I don’t really have the time to be reading obscure notes right now, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little curious. I take off the note and put the frightened, imprisoned rat down in order to quickly read it;
‘If you found this note, hopefully you’re in a better situation and position then I am. See that gaping hole nearby? I watched my friend get attacked by a frickin’ zombie (a zombie!) and before I could do anything to save her, some kind of… I don’t even know what it was, but it came out of that hole and ate both of them and then disappeared into the depths below. As I stood there in shock and was trying to process what I had just witnessed, my friend was coughed back up by that thing! She was alive, but her wounds were so severe, she died a few minutes later.
This place is horrible and deadly and dangerous and I’m going to do what I can to help others survive until they’re able to escape. I caught these rats to test out a theory I have, but I know I’ll need more rats to be completely sure I’m right. If you’re reading this, I’m clearly dead and never came back from my rat hunt. You’ll just have to trust that I’m right and toss these rats into the hole below. If the dead rat comes back up, that means I was wrong. If both rats stay down, that means I was also wrong. However, if the dead rat stays down and the living rat comes back up still alive, then that means I was right. That thing down in the hole seems to only eat what’s already dead, so I’ve taken to calling it ‘Garbage Disposal’.
Best of luck, Onyx Steel.’
I’ve been silently rooting for my ‘burn it with fire’ method to win, even if the bottles of drain cleaner weren’t moving, but I guess throwing corpses into this ‘Garbage Disposal’ will have to do. That’s assuming this Onyx Steel’s theory is correct and I guess there’s only one way to find that out. Not a big fan of standing dangerously close to gaping chasms that have things that eat bodies inside of it, but I guess I’ll take some solace in the fact that I’m not yet a corpse. I put the note on the cart and grab the jar with the dead rat inside before opening the lid. Even though I’m holding my breath, the rotten smell of this rat makes me dry heave.
I don’t want to be holding this any long that I have to, so I quickly go over the hole and sling the open jar towards it and watch the rat as well as its innards fly out towards and then down into the darkness below. The floor rumbles a bit and I hear the unmistakable sound of jaws clamping against one another and something wriggling around. Slowly the rumbling fades into nothing, I drop the jar and then quickly back away from the hole. I go back to the cart and grab the jar with the living rat inside. I apologize to the poor thing for what I’m about to do before going back to the hole, opening the lid and slinging the rat into the hole. It squeaks in terror as it soars down in the hazardous depths below.
The floor rumbles again as I hear something wriggle around and jaws clamping down once more. The rumbling and wriggling gets more intense until whatever is in the hole gets close enough to spit the rat back out and onto the floor. I’m unable to get a glimpse of the creature, but I guess I should be thankful for that. The poor rat has been sliced to ribbons, but is still alive for the time being. I watch the little rat limp back over to the cart and hide underneath it. I guess that means Onyx’s theory was correct and now I can use that to my advantage. I feel a bit proud until I realize that means I’m likely going to have to play bait in order to get those shambling corpses over this way.
I shouldn’t rush in without a plan, so here’s what I’m thinking. I’ll break the glass, unlock and then open the library door. After that, I’ll get the attention of the zombies- if I don't already have it- and lure them towards Garbage Disposal. I’ll need to be quick once they’re close enough so I don’t accidentally become a victim. Maybe if I get on top of the janitor’s cart, I can jump over them and get a safe enough distance from the hole. After all, the cart seems to be permanently welded to the spot, so taking another spill like I did earlier isn’t likely to happen- or so I hope, anyways. Okay, I guess that’s that, then. Time to go play hero even though I kind of don’t really want to, but hopefully the risk will be worth it.
I go back to the library door and take out the hammer. I make short work of the window and it takes me less than a minute to make enough room for my foreleg to fit through it. I quickly shove the hammer into my bag, turn the lock, pull my leg out and open the door police-raid style. I enter the room and stand there. Just as I thought, the process of opening the door had caught the attention of some of the zombies. Three of them shuffle and stumble in my direction while the other four remain fixated on the poor filly still trapped atop the bookshelf. I spit my cigarette out on the floor and whistle as loudly as I can. My whistle captures the attention of the other four, who turn around and join their buddies in shuffling towards me.
The filly and I briefly make eye contact with another and I simply give her a nod of acknowledgment… or was it reassurement? Either way, I focus on the corpses stumbling towards me and partially back out of the room. One of them charges towards me and closes the gap between us about part of the way before slowing back down to its previous semi-slow pace. I kind of regret spitting out my cigarette as I back out of the room entirely and re-enter the hall. The mindless corpses stupidly fall into my trap as I lure them bit by bit towards Garbage Disposal’s hole. I quickly canter over to the janitor’s cart and stand behind it to wait for the zombies to come even closer towards the hole.
