Chapters Author's Note
Hello guys, sorry that I haven’t been posting any chapters for a while. I have been busy with school and work which has caused me to slow down my writing. But now that my schedule has been “complete” I have found the time to write and publish. Since it was October, I decided to write a horror story.
Now; be aware, that I usually do not write horror stories as that’s not my area of expertise but I still wanted to try it out so I decided to make a crossover with Outlast. I picked Pinkie Pie since, in my opinion; the one who smiles the most has experienced the most trauma/sorrow and I decided to explore that idea in this story.
Yes, I know that female ‘patients’ and workers were taken away from the Asylum because of the pregnancy illusion from the Morphogenic Engine. Still, there will be an explanation by the end of the story.
Keyword; story . The final chapter.
Anyways, this story won’t be as gory as the game because even I had trouble keeping my stomach from throwing up. So, I will only give a ‘tip of the iceberg description but not the full thing, if you want to see the full thing, then watch a playthrough from YouTube .
Without interrupting further, I will allow you guys to read the first chapter.
Chapter 1
She didn’t know why she was doing it.
She didn’t know why she felt like she had some weird obligation to make her way over to the one place she had been doing everything in her power to avoid. She had to give herself credit; in many ways, she had succeeded in that particular task.
She had erased her entire existence from the government. Her birth certificate, the schools, she went to, the degrees she holds, everything was gone. It had taken her a lot of work to get it done.
The meetings she had to endure and the money she had to pay to make sure she could never be found again were excessive. She had gone to many people and done a lot of questionable work to get by the next morning.
‘Only the strong will survive,’ echoed in her head like a chant in a ritual.
That was the kind of mindset she had in every situation thanks to the place she was returning to. The questionable job she took was a hitman kind of work where she kills people for money. People that had not bothered her in any way, shape or form. Yet, she took such jobs for easy money.
The adrenaline rush was amazing every time she pulled the trigger or pressed the knife close to the throat. It excited her beyond understanding. It was like when a kid was getting more candy than allowed by their parents.
Only… this wasn’t candy. This was a human being’s life that was being taken away by a person who was paid to do it.
She should probably be disgusted by her behaviour, and frown on the things she does for a living. But she isn’t. She genuinely does not understand why people get so angry or sad over losing someone they ‘love’ despite not having been on speaking terms for years.
‘Why do they get so angry?’ she would ask herself when she returns to the scene of the crime. It’s like they suddenly realised how important that person was to them. She couldn't help but laugh at the thought. They get angry at her for killing their loved ones, after they realise how important that person was.
It didn’t make sense to her.
If they didn’t care before, why would they suddenly do so?
All she was doing was earning a living by not-so-legal means, but why is she the villain for it? She never hears complaints when the police or military do it. The police may not intentionally kill, but most of them, not all, at one point have had to do something horrible to protect the city or people depending on the situation.
The military may not kill for money, but they technically are hitmen. The higher-ups send them information about a dangerous person and are tasked to kill that person. Isn’t that what hitmen do? They get information about different people and kill them, then get paid for it.
For those reasons, she didn’t understand why she was considered the villain.
She gripped the steering wheel of her car tightly as she thought over the many things she heard from other people over the years.
The police never found out it was her, in fact, she doubted they even knew where to start looking, but whenever she was in a café or something and heard people talk about her kills, she couldn’t help but feel angry that they spoke of her as if she was the villain creating problems when it was the opposite!
They were the ones giving her problems by acting as if she was the only one doing it. She didn’t hear them complain about other “criminals” committing crimes… like the place she was going to!
She grits her teeth so hard, that it hurt. Her eyes were filled with pure rage that was infecting her mind like a swarm of bees. They had taken so much from her. They’d humiliated her so many times she had lost count.
Humility, though, wasn’t the worst thing they had stolen from her. The worst thing they stole from her was her innocence. She’d do anything to get that back. She knew it was impossible, but it was a nice thought; something that comforted her at night.
She passed a sign that read; Mount Massive Asylum .
She did everything in her power to not drive at maximum speed to destroy as much property as possible. The thought made her happy. Forcing them to pay for repairs for something she did. A light giggle escaped her mouth.
It was a funny thought, one she wouldn’t mind doing. The idea wasn’t bad, but she had a better idea. A much better idea. Something that she knew would hurt the Asylum so bad, that the world would demand something be done.
When she turned her car to the right following the path, she saw the one place she had prayed and hoped she’d never return to. But life likes to play with people.
She slowed down the car until she parked it close to the checkpoint where the security guards would make sure personnel actually were who they claimed to be. But… there was no one there.
Strange…
She parked the car and turned off the engine. Looking to the passenger seat, she saw the camcorder she had bought for this particular mission of hers. Grabbing it and a battery, she opened the camcorder to see if it worked.
This camcorder wasn’t a normal one either; it had night vision. Usually, cameras didn’t have that, they had a plain old recorder that could record what was happening in life. The camcorder had that program in it, so it’s not something she could avoid.
Not that she would complain. From the looks of the Asylum, it was pitch black in some rooms. It probably would save her life tonight.
She got out of the car, camcorder in her hand and recording. Her mind became sharper than a knife, something she hadn’t needed in a long time.
Whenever she did the act, she just did it; she didn’t need a mind sharp as steel or something. She would watch as the one she killed would try to ask for her help, stretching out their hand as if she was God, the one who could heal them.
