As he was woken up, Captain Chaser blinked several times while the light above his cot flashed on and struck his eyes.
“Captain, its precisely 4:20 am. Your shift begins in 10 minutes.” A subordinate guard informed him.
“Oh, thank you. I’ll grab my helmet and report to High Security.” Chaser told his fellow guard and rubbed his eyes with his hoof.
The other guard nodded and went off towards the mess station.
Chaser yawned once and shook his head, following up by a deep inhalation and a push out of bed.
The halls of the Asylum were old, and while dust never ravaged them for long, the scars of time and evil deeds could never be washed from the soul of the facility. When he first transferred to the Asylum, he was unaware that a good portion of the facility was actually built into underground pockets and tunnels that served as a secret network in and out of the fortress when Luna’s Guards occupied it. A few of the most tame patients and inmates were kept in their last few months or weeks inside the mansion facility that was on level ground, but the cases that were due to stay for a period of longer than 8 weeks or so were sent down below, into the waiting arms of Dr. Mindkeeper and the rest of the medical and security staff.
The High Security Ward, however, was a floor below the normal underground institution, making escape more difficult and isolation a colder, tougher, reality. Yet, those who managed to get themselves sent down to the second sub-level were rarely ones to care about isolation or escape. They tended to exist to be mad, with no purpose other than inhabiting the cells, and living in worlds of total insanity, as opposed to the worlds of mild delusion the others in the floor above lived in. And of course, the Queen of these insane worlds devoid of logic, safety, and care, was Twilight Sparkle, the source of the violent anger and enraged atmosphere of the Asylum. It took Chaser a little while to figure out that, as the oldest, longest committed patient, and unquestionably the most feared without and within the institution, Twilight’s mood, her anger, her confusion, her blood lust, her very emotion, set the tone of the entire facility and had an uncanny effect on the rest of the patient population. From within the pits of the mental hospital, she influenced everything that happened in some way, hidden or clear, all while eliciting no response or an ineffective one from the staff. But what could they do? Captain Chains was never able to get to her, and Dr. Mindkeeper’s best staff worked her case year-round, but they could never grasp a solution to the ever-present scorn of the Asylum.
He descended in the same lift that sent the screaming, armless pony down yesterday. He saw the common grounds filled with a, more or less, lake of ponies, who whipped their heads around like mad dogs, flew or ran in mad dashes, circles, or into walls, chewed on their own limbs, or cuddled into balls and lay motionless in the corners. From the cement balcony above the common ground, the guards on duty kept their eyes moving to another patient every 10 seconds or so, never stopping their gaze for longer unless a situation arose that garnered their response.
As he drew nearer to the bottom of the first sub-level the noises of the deranged ponies became louder, more intimidating, and perhaps more seductive than they had been. He doubted others would describe such things as seductive, but he often thought himself an outcast in regards to hobbies…frankly because he was one.
The second sub-floor was much darker, with fewer lights hanging in the corridor and much less noise erupting through the floor. ‘Only the most broken are sent here’ was a clear sentiment. The lift crept to a halt and stayed as silent as the walls while Captain Chaser got off and stepped off towards the hall door. It seemed much less intense with Captain Chains, but he was at the same time drawn to it. He wasn’t entirely sure that a mad pony with an axe wasn’t waiting for him in the shadows nearby, ready to chop off his head, but his sense of duty wasn’t his only motivation for moving further in.
Upon exiting the lift corridor, Chaser took a left turn, heading upstairs, towards the guard station where he could look into the monitors with his unicorn magic. The right path would lead directly into the hall with all the high security cells, and in the far left corner was Twilight’s.
He entered and relieved Sgt. Rock from duty, who was monitoring the hall and looking into each of the monitors. Most of the ponies down here were sitting still or silently, gently rocking back and forth on the ground. A few whispered random or delusional phrases, or poetic codes that only those walking through madness could interpret.
Looking intently and oh so satisfyingly into the monitor of Twilight’s cell, he saw a silhouette, eyes closed and mouth frozen. The straight jacket that hugged her figure seemed molded into her very being. Her horn, magically sealed away from its power every couple days, stood out and created a shadow from the dim light that entered her cell, forming a single spiked figure of shadow on the opposite wall.
He wasn’t really sure how long he watched her, sitting silently, alone, in her cell. Had it been a sane pony doing the same, Chaser would have thought he or she was in a spiritual trance. He forced himself to watch the other patients periodically, but his gaze remained largely set on the monitor that observed Twilight, even though she hadn’t moved a muscle in a long time, and seemingly would not do so at any time soon.
