A Visit To The Hospital
The early morning sun pierced through a crack in the library’s window, illuminating motes of dust that floated across the stale air.
As the light set upon the stallion, he stirred awake. A prevailing silence filled his senses. Even in his drowsy state, he was aware of the small filly cuddled close to him. He shuffled out of the blanket slowly, hoping not to disturb the young pony so he could get ready to move out in peace.
His efforts were for naught, however, as Twist stirred and opened her light fuchsia eyes. “Good morning,” she said with a yawn, feeling around for her large purple glasses that had fallen off during the night.
The stallion just gave a noncommittal grunt in return before sliding the filly’s glasses into her hoof. He carefully inspected his bags before casting one last glance about the library. After a quick nod, he grabbed the blanket and carefully folded it before stuffing it into his bags, leaving the hazmat-suit clad filly to shiver slightly in the chill of morning.
An imperceptible arch formed upon his back as he donned the sacks. Stepping lightly towards the entrance still blocked by a bookshelf, he perked his ears. Not a sound could be heard through the wooden walls.
It was safe to move, for now.
He grunted as he threw his weight against the makeshift barricade, the low grinding of wood scraping against wood filling the room. Superior strength soon found the doorway clear and the stallion turned back to the filly. “Follow closely, and don’t make a sound,” he said as she stood and shook the tiredness from her body. The sudden call to action seemed to unnerve Twist, but she did as told without question.
Or so he thought. As soon as he began to open the door, the filly opened her mouth. “How’re we going to get there?”
With a sigh that pushed the breathing aparatus of his mask out, he latched the door shut silently. “By staying in the open so we have escape routes available. Just stay close; you’ll be fine.” He paused as he waited for Twist to say something else, but she merely nodded and gave him a timid smile, her cheeks puffing out. He opened the door again, forcing it on the busted hinges and cringing slightly as it creaked on the last few inches.
“What about the crathy pony?”
The stallion’s head turned sharply and he glared at the filly. She scooted back and meekly nodded again. Returning the nod, he looked forward and took his first determined step outside.
Silence. Not a sound could be heard but for his hooves upon the dirt, He glanced back, checking that the filly was following closely, before heading towards the hospital on the outskirts of town.. A door screeched shut behind him before he could take more than two steps. Again, he looked back at the filly.
Twist was facing the library door and lowering her hoof from the door knob. When she turned around, she was met with the stallion’s irritated frown. She gave a small smile and opened her mouth.
The stallion quickly shushed her and shook his head. He waved her over and continued on, if only just to keep her silent.
Everything was still. Their soft steps seemed to echo against the buildings on either side of the road as if the town was truly abandoned. The stallion’s gaze constantly shifted, never looking at one thing longer than a few seconds. They were forty meters from their starting point when the local joke shop came into view, it’s facade covered in decorative colors faded over time. Quietude filled the air as they reached its front..
A breeze ruffled their clothes.
They tensed, the stallion darting his eyes this way and that, scanning for the wind’s source as Twist shuffled behind him and clutched his jacket in trembling hooves. There were no dark clouds in the sky, nor on the horizon. Nopony was around. Nothing indicated that there was a threat. Then, Twist giggled, small shakes moving throughout her body while she held a hoof to her muzzle.
“Wath jutht a breeth,” she said, relieved, as she stepped back from the stallion. His gaze swept across the road once more before relaxing a bit. He continued onwards.
They didn’t get far before she spoke up again. “Why are we going to the hothpital?”
He didn’t respond at first, keeping his attention on the cobblestone street and surrounding buildings. His gaze shifted occasionally from busted windows and doors to the odd food stand, its produce rotten, or piece of trash in the streets. “Answers,” he said at a crossroads without looking back. “Now hush; we’re halfway there.”
Mad laughter could be heard down the road to the left, but it sounded distant. Conveniently enough, though, their path led them down the opposite road. That didn’t stop the stallion from being on his guard, and he would occasionally glance back as he walked forward.
“What’th at the hothpital?” Twist asked in a hushed tone.