But she couldn’t. So their last few moments, they would see her stand there weapon in hand.
Never in those moments, did she need a sharp mind.
But… this place, this hellhole… this was the only place where she needed such a line of thinking. Using her free hand, she felt the inner pockets of her jacket and found the large army knife she had brought with her.
She grabbed it and let out a sigh before she made her way toward the fence door and kicked it open, her camcorder recording everything in her path. But she found herself surprised when she saw two military-like vehicles parked weirdly.
Normally, she wouldn’t question someone’s parking skills, but it looked as though whoever drove those vehicles was in a rush.
Stopping dead in her tracks, she glanced at the Asylum and then changed her look to the vehicles and a few questions arose from her. Why would the army or whoever, come in a rush to this place? They didn’t listen to lunatics who demanded to be released after being experimented on, so why would they suddenly come?
Unless…
Did the personnel that work there contact them?
Well, she wouldn’t be surprised if she would be honest. The workers weren’t as strong as the prisoners as she would call them because that is what she was; a prisoner when she sat in that filthy cell, being tortured in many different forms not just physical but also mental.
The longer she stared at the Asylum, the more she wanted to rush inside so she could hurt them the same way they’d hurt her. She grabbed her knife so hard that she hurt her hand. It would feel nice to feel their blood rush down because of her. Changing the colour of the floor to something more fitting…
Turning her head away from the front doors, she made her way to the other side to see if she could get in from there. She doubted that she could just waltz in from the front doors. Especially considering that she was by their rules still a ‘patient’ who needed ‘treatment’ from what? Only God knows.
That, and the fact that she had assaulted one of the workers that had treated her like dirt.
But damn, had it been worth it.
She didn’t smile or giggle as she remembered how she had attacked the worker with a sharp pen and stabbed her in the back of the neck.
Despite the stab wound, the worker, to her knowledge, was alive and well.
So by all means, she was alive but was probably bitter and wanted to find her so she could get payback for whatever it cost to treat her neck.
The pink girl couldn’t stop herself from grinning sadistically. The thought made her want to meet the woman. She would always remember her name.
Twilight Sparkle.
That was the name of the woman who had tortured her in so many horrific ways possible. She had conducted experiments on her when she was researching for the disgusting company that held her prisoner.
Murkoff.
It was a company that had been accused many times before of doing horrific things, but they were quickly silenced by many different means. The normal one? Execution.
Every time she tried to find someone who tried to report the company they all showed that they had “accidental” deaths of different kinds that she knew weren’t accidental. Just by reading how the text was written and checking the photos, it was clear to anyone with half a brain that something was amiss.
So, it wasn’t out of the question for Pinkie to believe that Sparkle could torture her and get away with it. Hell, she could do whatever she wanted as long as she remained loyal to Murkoff. She doubted that she was the only victim of Sparkle.
Pinkie suddenly jerked and looked around and realised that she was still outside of the Asylum. Shaking her head furiously as if to clear it, she made her way to the other side of the building and saw that one of the fence doors had an opening in the lower left.
Crouching down, she moved through it with ease.
She wasn’t skinny, but she was far from fat. She could never eat too much because she didn’t have a big appetite. It was non-existant to her. She only ate what she needed to eat and that was it.
Standing on her two legs, she saw that there were several layers of what she assumed were construction work. There weren’t heavy machines or anything, but she assumed that they were polishing the stones to make sure that the building remained strong.
With a blank look, she made her way towards one of the layers and put the camcorder and knife away and climbed up.
Pulling up her body with ease, she grabbed her knife and looked around her, even checking behind her to see if anyone was watching her. She found it strange how quiet it was. Usually, several security guards walk around at all times.
When she escaped, the guards were all over the damn place, she barely managed to get away because of how many guards there were.
Albeit, the alarms were ringing, so she doesn’t know how many guards there are normally outside.
She shrugged her shoulders. Bringing out her camcorder and knife she made her way upward so she could break inside the building and wanted to see if she could get some top-secret projects that could make the company fall or something big enough to cause serious scandal.
Admittingly, she didn’t know where exactly she could find such papers. But she was certain she would be able to find them somewhere. They definitively had written forms. That she was certain of.
When she had made her way over to climb up, she had seen an open window and was hoping she could jump up to it and get inside. She didn’t know who was stupid enough to open the window, but she guessed it was her lucky night.
Making her way over to where she had seen the open window, she glanced around, trying to see if she could see any guards but found none. It was weird, what was going on?
Her mind was telling her something was extremely wrong but she didn’t stop making her way over to the window. When she saw the window, she jumped up and pulled herself up and stood on her two feet.
When she glanced inside the room, the light in the room exploded, allowing the darkness to take the room under its wings. She would be lying if she said that her heart didn’t beat faster than it should. She turned on night vision so she could see inside the darkness with her camcorder.
“What the fuck?” Pinkie let out when she saw a few bookshelves pushed over with books, broken glass and a pile of blood in the middle of it all.
It surprised her that it was this messy. It wasn’t unusual for her to see blood because the security guard would sometimes beat up the prisoners to let out some pent-up rage, but this was extreme even for them.