He spoke with another guard when he entered around an hour after Chaser started his shift, and took the form he was handed, signing it and filling out a minor report about the conditions of the High Security Wing. After this, he was left alone again, and watched the most-unstable ponies once more, letting his imagination and his own personal thoughts run wild in his own mind.
Suddenly, a loud noise made him jump from his post and fall to his back in surprise. He immediately got up and checked the monitors as he saw Twilight with eyes wide open and deranged, laughing manically.
“PINKIE! You’re sO FUNNY!” She shouted loudly and laughed wildly once more, somehow synchronizing the sharp jabs of genuine amusement with the rapid heartbeat of Chaser as he watched her in the monitor.
“What was that Applejack,” Twilight asked an imaginary figure to her left as she turned her head so that her face was horizontal as she asked, “I couldn’t understand you over Rarity’s nice, talking dress! What a LOUD MOUTH! I take offense to that remark! I AM NOT A STUCK UP PRINCESS! HoW DARE YOU ADDRESS mE SO?!” She went on as she made a quasi-march towards the door of her cell, though it looked more like the wobbly dance of a filly to Chaser.
Chaser sat in a daze as he watched Twilight have her moment of pure blown insanity while the other patients gave Twilight the respect she wanted, in their books deserved, and needed.
“Fluttershy! I’ve been LOOKING everywhEre for you! I wanted to tell you…RAINBOW DASH SQUASHED Angel!” Twilight went on and got closer to the monitor spell that Chaser was using to view her unexpected moment.
Finally, Twilight jerked her head so that only one of her eyes was looking directly into the camera, and spoke once again:
“And YOU! Are you…enjoying this? ArE you having fUN?” She asked and fell on her back, laughing wildly and without any control, leaving Chaser to question if she was consciously speaking to him or not.
He watched her laugh and roll around, and eventually, wet herself due to the absolute humor she perceived, but Chaser watched in intimidation while the impactful laugh spread around the underground cellblock. For the first time since arriving at the asylum he had been intimidated. He always knew that Twilight Sparkle was unstable, dangerous, and most of all, terror inducing, but the last aspect he had never felt, at least not since he was much younger, and now, the feeling stung him like a swift manticore attack, causing his body to involuntarily shake and tremble; sadly, he still had no true idea of the depth of the power of presence.
He found the strength to put his helmet back on when Twilight’s laughing turned into a deep inhaling noise, like she was panting from having run a 100-mile race. She just lay there. No wild motion. No crazy words. All she did was inhale deeply and then exhale on the floor of her cell.
Chaser settled himself as the other sub-level 2 patients began to moan and move around freely again.
“Here Cheesy! Here boy!” An insane Pegasus mare called out and slammed against her cell door with as much force as she could muster many times before calling her missing pet once more.
“Help! Help! HELP!! It BURNS!” A stallion cried out and sobbed from his own cell, rolling around and flopping wildly within the confines of the fiery cell his eyes envisioned around him.
“Oh yesss! Oh baby!” A unicorn mare from down front panted out as she smothered herself into the ground and cried out in ecstasy.
Chaser saw the patients come alive before his eyes and journey through the vast worlds of insanity that they were living through, each one unique, and yet every one uniform in certain aspects. He wanted to go down and inspect them closer, but his gut told him that that might well be a careless move, and he certainly had no intentions of dying. He watched them through the monitor, he saw them search for pets, burn in fires, and make love to ponies that did not exist, among other crazy acts. The weight of the job sank on Chaser’s shoulders and his imagination was temporarily chained as he saw the craziest of crazies do what they pleased while their Queen merely inhaled deeply every couple seconds on the ground.
He didn’t know exactly how long he stared at them all, nor how long afterwards he spent writing down his own thoughts into a small note pad, trying desperately to save the inspirations before they vanished from within the cell block of his mind. The Asylum was beginning to infect him already, and he loved it. It was morbid, sick, and maybe unjustified, but he loved it all: the insane delusions that haunted his thoughts and the lives of the patients, the moaning orgasm of mental disease as it wormed its way through Chaser’s eyes while ravaging the lives of the patients. He loved it all, as much as he would hate to admit to anypony.
He gazed out at the patients every so often so as to both fulfill his duty and take in even more of the forbidden inspiration and wonder that he fixated on. He continued to scribble down notes and noted mentally to add these notes to his regular journal. His studies had begun, and he couldn’t be more thrilled. The act of uncovering the dark secrets of the Asylum came at a cost, and seeing things that he did earlier made an impact on him, a deep one. Still, the worth of it far outweighed the effects of watching Twilight and the others succumb to their madness.