“More questions, most likely.”
More houses and shops came up, these being in slightly better condition than those in the previous street. Instead of decaying doors on rusted hinges, these were firmly shut. Though a few windows were smashed here and there, the majority of them were intact. Even more unsettling was the general cleanliness of the streets here.
The stallion’s suspicions were high as they passed the structures. The edge of the clustered buildings were coming up and they could see the hospital in the distance. A loud bang of wood on plaster rang out in the streets, making the ponies tense once more.
The stallion whirled around and looked for the source, the filly once again huddling next to him. At first, nothing seemed to have changed. The streets were just as empty and no other sounds were heard. He inspected the area closer.
A door to one of the buildings was open where it wasn’t before, swinging slightly on its hinges. He began to take slow steps back while keeping an eye out. “Move, quickly,” he hissed before turning about and stepping into a trot, reaching the end of the narrow street in seconds.
As they exited the main part of town, the stallion cast one last furtive glance back and sighed. He turned forward and looked Twist over, inspecting her hazmat suit and missing helmet. “We need to get you another suit,” he said as he searched the semi-open plains. He paused and shook his head, vaguely wondering why he was thinking of the filly’s safety.
An overturned cart with a medical symbol on it was close, but not close enough to make it a simple detour. While their destination was a few hundred yards away up a hill, the wagon skirted the edges of the major business sector. A worried frown crossed his lips as he divided his attention between the hospital, the town, and the cart.
Twist twisted about, scanning for damage to her clothing before realization dawned on her face. “Oh! The helmet! Yeth, pleath!” she said just a bit too loudly with a smile, forgetting the bleak situation for the moment at the prospect of a new hood. The stallion quickly shushed her. Looking back through furrowed brows, the stallion scanned the land behind him.
Nothing moved; it was too quiet. He waved after the filly and trotted closer to the carriage, constantly looking towards the town’s border and back to the hospital that began to get further away.
The cart had been abandoned. Whoever was pulling it must have chosen to save themselves at the last minute and ran; no body was attached to its harness. They reached the downed cargo without incident and he waded through the refuse, throwing random boxes away as he looked for a helmet to fit the filly. Occasionally, he would perk up and check their surroundings.
After a moment, a new glass-faced hood was tossed Twist’s way. Her hooves kept slipping on it and she seemed to be juggling before finally catching it, just as the stallion stepped out. He looked between the helmet and the filly, whose face was slightly red, with an arched eyebrow hidden beneath his hood.
“Put it on and hurry up,” he said after a moment and began heading towards the medical facility once more.
Twist quickly placed the helmet on her head and it hissed as it made a new seal. She ran after the stallion and trotted beside him, legs moving slightly faster to keep pace. “Thankth again, mithter.”
He grunted an acknowledgement.
Another sound, though quiet, rang out from the town: that of a window shattering, its shards tinkling upon the cold hard cobblestone streets. He slowed to a halt, Twist quietly following his lead as he glanced towards the nearby town.
The business district was closest, filled with the still-gaudy buildings displaying their wares. His eyes scanned through the alleyways and ruts, looking for movement. On the main road that bisected the town, a single stray cup bounced across the path, carried by a strong gust of wind. As it reached a corner, the cup suddenly changed direction, turning at a square angle.
He furrowed his brow and took two steps back before turning towards his destination. Twist tilted her head in confusion at the phenomenon, but began running after the stallion’s quickened pace, trying hard to keep up.
The hospital rose imposingly towards the sky before them. The awning above the building’s smashed double-door entrance was speckled with rust and hanging on by just one cable, the other having snapped long ago. Only the one wire and the skilled craftsponyship of the builders were keeping it aloft. The beige paint was flaking off the exterior walls while the occasional window was shattered. Another gust of wind blew by them.
Hurried steps met tile as the stallion rushed in passed the doorway, quickly looking around before waving the filly towards him. He turned about as soon as she entered and pushed against the bent metal doors, watching as they creaked and inched closed under bent hinges. As soon as he forced the sister door shut, he took a moment to scan the building’s interior further.