Looking around, she realised she wasn’t in the holding prison area…
She was in an… office? An office of sorts…
Why was this kind of violence conducted in an office? That was one thing she knew the guards never did. They only did such things in specific areas, not nice offices. Or, had they gotten a taste for nice offices now?
Slowly, Pinkie made her way towards the door on the other side of the room.
But if the guards beat someone in here, why were there broken glass and overturned bookshelves? It looked as though someone was trying to escape or something akin to it.
Had someone tried to escape?
Pinkie frowned as she thought about it. She knew of a few who would probably try to escape, but to her knowledge, they didn’t have the right ‘equipment’ to be able to do so. Which is funny, not much was required to escape.
All she used was a sharp pen and her two legs to get away.
But then again, she hadn’t seen or heard from them in several years.
Opening the door from her room, she glanced first to the left and saw the narrow hallway. She frowned deeply as she saw that there was blood on the walls.
The blood didn’t bother her, but it made her confused. Why was there blood on the walls? Pinkie slowly made her way down the hallway but stopped in front of a door and kicked it open, her camera and knife ready.
She looked around like a soldier on a mission. But all she saw was a small office. That was it. A desk, chair, computer and some papers. Making her way around the desk she checked the different layers to try and find batteries or something she could use.
Luckily for her, she found a battery so she grabbed it without hesitation and made her way out the door and continued down the hallway.
Through all of this, she had recorded almost every second. While she doubted that Murkoff would fall because of blood on the walls, Pinkie was getting the feeling that something more was going on.
Glancing the walls, she saw that the portraits were turned slightly to one side, with some blood splatter. Up ahead of her, was a restroom she suspected but getting closer, someone closed the door.
Her heart raced when she saw and heard it. Slowly, she made her way to the other room where the door was completely open, revealing a cafeteria of sorts. Pinkie made her way inside and kept glancing back to the door.
Pinkie may not feel the same kind of fear as a normal civilian, but she didn’t know who her enemy was in this situation. She didn’t know the person’s strength so she didn’t know if she could defeat such a foe.
Noticing the door being wide open she walked up to it and slowly closed it and walked over to the counter where there was a sink. She noticed a metal, shining tray that held something…
Pinkie’s face hardened with a dark aura that would terrify armies. On the small tray was a piece of someone's spine.
She looked away and saw that there was a ventilation system and blood on the roof, dripping down to the floor. Any normal person would grimace at the sight, but Pinkie didn’t. She had seen and done things that made her be seen as ‘abnormal’ in every sense of the word.
Instead, she grinned at the thought of any of the guards being the one who bled this.
Looking to the side, she saw there was a way for her to climb up so she made her way over to it. Climbing into the ventilation system she saw how dirty it was. There was filth, cobwebs, and even blood.
Making her way towards the light where there was an opening, she glanced down where she had been and saw that there was a man in the uniform that made her remember the past. He was bald and barefoot. He glanced to the left and right before he ran out and closed the door behind him.
“Tch, I could have taken him on.” Pinkie mumbled to herself, feeling herself becoming bloodthirsty.
While she didn’t want to hurt any of the other prisoners, she couldn’t help but want to feel blood rush out of their bodies because of her. She began smiling sadistically until she realised what it was she was thinking.
“Stop thinking that!” Pinkie ordered herself, getting out of the ventilation system with a huff.
She was in a kind of lobby of sorts with blurry windows. Looking across to the other side, her heart sank when she saw who was on the other side.
A tall man with what looked to be grey skin dragged his feet across the floor with sounds of clanking. He had blood that covered his body as if it was a tattoo that described his battles with whatever was going on inside of the Asylum.
“Chris Walker,” Pinkie let out quietly as if seeing an old friend.
The only thing she knew was that he was a veteran that had two tours to Afghanistan. But just like every soldier once in their life; he suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
“What the hell happened to him?!” Pinkie furiously asked herself and was going to walk over to him, but noticed that books were blocking her way. Bookshelves were turned over as if trying to stop whoever was chasing the person. “Asshole,”
With no other choice, she opened the door.
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Leaving the 'living room' behind her, she walked down the hallway where she had killed one of the variants.
The body was still there, unmoving with a pool of blood surrounding him. The wheelchair had moved slightly, but it didn't arouse Pinkie's suspicions.
However, she did stop in her tracks to look at the dead variant to see if she recognised the body.
From where she was standing, he looked to be very skinny and bald. Not that the man looked fat when she crouched.
"Tch," Pinkie sneered and walked away with a shake of her head.
She always wondered one thing; why were she and Sparkle the only women in the entire building?
Pinkie remembered when some equal men and women worked there along with a few prisoners. But suddenly, out of nowhere, they all just stopped showing up. The female patients became pregnant, and if Pinkie wasn't mistaken, there had been a few female workers who looked bigger in the gut.
The pink woman highly doubted that they never allowed their workers to have a private life. But, she was concerned for the prisoners.
Pinkie wouldn't put it past them to rape the patients be it male or female. She'd been a victim herself of such things and had heard the pleading of the other prisoners.
She remembered one cellmate who had become a 'best friend' of sorts. They would have their version of 'girl talk' and would help each other when they needed it.
Walking into the office room where hundreds of computers were turned on.
Glancing around to make sure that Chris wasn't around, she made her way out of the room and saw that the reception hadn't changed much.
Good. It meant that Chris wasn't down here yet.