To his surprise, when he next looked into the monitors, Twilight was smiling wide and crazily, looking past his eyes and into his heart. He had no idea how long she had been doing so, nor did he know why, but it stirred up more inspiration in his mind…only her stare kept him fixated, and he could not make himself write his inspirations down. Meanwhile, all she did was sit and stare. Never once did she blink. Never once did she waver. Never once did he take his eyes off it.
…
Chaser’s shift ended not too long after his “study session” ended, and he made his way up to the barracks to add the notes before heading out to the mess hall in the main floor of the facility.
He was found by Captain Chains, who forced Chaser to sit by him.
“How did you fare?” Chains inquired as he took a large and fierce bite from a muffin.
“Well, I think. I certainly saw the worst of the patients down there, but I was able to keep my head, so to say.”
“Worst? If they didn’t do more than moan about and cause a bit of noise, then you haven’t seen their worst…trust me.”
“Noted, sir.” Chaser responded quickly, and with a small, almost unnoticeable smile of such a prospect.
As much as the work of the Asylum interested him, he was turned off twice as much by the food. He couldn’t understand what was wrong with it, but his tomato soup was way off. He didn’t seem to mind his first couple meals at the Institution, but this one was simply awful. Then the thought occurred to him that he might not be eating tomato soup at all.
No. It couldn’t be blood. That was too unreal, even in such a place as the Asylum. It…it didn’t taste all too metallic. But… a slight hint of iron was unmistakably present. He put his spoon down, closed his eyes tightly, and moved the bowl away, trying to figure out what could have gone wrong with his soup. Captain Chaser didn’t seem to mind his bowl. Nor did any of the other guards. They were delighted with it. One of the messier ones was slurping it down like it was water.
Just then, Twilight’s mad laughter could be heard as she was moved down the corridor by a team of guards and two nurses.
“That witch has another session with Dr. Mindkeeper…” Captain Chains noted, mostly to himself and in annoyance at that prospect, and shook his head.
Chains sipped another spoonful of soup then noticed Chaser had not been eating his; even now the young captain looked troubled while staring at it.
“A fly take a swim in it?” Chains asked in a rare show of slight humor.
“Hm? Oh, no sir, I’ve just…just lost my appetite, that’s all,” Chaser replied.
“Well, you don’t have duty until tomorrow morning, so just make sure you’re ready to go by then.” Chains ordered and took his bowl away after he had swallowed the last spoonful.
Chaser continued to sit and stare, bringing another spoonful near his mouth to smell. Even that was a bit much and immediately plopped the spoon back into the bowl with a small red splash. Needless to say he left his meal unfinished.
…
Going back into his journal seemed more hollow than it should have after the experience in the mess hall. He was beginning to understand the tragedy of the Asylum. The basic necessities of life were tainted in this foul institution, and the effects on those who tried to work through the adversity were deeper than anypony could imagine. He wondered if his soup was truly made with blood, and if he was the only one turned away because he was new. If the staff actually did eat blood soup frequently, then he had thoroughly underestimated the Asylum. Warden Gates' comment at the end of their meeting: "Welcome to the Mad House," went through his head.
At a distance, it didn’t seem like such a horrible place at all. It was almost like a dream world; nothing here would ever touch the average stallions and mares spread across Equestria, and he was free to enjoy it at his leisure; or so he thought. He faced a big juxtaposition. He now better understood the haunting experience of working at the Asylum, but he was still enchanted with the wonder of a crazed pony like Twilight Sparkle. He still wanted to meet her, and in time, he told himself he would. No doubt about it, he was still drawn by it all, but now the very things that drew him were starting repel another side of him away entirely.
After several wasted hours sitting on his bunk, Chaser went for a nighttime stroll around the Asylum. He figured he was imagining things, and that these kinds of minor mental breakdowns happened more or less frequently to new guards here. Yeah, that had to be it. No doubt about it. No doubt…at all. The night air would do him good and the chance to get away from the confined and restrained smell of the institution would do him even better.
He stood on the edge of Asylum boundary, near the mountain’s edge to the West. Flowers grew in the North, and in the night their brilliant blues and pinks and greens became a bit shallow, but they retained a fragrant beauty that could not be extinguished. Here in the West, the darkness of the mountain edge was only enhanced, and the ominous feelings one inherited around the Asylum were not changed.