A bi-level desk for checking in patients and guests sat in front of him, covered in a mess of papers and set like an end cap to the two parallel hallways running through the hospital’s first floor. Directly above it, written over the hospital’s name, were words written in a viscous red liquid. The letters, ranging from a shaky font to elongated smears, spelt ‘Bad is good. Find salvation in madness’. Twist once again tried to hide behind him, seeing the words as well.
Cast aside food and medical carts were haphazardly placed against the interior walls of either hallway. Gouges in the walls mixed with scuff marks upon the tile floor hinted at a large fight while a scalpel, stained with blood, was stabbed into the wall next to a displaced gurney.
On the furthest wall to the left was a small gift shop. Trinkets and baubles lined its many shelves as even more blood could be seen sprayed across its large glass storefront. Looking closer, the stallion could make out the words ‘Beware the wind’ within the stains.
The wall to the right held a large picture of the building’s layout and medical services, surprisingly undamaged or marked in any way. Upon studying the map, the stallion identified the hospital’s various sections. The pharmacy was in the middle of the hospital, conveniently on the first floor, with a general illness office and waiting room surrounding it. The floors above ranged between offices and patient rooms for specialized treatment.
“What now?” Twist asked as she surveyed the room apprehensively.
“I look for a log, or anything that will tell me what happened here,” the stallion said as he stepped up to the front desk. Papers were scattered about while office supplies were haphazardly placed upon them with no order. As he shuffled through it all, he came across a check-in log. He grabbed and opened it, skimming until he reached a more recent date.
Spring, 1st of new quarter:
Four ponies sent to Pony General Ward, complaints ranging from sore limbs to the common nosebleed.
9:25 AM: Apple Cobbler sent to level 2, Pediatric Ward
12:43 PM: Caramel sent to level 3, Psych Ward
4:22 PM: The Cakes sent to level 2, Pediatric Ward
Note: Pretty easy day. Surprised at the small number of injuries considering what happened last year during Winter Wrap Up.
Spring, 2nd of new quarter:
Eight ponies sent to Pony General Ward, most common complaint: a feeling of malaise.
8:00 AM: Filthy Rich sent to level 4, Administrator’s Office
11:00 AM: Large shipment of supplies signed in
12:12 PM: Bon Bon sent to level 3, Psych Ward
2:32 PM: Breezy sent to level 2, Radiology Ward
7:23 PM: Burnt Oak sent to level 4, Burn Ward
Note: Had a meeting today while the supplies came in. Seems we’ll be getting an influx of ponies from Manehatten and its surrounding areas.
Spring, 3rd of new quarter:
Fifteen ponies sent to Pony General Ward, most common complaint: nosebleeds.
2:12 PM: Cloudy Mane sent to level 3, Physiology Ward
Note: Not too many appointments today. Ditzy Doo missed her weekly appointment with Dr. Oroborous, again. The increased number of ponies to PG was surprising, but the meeting yesterday helped.
The stallion flipped between pages, noting the change from neat and orderly writing to a more hurried and scrawled print. He took a moment to glance towards the filly, but she seemed to be waiting patiently, if nervously, nearby. His attention moved back to the logbook.
Spring, 4th of new quarter:
Twenty-three ponies sent to PG Ward, most common complaint: soreness and nosebleeds.
Note: All appointments cancelled until further notice. PG is getting swamped.
Spring, 5th of new quarter:
Forty ponies sent to PG.
Note: What is going on?! There’s no reason for this!
Spring, 6th of new quarter:
Thirty-two sent to PG. Doctor sent out to Sweet Apple Acres.
Note: Administrator and Mayor Mare talked today. Something is happening.
Spring, 7th of new quarter:
Forty-two more sent to PG. Patients are spread across the whole hospital now.
Note: Tomorrow, there’s a meeting at Town Hall. Wish I was going, but someone needs to direct these ponies.
Spring, 8th of new quarter:
Sweetheart came in and told me what’s happening. I’m only a temp; I’m not trained for this! I’m taking some supplies we have in storage, throwing it on one of the hospital’s carts, and heading west. Forgive me for being a coward.