Pinkie walked around the reception and made her way to the security room. She knew that Father Martin was around here somewhere, watching her or doing God knows what.
Pinkie saw the hallway and wasn't surprised to see a prisoner who barged down a door several rooms down, screaming something about Chris Walker. Even before she escaped; the prisoners had always made sure to stay out of Chris’ way to not anger him.
The military veteran was by no means unfit, as he certainly still does display the strength he once used in war to protect civilians who aren’t grateful for it and take it for granted.
There was one time, however, when Chris had gotten back from taking a bath that one of the prisoners attacked him because he had an episode of whatever disorder the guy had. Chris, without blinking, pushed him against the wall with such force that it both knocked the guy out and left a large hole in the wall.
But he didn’t stop there…
He stomped on the guy's head repeatedly while the guards tried to stop him. Chris, though, was a lot stronger, so he managed to break the guy's head, leaving a pool of blood and brains splattered on the floor.
Pinkie didn’t shudder at the memory.
It probably should, considering, she was there, and saw it with her two eyes.
But after several years of being surrounded by such violence had lost its effect on her. Whenever she heard there had been a murder or fight of some kind, she was always shocked by how… mundane it sounded.
The murders and fights outside of the asylum were so tame that they actually disappointed Pinkie. The ones inside of the hellhole she was inside of were always gruesome, so gruesome that it sometimes made Pinkie vomit at the sight.
She stopped in her tracks when she was right beside the metal security door that was locked.
Pinkie’s mouth twitched slightly. She had known that regardless, she would need the security card because how would she catch Father Martin’s attention? She needed to act as though she would leave which would make the self-proclaimed priest take Pinkie further into the asylum.
Glancing to her left where the black square security device hung proudly to the side. There was a glowing red light, showing that it was locked.
Grabbing the card from her pocket, she placed it near the device so it could scan the numbers. When she heard a clicking noise, she smiled and opened the door that made a loud noise as it swung open.
Inside the security room were a few lockers for the workers there along with several computers that monitored every possible area the prisoners could try and escape from.
It made her angry. She realised that some of the camera areas were probably new; meaning that after her escape they placed cameras in those areas to ensure that none of the prisoners escaped to a T.
Clenching her hand where she held her knife, she walked towards the nearest chair. Glancing around the cameras, she saw a few different areas and rooms where there either looked eerie or had dead bodies in them, clear as day.
When she started typing in the code for the security system to make it look more realistic in case Father Martin was watching her.
To her surprise, however, it came up a feed in one of the cameras where Father Martin looked directly into the camera before he pulled a lever that shut off the electricity in the building.
For a few seconds, there was only pitch-black darkness that surrounded the area, making her huff in annoyance. That is until a small lamp in the room lit up.
When the lamp turned on, Pinkie saw that every computer was shut off and nothing was clearly working which came as no surprise to her.
She couldn’t keep her smug look off her face.
Everything was going according to plan.
Abruptly, she heard metal clanking and heavy walking which made her heart beat faster. Standing up, she tip-toed to one of the lockers and hid inside without making too much noise to draw attention to her. The last thing she wanted was Chris chasing her down to the basement where she was sure was another variant walking around.
Pinkie listened and watched through the small horizontal lines that showed the room.
“We have to contain it,” Came the deep, terrifying voice of Chris Walker. He sounded like he had trouble breathing as he took deep breaths every so often which made him sound horrifying.
Suddenly, he punched the door, making it shake. He punched it again and again until the door flew off its hinges and landed on the floor, giving Chris access to the room.
Pinkie watched as he made his way over to the computers and held her breath for as long as he was there.
“You were here weren’t you? Pinkie, I’ll find all you whore’s.” He made his way over to the locker that was beside Pinkie who felt her eyes widen in anticipation. She clenched her knife tightly.
Watching Chris, she saw and heard when he closed the locker and made his way to the fallen door and stepped right on it and entered the hallway. He glanced all over the place, turning his body down the different hallways as if to see Pinkie come running.
Slowly, he turned to the left and made his way down the hallway without looking back.
When Pinkie couldn’t hear his footsteps or metal clanking, she got out of her hiding place and brought the camera close to her, turning on night vision. She peered into the hallway where she’d seen Chris walk but saw no one there.
Taking the other way, Pinkie kept glancing back, wondering if he’d come back and if he did, she knew that there was no way she could beat him. He was much stronger than her and could easily overpower her if he wanted to. And she knew he did.
“Fuck, what a mess,” She muttered when she saw the staircase going down with an overturned wheelchair with blood leading down. Not paying it any head, she walked down the staircase and saw an open door with rubble and debris scattered all over the place. “Just what the fuck happened here?”
She tip-toed inside while still looking back, expecting to see Chris behind her.
There was an entrance through a red brick wall that was big enough for her and any other skinny variants. Getting through, she held her knife tightly as she knew there was someone down here with her. She certainly wasn’t alone, that was for sure.
The only bad thing about this was that her legs were all wet. She didn’t grimace since she knew the whole place was destroyed and would continue to get destroyed tonight.
Getting into the hallway, she made her way slowly, fully aware that the water was making so much noise that she was certain that Chris heard it on the first floor. When she jumped over a desk and made a huge splash, she heard a fellow variant from the other side of the wall.
“Who… whose there?!” The variant demanded.
