//------------------------------// // (The: According to Fluttershy.) // Story: Interviewing Mr. Disc // by CrackedInkWell //------------------------------// Why do these hospitals have to be creepy? There’s really no reason to be like this, it’s like I’m entering one of those horror/survival games that Rainbow and Applejack would play. The fact that this place is empty and so quiet doesn’t really help much. “H-Hello?” I call out, well, not exactly called out but more whispered. Yet even my whisper and my footsteps echo in this endless hallway. Turning my head around, my line looked like it stretched to back for miles. How long have I- “NO!” the sudden shout made me jump a good deal, which I found it was coming to my left. I saw about twenty feet away down a short hallway Mr. Disc in a straightjacket with two very imitating looking men in white dragging him while being followed by a doctor with a clipboard. “NOT THAT! ANYTHING BUT THAT! NO! PLEASE!” Disc screamed out of fright as he was being pulled out of sight. Feeling concerned, I ran over, peaking around the corner in time to see him taken through a pair of white doors, in which above them was a brass sign that read: “Therapy.” Even with the doors closed, Mr. Disc’s screams still penetrated through the doors. “NO! NO! DON’T! STOP!” What on earth were they doing to him? I never heard him begged like this before. “HELP! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!” I couldn’t take this anymore, I came out of my hiding place and opened the double doors, only to find Mr. Disc’s classroom. To my complete confusion, there wasn’t anything awful that I’d expected like him being strapped down to a medical table. Instead, I saw that the double doors opened up to the back of Mr. Disc’s classroom. “Good morning class,” he said, standing up from his desk, “Welcome to Art, My name is Mr. Disc, or you could call me Mr. D, and this is my first time teaching. And since this is my first time teaching, don’t expect that your syllabus that outlines the rules would remain permanent. In other words, everyone here is a test rat for what will work and what doesn’t in this class.” As he was talking to the class, he took no notice that I entered his classroom as if I were invisible. The first thing that I looked for is the calendar that is usually hung by his desk, to my surprise; it was from almost twenty years ago. “Hey, Mr. D,” somebody asked, I looked over to find a student with his hand up… and has a shovel for a head. “Your syllabus didn’t say anything about homework, does that me we don’t have to do any?” Looking back to Mr. Disc, he blinked for a moment, “As of now, no,” he answered as he reached into his pocket, “Unless you really need to learn something, do some catchup, or misbehave; no one will get homework from my class.” He pulled out of his pocket the orange bottle of pills. Before I left, I glance over the classroom to find that the entire student’s heads were replaced with gardening tools. I exited the classroom through the door that usually leads to the school’s hallways, but instead, it opened up to a darkened hallway that looked like it was from somebody’s home. It was rather hard to see. Then I felt my shoe bump into something solid, reaching down, I felt a glass bottle. I admit, I was rather confused at first, did Mr. Disc drink? But that thought was dashed when a door creaked open to find a kid there in his pajamas, “Psst! Get in here,” he waved me in frantic, “Quickly, before mom sees ya.” Complying, I entered through the door to find myself in a child’s bedroom. The walls and some of the floor were covered in drawings in pencil, pen, and crayons. There were toys too from Slinkys to Lincoln Logs that were in piles. The child that closed the door behind us took me a moment to figure out who it was. It was Mr. Disc as a child! “You should be quiet,” he said, “Mom isn’t well, and you shouldn’t be out there.” “Why? Is something wrong?” I asked. “Um… Not really, it’s just that she said she’s feeling down again, so she’s taking something to make her feel better. But if she takes too much, well…” he trailed off, but shook his head. “I guess that doesn’t matter now… Are you real?” This question caught me completely by surprise, “What do you mean?” “I mean, are you really here, or are you not? Mom says that my imagination tends to act upon its own you know.” He went over to pick up one of the Slinkys, “Just watch, you’ll know what I mean.” He dropped the coiled spring, but it didn’t hit the ground, instead, it hovered there for a moment before it started to move through the air, something like a snake. “You’re seeing this right?” he asked and I nodded, “I swear, I’m not doing this at all! It always happens when I pretend, weird stuff like this happens.” The Slinky was now draped around the fan on the ceiling. “JULIUS!” The room shook with the shriek of a woman's voice so harsh, that I can compare it someone scratching nails to a chalkboard. “Have you haven’t practiced your piano, have you?!” “Oh no,” he said meekly before the sounds of stone heavy footsteps shook the room. “Quick! The toy chest!” He rushed over and opened the box at the foot of his bed, “Come on!” “Julius!” the sound of glass breaking and that shattering voice was more than enough for me to forget logic and jump right into the toy box. There I found not a box that was filled with toys, but a flight of stairs that lead downward. “Aren’t you coming?” I asked him. “I’ll be fine,” he told me, “Just get out of here while you still can,” and with that, he slammed the lid on me. The situation was making me so uncomfortable that I did as he said and just rushed downwards. At the foot of the stairs, I found myself in a room where everything except the floor, some of the walls and a door on the other side of the stairs, has been burnt. The only source of light in the room was a nightlight that outlined the scorched room in a lightless void. I remember how quiet everything became when I walked on that wooden floor. “Hello?” I said, and my voice echoed. What happens here? Why isn’t the floor burnt like the walls and ceiling? Was it always like this? And why is that door left untouched? I went over to open the door to find myself in Mr. Disc’s house, or at least, in his living room. There on the couch was another Mr. Disc sitting on the couch, he turned his head to me and even jumped up as I entered the room to close the door behind me. “Wait!” he cried, “Don’t close that-” the door behind me was shut, “…. Door.” “Um, are you the other Mr. Disc?” I asked him. He sighed, “Yes, hello to you too, other Fluttershy. I would be more than happy to see you if it wasn’t for the fact that we’re now trapped here for all eternity.” I blinked, “Pardon?” “See for yourself,” he said gesturing to the door I came in. Curious, I opened the door to step out, only to find myself to be walking into the kitchen; I turned around to find the living room, as well as myself at the back door. For a while, I tried everything I could think of to get out of the house, when I tried the window, I fall out another window but only to fall right back into the living room. When I tried going under the couch, I fell into the fireplace. When I tried getting out by the Dishwasher in the kitchen, I came out of the pantry. “You see,” the other Discord said, “We’re stuck.” “Oh dear,” I said, whipping the dust off of me, “I'd hope that the others would be able to find us eventually.” “Someone’s looking for us in this maze?” “Uh-huh, and I think they’ll be able to find us here.” “Well, while we wait,” he reached into his sleeves and pulled out a board game. “How are you at Monopony?”