The stallion flipped through the remaining pages, all of which were blank, before adding the log to his growing pile of kindling. Though it helped explain some of the mess, it didn’t have all the answers. With another sigh of defeat, he turned to see Twist staring at him.
“Find your antherth?”
“Barely,” he said and started down one of the corridors. Wind could be heard coming through one of the windows as his hooves clacked upon the tiled floor, with the filly’s own doing the same.
Their steps alternated between ceramic and paper as charts and missives were scattered on the ground. An overturned gurney narrowed the hallway before them and they were forced to press against the wall, choosing to leave it alone to keep silent and as they were walking by the messy pharmacy, a bit of yellow could be seen.
He stopped abrubtly, turning slowly and angling his head to get a better look. The room held multiple aisles of medication behind a counter littered with paperwork, more so than the front desk. Empty pill bottles were scattered either on the work surface or the floor, and the yellow spot grew bigger. As his perception adjusted, he realized it was a tail. The stallion’s eyes opened wider and he took a few steps in to check the corners, finding them empty but for a few scattered magazines and tossed aside chairs, before darting into the room.
Behind the counter, lay Applejack, her saddlebags crushed beneath her. Her orange chest was barely rising and falling while her blonde mane and tail twitched, the frazzled mess missing the iconic bands. He rushed over to her and brought his head lower, listening to her labored, shallow breathing. A hoof was placed on her neck as he counted, finding an equally slowed heart rate. Upon opening one of her eyes, he could see dilated pupils, even though she was asleep.
His head snapped up and he cast his gaze around the room again. Next to the orange mare lay an open bottle with pills spilling out. Moving forward and avoiding the sprawling mess that covered the floor, he grabbed the bottle and scanned the label before catching ‘oxycodone’. The stallion stood quickly and started digging through the aisles, bags of pills and containers of various liquid medications being tossed aside without a care.
“What’th wrong with her?” Twist asked, her voice filled with worry as she peered around the counter towards the his panicked movements.
“She’s overdosed on opiates. Look for something called ‘naloxone’!” he said as he started tossing useless medicines aside. “Come on, come on...”
“Found it!” the filly exclaimed as she held up a bottle. The stallion darted out of the aisle and into the next, quickly grabbing the vial from the girl and looking over the label: naltrexone. He tossed it aside with a grunt and stepped over to where Twist found it.
“Close, but not it,” he said quickly as she looked between the medicine and the stallion in confusion. His hoof hovered over various pouches and, a moment later, he had it. He absentmindedly pushed the filly away and ran over to the equipment aisle. Upon grabbing a bag, the stallion ripped it open and a sterile needle poked out.
The stallion stabbed it into the bottle of naloxone, flipped it over, and filled it, before tossing the container away. It clattered to a corner, the sound loud in the haunting quiet of the empty hospital. He felt around Applejack’s arm for a moment before pushing the needle into it and injecting the fluid. Twist winced at the procedure and once the syringe was emptied, he removed it and threw it aside.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the mare’s breathing grew regular. The stallion pressed a hoof to her neck and found her heart rate increasing as well. He breathed a sigh of relief. The battle wasn’t over yet, but it would have to do. Until she awoke, they would have to wait.
He stepped over Applejack and headed to the doorway. Upon reaching it, he scanned the desolate and empty hallways before shutting the door and sitting down near it. Keeping the mare in his view, the stallion took the opportunity to relax, his tense shoulders slumping slightly. Twist sat between the two with confusion playing on her face.
“Wha-”
“Counters opiates. Serious side effects, but she’ll live, regardless,” he replied.
“What now?”
“We wait.”
The little pony walked over to one corner where paper was piled up and a small amount of brown could be seen. Rummaging through paper, she dug out a slightly tattered hat, brushing off small pieces of debris. Cautiously, the filly approached Applejack’s form and deposited the hat on her head.
"Why did you do that?" the stallion asked, his voice gruff as he leaned his head back and onto the cold wall. His muscles had calmed slightly, but the tension was still there, as if he was waiting for something to happen.