Pinkie ignored him in favour of peeking to the right and saw where the button for the power was. Seeing that, she knew that there were a few levers she would have to pull to turn on the power.
‘I don’t know if I should fight him head-on or if I should leave him be, ’ Pinkie debated with herself.
Moving slowly down the small hallway, she contemplated her options. On one hand, she could fight him and try to kill him so she could finish the more smoothly, but that might attract the attention of other variants who wants in on the fun.
But if she were to leave him alive, he would no doubt chase her. Maybe if she pulled the two levers that were in this room, she could potentially force the variant to investigate and sneak into the other side where the final lever was.
With that plan in mind, Pinkie made her way inside.
The reason she knew there were two levers here was that she had been taken to this… part by one of the guards… through that, she had seen a few guards handling the electricity. She didn’t know where the third lever was except for the fact that it was beyond the door where the variant was patrolling.
With the other variant in mind, Pinkie had no idea who he was. She slightly recognised the voice but she didn’t have a face to remember it with.
He might have been another prisoner that had tried to fight the guards and had screamed so loud that she heard him.
She didn’t know.
Carefully getting on to the small platform in front of her, she glanced around with her camcorder and saw nothing except for the platform where the electricity button was and two doors in front of her behind the platform of the important big red button.
Deciding to take the door to the farthest back, she jumped into the water and landed with a splat. The water sent waves out as Pinkie walked over to the door.
She kept glancing over to the door to the left every so often which led to the third lever that was in there somewhere. If her hunches were correct, she couldn’t get in there because it was locked. Which, of course, made her wonder how Father Martin made it passed the variant.
When she reached the door, she stepped up to the platform and opened the door gently to not draw attention. When she saw the red light, she grinned smugly.
Making her way to the lever, she gave herself a few seconds before she pulled the lever, making the red light turn green. As it made the noise, she bolted out of the room and made her way to the second door where the second lever was.
Reaching the door, she slammed it open and shut it with the same force, making a loud ‘bang!’ noise. She turned to the lever and pulled it, making it turn green and made the same noise as the first one, making her grin.
Looking around quickly, she saw a bed and ran over to it, camcorder and knife in hand and crawled under for safety. She didn’t know how big the variant was and she didn’t know how strong or what weapons he possessed so it was better to play it safe this time just in case.
Pinkie suddenly heard banging noises coming from outside, and they sounded aggressive. Good thing, she had a weapon with her if things turned ugly. She kept recording but did notice that her battery was dying.
‘Shit!’ Pinkie thought and quickly changed batteries.
Suddenly, there was a loud crashing noise which made her clench her knife. The variant on the other end was strong enough to knock down the door, so she could bring him down, but she needed to know how big and strong he was. If she had that, then she’d feel safe fighting against the variant who was probably armed.
The banging started again. This time, it was much louder and closer than what was comfortable. The door was old and looked ready any second to fly off its hinges which made Pinkie clench her knife and camcorder in anticipation.
Suddenly, the door fell to the floor after the final punch, revealing a man in his thirties or forties. He was bald and carried a baseball bat or a piece of wood that resembled a baseball bat and had a few extremely sharp wires around it.
‘I could take him on, but not here, I’ll do it after I pull the final lever,’ Pinkie thought to herself as she watched the variant observe the room as if trying to find her. ‘I wonder why he allowed Father Martin down here?’
It was one of the questions that were troubling her the most. How did the priest walk around the asylum without getting hurt? Was it because he was a priest ? It would make a little bit of sense because a lot of the variants were quite religious, almost all of them being Christian while there were a few other ones who were Satan Worshippers.
Strangely enough, the two differences never clashed with each other, they respected each other and left each other be when it came to religion and rarely discussed it unless they were in a setting where that was maybe needed.
Pinkie remembered vividly when Father Martin would read the Bible to her as a way to help her and give her hope. Her best friend was no different. They learned a lot from him in the religion department, despite the fact he only spoke the chapters of Revelation.
Still, it made Pinkie smile whenever she saw him. It was one of the few times when she could not worry about the guards doing anything to her and could relax while listening to Father Martin speaking about the end of times, like the Four Horsemen.
Pinkie was brought out of her musings when she heard footsteps. She glanced and saw that the variant was leaving the room, stopping briefly to look to the left and right before taking the left path.
Slowly, the pink-haired woman crawled from under the bed and stood on her two feet while clutching the camcorder and knife. The knife was to her side but ready to stab the variant if he, for whatever reason, decided to turn back and check the room she was in.
Pinkie tip-toed to the door and peeked to the left and saw that the variant entered the room she had rushed out of. Grinning, she made her way over to the fallen door that the variant had come out of while occasionally glancing back to make sure that he didn’t come out and surprise her.
Climbing the small platform, she entered the hallway and saw that there were a couple of open doors that revealed rooms with different kinds of body parts and blood splatter.
‘How delightful,’ Pinkie sneered and picked the left path which led into the darkness. She glanced into the rooms she came across and could open in case there was another variant that wanted to slaughter her too, but she never found anyone. If anything, the one in the main room with the two levers seems to be the only one in the basement area from what she could see and hear.
It was odd.
But then again, he probably killed whatever comrade he had down here so she shouldn’t be surprised. So why was she?