However, they were a good kind of ominous, a refreshing kind, at least to Chaser. He felt alive again. He was feeling more confident as he stood in a plane of unique joy. He was near the mystery and madness of the Asylum, but at the same time he was free from it all, free to breath in the open air and feel the night breeze. Away from inspiration, but away from negative effects and consequences of inspiration simultaneously. The “soup scandal” was behind him, and he was beginning to open up to the splendor that flowed naturally about the institution. It once more felt new and right in his eyes, and in his nose, and in his heart and in his mind as well. His anxious mindset was beginning to calm itself and he was ready to head back to his bunk and turn in when the power in the Asylum suddenly died out.
He ran in and found the receptionist and a couple guards looking around the entrance with flashlights.
“What happened?” Chaser asked one of the guards.
“We’re not sure, sir. I was speaking with Captain Chains over the intercom, and he mentioned that he was waiting longer than normal for his shift forms, but other than that, nothing seemed to be amiss. At least nopony has reported anything of the sort,” The first guard explained and his attention was taken by the other guard, who motioned for the two to go down the hall.
Chaser asked the receptionist if she had heard anything strange, but she hadn’t either.
He was then drawn to the East Wing when a muffled sound rang from that area. The receptionist gave him one of her spare flashlights and he began his silent exploration. The air conditioning was off now, and the surprising heat of the mansion ever so slightly burned his body, almost like a sick tickling, as he crept along the dark corridor. Many paintings of inmates stared him down while a few drops of sweat fell from his forehead and he followed his instincts around the mansion’s halls and rooms.
His breathing got heavier and more frequent as he checked the many rooms that were devoid of life. He had a (secret, but still genuine) fetish for the mystery of madness and a bit for mysteries in general, but the slasher-horror genre was not his favorite. He found himself with a similar feeling as when he headed down into extreme isolation for his first shift, when an axe-wielding pony could have sprang out at any time, but he knew then that things were proceeding as normal. Given the current situation, it was quite plausible that several patients had escaped, and he had seen a few axes, for fire emergency purposes, in the Asylum halls.
Despite the growing heat he felt a shiver run down his spine as he suddenly threw open a door. The room wasn’t used for anything except storage, as far as Chaser could tell. Many boxed, all draped in sheets, sat in the darkness. Dust floated around in the air as Chaser took a step in and threw around the light of his tool. He looked in a moment longer and tried to figure out what the room was before it was condemned to storage but could not. He slowly shut the door and walked away, figuring that nopony could be in there, seeing as anypony that had escaped, if anypony did in fact escape, would be crazy, and therefore would not hide silently and wait for him to leave. At least that was his hope about the patient populous of the Asylum. He realized that it felt like ages since the power went off, when it had actually been less than half of one. He managed to check out a decent amount of rooms when he finally found a locked door, and it wasn’t supposed to be locked.
He inhaled as deeply but silently as he could and brought out his key ring. The room served as a back up therapy room when the mansion floor was a bit crowded, and it was to stay unlocked unless in use. He was quite sure nopony was using it…at least not for the purposes it was designed for.
He unlocked the door with a click and his heart raced as he waited for something or somepony to come and pounce on him or jump up out at him, but nothing came.
The door was silent, which would be a good thing, wouldn’t it? For Chaser, it seemed a bit too silent. His hoof stopped dead and turned cold when he put it down into a small pool. To be precise, a small pool of blood. He turned the flashlight off before entering for fear of alerting anypony inside, but he quickly turned it on again after stepping into the blood. He was greatly alarmed to find a small trail, small, blotched patterns of deep red, sprawled across the floor. There was another door at the end of the room; it was supposed to lead out into another corridor, and to Chaser’s immense fortune, the trail led out into that corridor, behind the closed door.
He calmed himself down enough to try and figure out where the trail began, following the other end to a nearby cabinet. He knew something horrible was waiting inside, and he quickly opened it up and jumped back as a corpse fell down onto the ground, a larger pool of blood forming underneath her. The mare that had been murdered and stashed away used to be a nurse, but her dead body was not the most disturbing thing in the room. Across the back of the cabinet was drawn out in the mare’s blood a deranged smiley face.
He wanted to report this in, find somepony and get help, and most of all, get out of this horrifying room, but nopony was there to go or report to. He was alone, and the duty was his to make sure the Asylum went back to normal operating conditions as soon as possible. Inhaling deeply, he continued on.
He traced the blood out into the other corridor and followed the trail of splotches and small pools as they lead him upstairs. He bit his lip as the trail went up to the third floor. Nurses weren’t supposed to go where patients were not, with certain obvious exceptions such as the staff mess hall and lounge, and the third floor held none such locations of exception. Thunder and lightning struck outside as the rain that was well expected every night of the week began to pour again. Chaser soon found himself out on the roof and the trail of blood ended with another dead body. This time it was a female guard.