"It'th Mith Applejack'th hat," the filly said as if that explained everything.
One of his eyebrows arched. "You know her?"
She huffed indignantly. "Of courth I do. The made uth apple pie thometimeth, and the’th Apple Bloom'th big thith—" The filly cut herself off and coughed a few times, placing a hoof over her mask in habit. "The'th okay. I'm thure the ith. They all are, right?"
He looked away, somehow unable to focus on her bright, pink eyes. "I'm sure they're all fine."
She smiled, a sad, tiny thing that was so fragile, but a smile nonetheless. "Thank you, Mithter.” Twist paused, looking about the room at nothing in particular before returning her gaze to the stallion. “Maybe Mommy and Daddy are okay, too?"
"Ju-just rest a little while. Miss Applejack will be up and about soon."
She was quiet for a few seconds before she finally talked again. "Why're you trying to thave her?"
"What do you mean?"
"Thome of the other adulth, in town, when thingth were bad, they only thried to thave themthelves..."
He grunted. "She’s different. She's one of the Elements of Harmony."
"What'th—"
He shushed her once more. "Just rest. I'll keep watch."
Less than an hour passed before the earth pony mare gasped. The stallion watched as her eyes snapped wide and all her limbs began kicking out. When her hooves found purchase, she jumped up, landing squarely with no evidence of her previous injury. Almost immediately, however, the cowmare lost balance and crashed to the ground, sending a plume of dust into the air. She tried again, this time leaning against the counter beside her as she spun around, first looking at the medicine spilt upon the floor, then straight at him, glaring.
“Who are ya? Where am Ah? What happened? Did you do something to me?!” she spouted off, voice rising with a tinge of anger laced beneath the suspicion.
“Calm down. You’re in a hospital and you overdosed on pain pills. I saved you.” The stallion stood, stretching his limbs in the process. All her attention was on him, her bleary eyes following his every move as he took a determined step forward. She jumped back into a defensive stance and glared at him.
“Ah don’t know who ya are, and Ah sure as hay ain’t letting ya near me,” she growled.
“Mith Applejack?” Twist removed her helmet and let it plop to the ground beside her. “Are you okay?”
Applejack glanced away from the stallion to look at the filly. Her gaze lingered, tilting her head and squinting as if she couldn’t see her properly. “Twist? Is that you?”
Seeing that the mare was distracted, he gave the medicine aisles a quick peek. Every lane was checked before he pocketing a few pill bottles. When he came back to the counter, he saw them talking, the filly nervous with Applejack chatting happily about days long gone. The farm pony quickly turned back at him, though, when the vial he had tossed aside earlier rolled away from his foreleg.
“Who are ya and why do ya have Twist with ya?!” the freckled farm-pony demanded as she took a few hesitant steps towards the stallion.
“Calm down, Miss. I’m here to help,” the stallion replied while signalling for her to quiet down.
Whatever discussion that was about to transpire quickly stalled when maniacal laughter sounded from the other side of the door.
“W-what’th th-that?” Twist asked in a trembling voice. Inching nearer to the door, she could feel her heart beating in her chest.
“We have to go. Now,” the tense stallion answered as turned from the farmer.
“Aww no, Ah’m goin’ nowhere with ya!” The scowl upon Applejack’s face quickly warped into one of realization. “Ah need mah pills!” the mare screamed before running back to the counter, scattering the papers upon the floor.
The door splintered as a stallion smashed his way in and he towered over the trembling filly staring up at him with a manic grin. As the mad pony began cackling insanely, the wind picked up, howling wildly through the hospital. Twist stood frozen on the spot with her pupils dilated to pinpricks while the hooded stallion grabbed one of Applejack’s forelegs.
“Come on, Applejack! We don’t have time!” he yelled, tugging on her. She fought back against him, crying for the pills she felt she so desperately needed.
“Um... um...” The filly snapped out of her stupor, only to prance in place, trying to figure out what she should do. The mad pony stopped laughing and glared down at her, his ever-present smile unnerving her.