Once they’re standing right where I want them, the floor begins to rumble more aggressively than before. I quickly climb onto the cart with my back turned to the hole. I feel a rush of air and hear as whatever’s taken residency inside the hole comes out to feast. I practically throw myself as far as I can over corpses circling the cart and reaching out for me. I poorly execute a tuck and roll before quickly scrambling to my hooves and watch as Garbage Disposal makes short work of the zombies. I can only describe it as some sort of large, horned worm-creature that looks to be made of an awful, mismash-y ‘quilt’ of pustulous corpses with a flowery mouth filled with razor sharp teeth of varying sizes. It has a long, barbed tongue that helps it ensnare the corpses it doesn’t snatch up with terrifying maw.
Once all of the corpses have been consumed by Garbage Disposal, it quickly retreats back into its dark dungeon of a home. I stare at where it once was and can’t help but feel shocked that my plan actually worked and I wasn’t harmed at all in the process. Even though I had already acknowledged earlier how dangerous of a plan it likely was, I can’t help but internally freak out that my plan could’ve gone so wrong and I could’ve died. I guess seeing what Garbage Disposal really was and how it consumed those zombies really just… hit home just how awful things could’ve been if I had messed up in the slightest.
“What the hell was that?” A shaky voice asks from behind me.
I turn around and look at the source of the voice. The little pegasus stands before me trembling in fear, her ears flattened against her mane and tears streaming down her cheeks. Now that any danger is gone for the time being, I take a good look at the pegasus. Her eyes are bright yellow and remind me of the stars that dot the night sky. Her coat is an eggplant-y purple color and her mane is styled into a short, multi-colored and very curly bob. Her mane is mostly black with swirly stripes of pink, teal and bright blue. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched to say that the little pegasus appears to be the embodiment of the galaxy.
“Be more specific,” I reply.
“That… monster,” The filly clarifies.
“Just the Garbage Disposal,” I say with a nonchalant shrug, as if I didn’t just risk my life.
We stare at each other for a moment or two before the filly pipes up again.
“Um… Thanks,” She says quietly.
“You’re welcome,” I say with a reassuring smile “how’d you end up in that situation?”
“I, uh, uh… I thought it would be a good place to look,” She replies just as quiet “for a way out, I mean. B-But then those zombies came out of nowhere and the door locked itself and refused to open.”
“So then you took refuge atop the bookshelves until I came to your rescue?” I question.
“Y-yeah. I thought more zombies were showing up when you bursted into the room, but I-I’m glad it was just you,” The filly says with a grateful smile.
“How old are you?” I ask.
“Huh? Oh, I’m twelve,” She replies “and you?”
“Good question. I don’t remember. How old do I look to you?” I say with a shrug.
“Uh, I don’t know, like, thirty I guess?” The filly says with a confused look on her face.
“I’d say it’s a long story, but I’m suffering from amnesia so I don’t even know what the story is,” I say with another shrug “what’s your name, kiddo?”
“Oh, it’s, uh, Nimble Star. What’s yours?” The filly says.
“Just call me Dahlia for now. I’m not sure what my real name is, but I’ve been told I look like a ‘really pretty dahlia’ flower,” I say nonchalantly.
“Uh, okay, then,” Nimble says quietly.
“So what’s a little filly like you doing in a place like this?” I ask, hoping to hear more about the elevator.
“What? I-I-I’m not a filly! I’m a colt!” Nimble says in a very offended tone.
“Could’ve fooled me. I don’t make it a habit to look at ponies’ genitals to tell what they are, especially if they’re a child, so forgive my ignorance,” I say sarcastically.
“Hey! It’s not my fault!” Nimble huffs and stomps his hoof.
“What, that you look and sound like a filly? I didn’t say it was, did I?” I scoff and roll my eyes a little.
“No, but… Whatever, just forget it,” Nimble huffs again as he sits and crosses his legs across his chest.
“Already have. You didn’t answer my question, though,” I simply say with a slightly sour look.
“What question? Oh, how I got here? We were forced onto an elevator by some really nasty ponies but I’m not sure what happened after it started going down,” Nimble explains with a small shrug “I… I think they might’ve gassed us. We woke up inside the school with no elevator to be found.”