Chaser looked around the roof and spotted a pony standing alone, enveloped in shadows and looking down at the corpse.
Chaser remained silent while the pony slowly fixed its gaze upon him. It took several steps forward, and came into the light.
Chaser wanted to speak up, but Twilight’s maniacal grin forced him to exhale sharply and regain his composure.
‘Her mere presence is enough to make me lose my willpower…amazing…no…not just amazing…magnificent!’ Chaser thought to himself while his body shook and his lip quivered; his eyes, however, his eyes held an emotion of desire that Twilight couldn’t miss, and capitalized on.
“You. You are the new guard…” Twilight stated.
“…Yes, yes I am,” Chaser responded after a small moment of hesitation.
“It was you. It was you that was watching me earlier. Studying me. Reading me…like a BOOK!” Twilight again stated more like she was reading through a pamphlet and drawing conclusions rather than having an actual conversation with Chaser.
Chaser nodded in agreement and let Twilight speak again.
“You’re different from other guards. For one thing…I don’t want to KILL you as much. You waaaant me. You find me seductive. You’re drawn to me in a way nopony else would understand…except for me,” Twilight commented and analyzed with a tone that seemed familiar and natural to her, yet twisted and poisoned all at the same time.
“I won’t deny it. I do find you attractive…in a certain sense,” Chaser admitted and closed his eyes as Twilight walked around him smiling.
“And that’s why you’ll soon see,” She said as she gently rubbed the back of his neck with her hooves.
“See what?” He asked her as she threw down a bloodied scalpel with a loud CLANG!
“You’ll see that you want more than just to work here. You’ll want to be with us…to become one of us.” Twilight teased as she activated her magic, casting a light that created a purple glow on both of their faces as they stared eye to eye.
“Become one of you…you mean become a patient?” Chaser questioned, taking a small step backwards.
“Why not? You enjoy looking at us, watching us live out our lives, so why not live that life for yourself?” She replied and went back over to the dead guard.
“Because I’m not crazy…I find a joy in you…and maybe I shouldn’t but I do, but even still, that’s no reason to be put into an institution,” Chaser told her.
“Its only natural for such things to happen. Don’t most ponies that enjoy protecting others become guards like yourself…or this poor, unfortunate mare here?” Twilight inquired as she used her magic to raise the corpse and fling it in front of Chaser’s feet.
Chaser stumbled back a few steps and looked for Twilight, but she teleported behind him.
“What do you want with me? Why did you lead me here?” Chaser asked.
“I thought maybe you’d enjoy some one on one time with me. Don’t you have a burning desire to do just that? Are you ENJOYING yourself now as much as you were earlier?” She questioned and licked the side of his face as she moved in front of him, trampling the corpse in the process.
“…” Chaser tried to speak several times but could not.
“So anyways,” Twilight wrapped up their meeting, “I’ve got to get going. Captain Chains will find us in a matter of seconds. But let me say this Ghost Chaser…when you’re ready to join us, when you’re ready to take your place here, your Queen will await you with open hooves and a LOVING SMILE."
With that, she vanished in a flash of purple light and left Chaser alone on the roof just as Captain Chains and several other guards arrived.
“Chaser! What happened?” His superior asked.
“I found this body…and another one, down in one of the secondary therapy rooms,” Chaser explained and turned to face Captain Chains, showing his commander the obvious doubt and slight fear Twilight planted within him.
“I think you’ve tasted a bit of the Asylum’s worse, tonight. We’ve secured the facility and power will be back up momentarily. I’ll talk with you later, right now, you should go get some rest.” Chains ordered and went over to the corpse with the other guards, leaving Chaser to walk silently down the stairs and towards his bunk so very far away.
…
Chaser’s dreams were haunted that night. He could hear nothing save Twilight’s words and see nothing save the dead body and Twilight’s sick smile. Just as he had found the confidence to continue his work at the Asylum, doubts were placed in his head as to whether or not he should be working at the Asylum…or be committed inside of it. He wasn’t crazy, he knew that. He didn’t want to live like the patients. But he was drawn to them, and Twilight no doubt had more influence on him simply because of her position. He was pondering her words like a prophesy that would damn him to purgatory, and no matter how much he thought of her offer as ridiculous, it was plain that she was affecting him and that he was not prepared for her worst. He loved the Asylum, but now he feared it too. Twilight held mystery and forbidden pleasure in many aspects, but now she held dread and fear in him as well. He shuddered in the cold as he was once again woken up for his shift.