“I’mma get ya this time! I’mma cut ya an’ eat ya!” he said before lunging forward. Twist fell upon the ground, curling into a ball and screaming.
Two strong legs slammed into the crazed pony’s face, rocketing him backwards to meet the opposing wall. As he slumped down, the howl of the wind grew louder and the hooded stallion stood at the doorway.
“Come on!” he yelled, throwing Twist onto his back and dragging the orange mare, her weakened state doing nothing to help her fight him under his adrenaline rush.
As they left the room and started down the hallway, he couldn’t drag Applejack further, releasing her leg when she seemed to snap out of her insanity. She yanked her leg away and shakily brought her hooves under her once more. Then, her eyes fell on the unconscious pony. “What did ya do?!”
“No time! Move it!” came the reply as the stallion rushed to the other end of the hospital, the filly bouncing slightly upon his back.
“As if Ah’d go anywhere with you!” Applejack yelled after him, then glanced towards the front entrance. A veritable tempest of air marred her path, forcing papers to whip about chaotically. Pens and other light office supplies flew through the air like miniature missiles. She shivered as if knowing what it was before turning around and racing after the stallion. “Hold up!”
The rear exit was nearing. In the darkened corridors, the cowpony had trouble catching up, but they struggled onwards, even as debris slapped at their faces. Another pony stepped out of the darkness of a side room, laughing madly, and stabbed outwards as they rushed by without a glance.
A cry of pain elicited from the filly.
The stallion winced in empathy for the girl, then burst through the rear doors, Applejack’s hoofbeats right behind him. They kept moving as the sky filled with dark grey clouds and the wind grew ever louder.
When they were not but a few hundred paces away, the farmer looked back without stopping. A spiraling vortex of bluish grey wind was funneling into the hospital’s front entrance. She turned forward again, eyes wide in panic as she followed the stallion.
The wind whispered after them.
It lives!
Edited by:
What’s this? Raven’s the editor? Well, who could possibly be the author? It is I, your friendly neighborhood stapled cactus, StapleCactus! Do not be alarmed, my fine folk. If you haven’t caught wind of it yet, let me do so now.
This marks the inaugural switching of the authors. I am essentially ghost-writing this story for Raven because of many reasons that I can’t be bothered to remember. Do not worry! This tale will follow strict guidelines given to me by that black bird with a miniature sword and I will do my best to make it a seamless transition. (Though I totally can’t expect that to be the case because we have varying styles of writing...)
And because we need more links to this thing: Philosophize!
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Lost one, gained one.
Not sure what to think about that.
I'm so HAPPY that this updated. And poor Twist...
Finally. This story was far too interesting to be discontinued. Also, even though I'm not a big fan of Twist, I hope she doesn't die.
I think I realized Of Journals switched writers when a chapter actually hit 4k
1455255 Did they lose Twist? It really wasn't clear. She was riding on his back and then someone stabbed her and the story says absolutely nothing about the results of that afterwards.
1469913 The way that I read it, it implied that they were minus one by the time they exited the hospital, so I'm not holding my breath that something good actually came of it.
1470036 I reread it several times and I didn't see it implying anything one way or the other. It just mysteriously stops mentioning her.
1470069 Hmm, yeah, I just reread it as well and see what you mean. Didn't mention anything about her falling off or anything, so I guess she's still there, but it is kind of strange that they stop mentioning her considering the fact that she was the only one that got wounded.
Yay, loved that this story updated!
Was this story continued elsewhere...? I'm hooked, and looking at the rate of updates is rather depressing.
2272361
Aww, I'm sorry mate, but I think not... Sorry.
2272565
Well, I already have a project or two that I'm working on right now, but would you be entirely unopposed to me taking this fic up some time in the near future? I mean really, this is off to such a good start, it would be a shame to let it fall to the wayside.
2273756
Sure!
Contact me on... Monday, when I might have my pc fixed. I'll give you the full-story outline.
2275009
Fantastic! Greatly looking forward to this!
3871075
I've never refused a good shower before....