“We?” I question.
“Yeah, ‘we’ as in me, my mom and a whole bunch of other ponies,” Nimble answers “there was… I think fifteen of us altogether?”
“Who were these nasty ponies?” I ask.
“Guards who do the dirty work of handling the prisoners on behalf of the scientists,” Nimble says in a tone of disgust “they treated us like we were worthless scum.”
“How awful,” I say, trying to sound sympathetic “can you tell me more?”
“Sorry, but I don’t think I can give any useful answers. They were very strict about keeping us in the dark about who they were, what their work was and why we were there,” Nimble says with a sigh “I just know they keep prisoners to use as lab rats for whatever experiments they do. I guess that’s why we’re here.”
“I guess so too. What was it like as a prisoner?” I ask.
“Frickin’ awful, Dahlia. Mom and I were prisoners at one place and then we got moved to another, but of course they knocked us out so we wouldn’t know where,” Nimble replies “I just know they were different because our living quarters changed. It was still just as shitty, though.”
“What was that like?” I question “your living quarters, I mean.”
“Take a really cheap, crappy hotel and combine it with prison, then you’ll have our living quarters. Super small rooms with a single bed barely big enough for two and a doorless bathroom with just a toilet,” Nimble answers with a look of disgust “and the door to our rooms were like jail doors. They’d send us food through these really small vent things and all the meals were pure mush. I don’t know what they were made of.”
“Oh, and there were cameras everywhere! Hallway, bedroom… even the bathroom!” Nimble quickly added.
“That sounds awful. I’m sorry you lived like that,” I say sympathetically “what happened to your mother.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not ready to accept it,” Nimble says quickly and a bit angrily.
I’m guessing something awful happened to his mother. Judging by his response, I think it might be safe to assume that she’s no longer alive.
“That’s fair enough. I’ll help you get out of here, but only if you promise me something,” I say as I pat his shoulder.
“And what would that be?” He questions.
“You help me find somepony important to me,” I say with a smile “this mare right here.”
I pull out the picture of me and the mare from my flashback and show it to Nimble Star.
“Uh, okay. I’ll help you find her if you’ll promise to keep me safe,” Nimble says with a small nod.
“I’ll do my utmost best to do so,” I say as I hold out my hoof.
Nimble looks at my hoof before reaching out with his own. We shake on our promises before moving on down the hall. We walk quietly together as we pass by a large window.
“You know those aren’t even real, right?” Nimble asks out of the blue.
“Hmm? What’s not real?” I counter.
“The scenery outside the windows. They’re fake,” Nimble answers.
“How so?” I ask.
“I broke one with a chair to try and escape, but they’re just illusions. Painted scenery and fake plants in a box to make it look like the outside is real,” Nimble explains “and there’s lights, speakers and sprinklers in them, too, to make it look like it's storming!”
I think back to the mutilated stallion and broken raven from earlier when I was trapped in the looping halls. If what Nimble is saying is true, then how could that incident have occurred? Was that whole situation just an illusion too? I just… don’t understand, but I wish I did. At least now I know my reasoning for giving up on trying to open the window was valid.
“I see. Thanks for the heads up,” I say.
“You’re welcome,” Nimble says with a smile.
Silence returns as we make our way down the hall and hang a right. The lights flicker menacingly as we continue our journey to escape. The lights seem to settle for just a moment before turning off completely, leaving us in total darkness. I quickly take out my flashlight as Nimble clings onto me like his life depended on it. Which it does, if my promise is anything to go by. We slow our pace a bit as we cautiously continue to the end of the hall. I look around with the light and find where the hall branches off to our right. This school really seems to love hallways that go right, doesn’t it?
At the end of this hall, we see what looks to be a set of double doors. Above them is an exit sign softly glowing red. I can’t help but feel a bit excited to see it. I highly doubt this was the actual exit to get out of the school completely, but at least we’d be one step closer to actually finding it. That’s assuming this isn’t just another one of those fake doors this school seems to also love so much. The end of the hall comes seemingly in the blink of the eye and we’re both staring out the windows placed in the doors. It seems there’s an actual outside to this school after all, as outside the windows is a long walkway connecting to a second building. It’s gotten lighter outside, but is still fairly dark. Luckily, lanterns hang from evenly spaced posts along the entirety of the walkway.
“You’ve got to be kidding me! There’s a whole other building?!” Nimble exclaims with an exasperated groan.
“Sure looks like it,” I say as I look down at him.
“Ready when you are.”