When Pinkie reached the end of the hallway, she saw that there was a left and right path, so she decided to take the right path since that was the darkest area and probably would be where the lever is.
That, and she had picked the left path a lot so why not?
Walking down the hallway she came across a desk she had to jump over which she did with ease and continued until she came across a door.
Putting the knife in her pocket, she opened the door slowly and saw that there were a few shelves with boxes, lockers, and the lever! Grinning, Pinkie made her way inside and pulled the lever down and for the third time, it made the sound that would draw her attention but also help in turning on the electricity.
If she had calculated everything right, she had given Father Martin enough time to get a syringe with sleeping medication or at least something that would make her fall asleep.
So when she gets out of the basement, she should sleep soundly and be brought to her cell until she would wake up.
Suddenly, she heard wt footsteps make their way over to her and she glanced around and found the lockers and immediately bolted for them and hid. Pinkie did have a feeling that lockers would become her friend for tonight.
Hearing the footsteps enter the room, Pinkie braced herself in case the variant would open her locker. Which he did.
“FOUND YOU!” He shouted with hatred in his voice seeping in like an open wound and swung his weapon at Pinkie.
The Pink woman swung her knife at his throat, causing him to bleed profusely. He looked shocked. He dropped his weapon and got down to one knee while clutching his throat as if he could save his life.
Pinkie looked into his eyes and saw that he looked shocked and confused, but not the normal kind. He had the confusion about how he lost the fight.
He gurgled before he fell, face forward making a loud ‘thud’ noise.
Pinkie let out a breath she was unaware she was holding. “Fuck sake…” she muttered. She did realise she wouldn’t be this lucky next time. Next time, she would have to really fight to survive and if Chris walked was involved, then she really did need to hide or use her knife like an expert.
Recording the body with her camcorder, she stared at the variant for a long time but concluded that she did not recognise him.
With that, she left the room and entered the hallway once more.
She walked back the way she had come and entered the room where the final generator was which was a button this time.
Not caring about noise, Pinkie made her way over to the button she had to press. With a fist, she pressed the button, making it so that the entire building got its electricity back making her huff.
Turning her back to the room without looking back, she made her way back the way she came, completely oblivious to a shadow entity that was in the room with her, subtly glaring at her.
When Pinkie reached the first floor, she saw that the electricity was back on and that the hallway where the security room was, was lit up. With a small smile, she made her way over to the place she knew Father Martin would be waiting for her.
Reaching the room, she pretended that she was going to open the security doors when she was grabbed from behind by Father Martin. Looking up and feeling panicked, she saw a comically huge needle with some green stuff in it before it was forcefully stabbed into her and put into her.
The priest let her go when he was sure she had gotten some of the medicine in her system.
“I’m sorry, Pinkie, I truly didn’t want to do this to you,” He said regretfully with genuine sorrow. “But you can’t leave, not yet. There is so much for you to witness.” He stopped suddenly and glanced into one of the cameras.
“Will you see it?” He asked Pinkie. The woman turned to the camera feed and saw how the soldiers with weapons were thrown around like ragdolls while losing their limbs in the process. “Our lord The Wallrider tearing His truth into the unbelievers.”
Pinkie could hear the large H when Father Martin spoke.
“The only way out of this place is the truth. Accept the Gospel and all doors will open before you.” Father Martin finally said.
With that, Pinkie passed out from the medicine.
Author's Note
Hello guys, here is the 3rd chapter of this series. In this chapter, I focused mostly on Pinkie gaining back the electricity in the building while she killed one of the variants. In the beginning I had planned on not doing it, but the more I wrote the more sense It made.
So in the end, I offed the character and made so Pinkie is on her way to the cell for the next chapter where she will need to get out of the cell where Father Martin was once sleeping in.
That was all from me guys, see you in the next chapter.
Her eyes fluttered, seeing a bright light above her, making it increasingly difficult for the pink woman to fall right back asleep. But there was something that wasn’t quite right.
The bed felt rough and metallic.
Opening her eyes, she was greeted with a white wall with black markings. At first, she was confused as it didn’t resemble her room or the bed. Instead, it felt…
Her eyes widened slightly as she remembered what mission she’d given herself. She was inside Mount Massive Asylum. The place she had sworn to never return to and yet here she is. Doing it because why the fuck not?
Turning her head away from the wall, she saw that there was a heavy metal cell door that was locked. Groaning slightly at that, she put herself into a sitting position and saw that by the end of the ‘bed’ was her camcorder that Father Martin had left her.
‘Made it,’ Pinkie thought smugly as she glanced around the room, seeing there were multiple writings and crosses all over.
It must have been Father Martin’s cell.
Getting up from the bed, she glanced at the door wondering if it was open or locked. For it to be either, there was a fifty-fifty chance that she could try out. But she suspected wholeheartedly that it was locked.
The reason for her suspicion was that if Father Martin saw her as an ‘Apostle’ of Wallrider, then he would do everything to protect her and do so she had enough recording footage so she could write a form of ‘Testament’ of the Wallrider.
But that couldn’t be if she left the building or was killed. Naturally, he would be too focused on putting signs or clues all over the place so he wouldn’t be able to help her if she ran into Wallrider or Chris Walker. But there would be moments when he would undoubtedly show her affection as Father Martin sees himself as the most loyal follower of Wallrider while Pinkie, for tonight, would be the Apostle, ‘sent’ by the wallrider.
Pinkie also knew that Father Martin couldn’t afford to lose her as an Apostle, which was why he drugged her and brought her to his cell while also locking it.
She highly doubt he locked it to prevent her from escaping. It was the opposite, it was to protect her from the other inmates that either wants to rape and murder her or something much worse. But, she was certain that at any moment or minute, a variant would open the door for her and allow her to step out and move on to her task.
Pinkie couldn’t help but chuckle lightly in a creepy way.
It worked. She had planned this for the last four weeks and it worked better than expected. The fact that there had been a riot of sorts only made things a lot easier for her. Either it was the variants who would have to kill everyone, or would have been her.
They made her job incredibly easy.
When she was finished with her moment of craziness, Pinkie saw a variant run up to her door and unlocked it, making it open silently, while the man ran away to do God-Knows-What.
Taking it as her cue to continue, she walked out of the room and noticed that she was on the second floor. The lights were dimly lit around the place while a few variants were simply hanging around below her. There was one variant who was banging his head forcefully enough to bleed, but he didn’t stop.
Pinkie pulled out her knife and clenched her fist with it.
How dare Murkoff do this to them? What did they ever do?! Nothing! Instead of getting them proper help, they simply pump drugs and other garbage into their system while conducting experiments that would land them in a military court.
Yes, a military court.
Pinkie did some research and found out that Murkoff had been on trial by a military court somewhere in Europe which wasn’t specified, but they had sadly failed, so it was considered a draw since the country in Europe did have some information that did hurt the company.
…but not enough from stopping them from experimenting.
And since experimentation was the reason they ended up in a courtroom, the other nations to her knowledge, followed the example and put Murkoff on the status that if a crime were to happen, the whole company is involved, they would end up in military court.
This is something that intrigued Pinkie, as to her knowledge beforehand; only the military, government, and politicians could be in such a trial considering that those three have bigger status and responsibility.
Or, at least, she thought it was.
Then again, maybe the European nation that tried to fight them saw something that they deemed to be too dangerous to be in a normal civilian courtroom.
Looking away from the variant, she walked to the left while she heard another variant scream bloody murder as he told someone to get away from him while rattling the metal cell door so much, everyone there heard it.
Not that the other variants made any form of gesture that they’d heard it.
While walking, Pinkie glanced at the other cells that had other prisoners held up. One of them punched through the glass while trying to grab someone or something but after a while, he pulled back his hand and started dancing.
Or, it looked like dancing.
Pinkie didn’t say anything as she wasn’t surprised.
She had seen this when she had been a prisoner herself. It was no surprise that the other variants were like this when they are tortured and mocked on a day-to-day basis when they've done nothing wrong.
If you were going to mock or discriminate against someone, you would have to realise that eventually, that person would do something to you, either physically or psychically.
Pinkie had seen both spectrums, and none were pretty. She’s surprised that some people hadn’t committed suicide for the things that had been retaliated against them. But even if they didn’t jump off a building, the damage had certainly already been done.
When she reached the end of the second floor, she took s right and saw that there were two naked men behind a cell door on the other side. The men looked to be identical so she realised that it was the naked twins.
Pinkie didn’t know their real names, but she had heard they were cannibals but were… ‘fair’ on the one they would be eating, giving the person a chance to escape.
She had never spoken to them before or even seen them. But she had been informed they were there.
“Whose this?” One of them asked.
“Maybe Father Martin’s Apostle,” The other one replied.
“Maybe,” The first one acknowledged.
“Yes, I am Father Martin’s ‘Apostle’, now, could you tell me where he is?” Pinkie asked calmly as if she had a normal conversation.
If the twins were surprised by her question, they didn’t show it. They did however respond.
“He is creating the path for you to follow, all you need to do is follow the path and you’ll find him.” The second twin explained emotionless like a robot.
Pinkie nodded and walked away, feeling the eyes of the twins behind her.
She knew and understood that they would chase her and try to kill her. Pinkie understood why, she had been a prisoner here after all. They’re hungry for human flesh.
Pinkie didn’t grimace at the thought. Food is food. You do what you need to survive, so cannibalism for Pinkie is just a method of survival.
She’d be lying if she said that she didn’t want to try human meat. From what she had read and learned from books and scientists, it tastes like pork, which is why humans wouldn’t think it's human meat if it was given to them.
Her stomach growled and she giggled slightly as she patted her stomach. It was unusual for her to become hungry as she was always fasting as well as she didn’t like eating because she’d been force-fed so many times that she almost vomits from eating normally.
Drinking isn't a problem however so she usually drinks what she needs to survive in terms of protein, and nutrition. However, there was only so much she could drink before she would need to feed herself solid food she needed to chew and swallow.
Nonetheless, she still does it and she succeeds with a small effort. Some of it comes straight up while some of it remains.
When she reached the other prisoners who were hanging around, she saw just how crazy some of them were which didn’t surprise her. If they weren’t crazy before they ended up in this hellhole, they certainly were now.
She saw that one of them was in a wheelchair.
For the lack of a better word, he looked like shit. He had stitches in some areas of his body as if he’d been cut open. Judging by how he looked, he most likely had been cut open as he didn’t have his manhood.
Pinkie would be lying if she said she didn’t feel anything for him.
The poor man had been tortured by Murkoff just like her and he was still alive but barely. In her opinion, he should try and flee this terrible place. He had the chance, no one could stop him except maybe Chris if he would accidentally run into him on his way out.
That was a possibility that made Pinkie shudder.
Walking away from the man, she glanced around until she saw an open door to a cell that was pitch black. Turning on night vision with her camera, she walked inside and immediately heard screaming, but she couldn’t determine if it was of pain or something else.
With her night vision, she saw that there was a gap in the wall that allowed her to walk past if she walked on her side. She did so without any trouble.
The screaming just got louder, making Pinkie realise she was close to whatever was happening. She saw that there was a box on the floor ahead of her that she could use to climb on top of a platform.
Pinkie made her way over and climbed on top and put her knife and camcorder away as she forced her body up until she could get her footing. When she did so, she pulled out her camcorder and knife immediately and had scared when she saw an ugly face immediately.
The face was very much alive. One-half of his face looked rotten with parts of his brain sticking out.
At the sight of him, she clenched her knife tightly as she heard the sounds that had been going on for a few minutes. Walking to the side, she felt the man's eyes bore into her as if trying to find information or whatever.
What she saw, disgusted her.
That was the first time she had been disgusted by something in a very long time. Actually being disgusted by something another fellow prisoner or ‘variant’ was doing to another. The man was having fun with a corpse.
When the man noticed her, he panicked. “Agh, jeez! What the fuck is the matter with you?” He asked as if what he was doing was normal.
Pinkie’s eye twitched.
“You're the motherfucker who is fucking a corpse and you asking what’s the matter with me?!” Pinkie irritatedly asked. “You want to fight or what, punk!?”
The man froze when she asked if he wanted to fight as if he hadn’t expected it to escalate to this. Maybe he didn’t expect the reply.
“No, no… I don’t want to fight you.” He replied with a relatively calm voice to not upset her more than he had already done.
“You better not you punk, or else I’ll cut off your head and give it to Chris,” She angrily stated, making the man stumble on his feet from shock. “Tch,”
Pinkie turned around and saw a metal cell door wide open with light further down the hallway.
Making her way down the small corridor, she heard someone shout after her.
“Hey you, yeah you… oh,” The man turned around and ran back the way he presumably came from, making Pinkie shrug her shoulders at his odd behaviour.
He probably thought she was someone else.
Walking towards where the light was, she saw that there was a dead security guard with a small blood trail. She grinned.
Without any form of reason; she kicked the head, further impaling it into the stone wall. She did it with rage. Looking at the blood trail, she scoffed and walked away from the body and saw that she was where she began but on the other side on the second floor.
To her right was the location where the two naked twins had been but they weren’t there anymore. It stood empty, but there was an eerie feel to it.
The pathway over was destroyed but she could walk to her side over to where the twins had been before. Shrugging, she started making her way over to the other side while listening to what was going on around her.
It wasn’t anything interesting, just grunts of pain and anguish which she could sympathise with.
When she got to the other side, she saw and heard the man from before saying something about how he could save something for her and wait. Ignoring his request, she took a right and saw there was blood on the wall as writing.
God Always Provides a Way. Follow The Blood.
Father Martin had without question been here.
Glancing at the arrow that pointed to the left. Looking to the left, she saw a disinfection chamber. She checked the lock and saw that it was active but she knew she couldn’t reuse this route if she needed it. So taking in a deep breath, she walked inside it, the doors opening and closing for her before it spread some green disinfection.
After it was done, the doors to the other side opened and she walked out and saw that there was a staircase leading up. However, she wanted to check under the staircase for any batteries or journals she could use against Murkoff that would make them sink from power.
Luckily for her, the thing she found was a battery she knew would be useful for her. Grabbing it, she smiled to herself before she started making her way up the staircase.
As she was walking up the staircase, she started to hear a voice that was low and quiet, but at the same time, it sounded so loud.
“Down the drain, down the drain…” The voice kept repeating as if the variant was saying some chant. “Only way out is down,” He unexpectedly said when Pinkie saw him walking back and forth with his hands clasped to the wall while repeating his chant religiously.
Walking closer, Pinkie saw that there were words written in blood on the wall.
Down The Drain.
Father Martin had used the blood of a nearby security guard. Not that Pinkie was disgusted.
Jumping down the drain, she landed silently on her feet with her camcorder and knife ready. Glancing around furiously to see if there was anyone there but found no one.
When she calmed down, she saw there was a door that was slightly ajar and made her way over and opened it only to reveal an area that resembled a holding cell. There were maybe one or two variants inside who didn’t cause much noise but did look at her curiously.
She sighed. Turning around she made her way over to the other side, knowing that she would have to fight someone.
Author's Note
Hello guys, I hope that you enjoyed this chapter.
This one was slightly shorter than the other ones but that was because I found the perfect stopping point before I continue with the other upcoming chapters that will come in the future. So here, Pinkie thinks a little bit about her past while feeling pure rage from what Murkoff has done to her and the other variants which isn’t surprising as some of them lost more than others.
I also wanted her to be more sympathetic to the other variants so she doesn’t come off as ice cold, not caring about anything or anyone. I want her to have some emotions that would make her more ‘human’ than I've made her out to be.
Anyways, that was all from me, enjoy your upcoming week!
