Losing My Insanity
Late into the night at the Apple Family orchard, as the hard working farm ponies slept within their humble, comfy, and cozy home, the barn doors slowly and quietly slid open. As it reached its apex, the air became still and all noise in the area ceased. It was a warning, as suddenly a darkened figure shot out of the shadows within, and swiftly bolted out of the property limits, heading straight for Ponyville. It was Monsoon, dead-set on survival.
With his unnatural frame, he sped down the road at breakneck speeds, legs amplified by the boost of energy he unleashed which had him move swift enough to outclass Olympic athletes. As he hit the towns edge, he leaped high into the air, unleashed his magnetic force, and landed on the nearest thatched roof softly with the aid from the repulsion of the metal below him. As he kept the electromagnetic field around him active, he darted between the buildings like a ninja in the night, making his way to the hospital that housed Psycho Mantis.
As he drew closer, his thoughts began to waver in resolve regarding to what he found out about the ex-FOXHOUND member. There was no one quite like the psychic. While Monsoon's technological feats blurred the lines between science and fantasy, easily performing acts that were beyond impressive, the history of the self proclaimed "world's greatest practitioner of telepathy and psychokinesis" was entirely unreal. Even with the absurdity of magic, talking ponies couldn't hold a candle to what he read in the files.
He finally found himself before the target hospital, and as the dead of the night grew colder and quieter, the cyborg hid himself within the shrubbery that sat a good distance away from the sign, let alone the entrance. He observed the face of the building, and noted that a few lights were still on. There were still a few orderlies and doctors within the halls, obviously there to take care of the various overnight patients of different conditions. Monsoon switched to the installed scope within his ocular lenses inside of his helm, and scoured the windows to get a look at who may be patrolling the halls, and what rooms have ponies in them. He did this to all four sides of the building, before returning to the front where he started. As it turned out, fourteen windows in total were off or obscured by blinds or curtains, but the ones he could see through had nothing but ponies sit at the frame or walk by every now and then. Never-the-less, it narrowed his search somewhat.
Monsoon rubbed his chin in thought, and considered how he'd approach. The front door was possibly the easiest way, but there was a chance that someone would be running the reception desk. The roof was out, as the thatched surface had no entrance or landing pad for emergencies. He could try sneaking in through one of the top windows, but there was a chance he could easily pick the wrong one and be immediately busted for his attempt, and he knew he only had one shot at this. He gazed back to the front entrance, noting the lack of glass to see through. He tapped his chin for a moment, before he came up with a solution.
Activating his magnetic force, he let his body fall to pieces. As he lay upon the ground disassembled, his head and hand rolled up to the front entrance slowly, staying in the grass and using the sign as cover, up until the chosen pieces reached the front door. He lifted his hand to the door and lightly tested it. It was locked, of course, but that was no problem. Keeping calm and focused, he concentrated the magnetic force around him, and manipulated the lock until it clicked. Child's play.
He then slowly opened the door a crack until he could just see through the sliver of the opening. Peering inside, he surveyed his surroundings, and sure enough with his luck, the reception desk was actually empty. He grinned outwardly, and called the rest of his pieces to him and reconstructed himself. Slowly slinking in, he closed and locked the door behind him, and kept his footfalls light and soft, as he approached the front desk. Upon reaching it, he began looking through the files. Thankfully, they were all written in a language he could understand, despite his street urchin background back in his old life. It was amazing, really, that the language the ponies seemed to use mimicked the languages back on Earth, though how much of that statement being true was up for debate. Thumbing through the papers and documents, he finally found the one he was looking for. Psycho Mantis: 3rd Floor, room 314, west wing. Reading further, it had been noted that he's the only one residing in the room, and staff are to check on him every half an hour. He had his location, and his possible patrol route, but now it was just a matter of getting to him.
Before that, he heard the sound of hooves clacking against the floor, approaching his location. Monsoon replaced all of the files, closed the drawers, and left the area as quickly and as quietly as he could, keeping low and treading softly. That was, up until he reached a slightly ajar broom closet, which he ducked into and shut the door as silently as possible. As he waited for the unknown pony to pass by, he noted that a lot of the equipment and supplies here were actually quite typical. Mops, brooms, rags, buckets. Funnier still, there were various disinfectants and bottles of cleaning solutions and bleach. He never knew bleach actually existed in this world, and wondered if it was just as potent and dangerous as it was back on Earth. He picked up a bottle and read the label. Sure enough, there were warning signs and notes written all over it, including directions in case of accidental ingestion or direct contact with coat hair and skin. He pawed at his chin once again, and wondered if any disinfecting alcohol was also available in the building, considering it WAS a hospital.
With the only way to find for sure being to investigate, he silently fell back to pieces, and began rolling his head and detached hand along the ground, using the magnetism to propel them along the surface, searching for a medical supply closet. His pieces didn't have to go far before he found an emergency medical closet. Once again, like the front door, it was locked, but that was once again a trifle as he willed it open and swiftly moved his pieces inside. Gazing about the slightly larger room, he found all sorts of supplies for any sort of physical ailment that couldn't be treated with medicinal remedies. Tenser bandages, wraps, medical tape, spare crutches, folded wheelchairs, and of course, rubbing and disinfectant alcohol. His hand swiftly grabbed a bottle and brought it down to the ground as his head and prize were dragged back to the broom closet. Upon re-entry, Monsoon put himself back together, grabbed a few cloths, an empty bottle, and poured some of the alcohol into the bottle itself. After that, he carefully added the bleach until the bottle was full, then swiftly sealed it with a spare cork he found.
A wry grin cracked along his face, but died when a thought occurred. Are ponies affected by chloroform the same way humans are? If he wanted any hope of getting around some of the patrolling ponies, he'd need to know if it would be effective, even if it were a last resort. He cracked open the broom closet door, and peered outside, looking for any sign of anypony nearby. Sure enough, he could see a nurse at the desk, flipping through papers and putting some of them together with paper clips. Monsoon had another idea to make this test stealthy as possible. Activating his magnetic force, he borrowed a small team of paper clips, and covertly flew them over to his location, before unfolding them and bound them into a claw big enough to wrap around a pony's face. He then wadded up a cloth, doused it with his impromptu chloroform mix, and placed it between two more rags, before fastening them together with the metal wires from the clips. He then manipulated the clips to fly the chloroform rags to the nurse, whom was totally unaware, and then swiftly wrapped said soaked rags around her mouth and nose. The nurse panicked from the sudden gag, and tried in vain to pull it off, as the wires tightened up and kept her from removing it. After a few moments, the nurse began to slow down, before passing out entirely, held aloft only by the magnetized wires and haphazardly thrown together chloroform mask. It was a success. Slowly, he used the mask to set the nurse down, before sped to the desk quietly, cleaned the mess she made in her panic, and picked up the unconscious body. He then placed her inside the broom closet, jammed the door, stole a map, and began trekking through the halls carefully.
He had to go to the third floor, but that was easier said than done, as he soon found out. The first problem was the obvious: The many doctors, nurses, orderlies, and other staff members that worked the night shift (or in this case, graveyard shift) doing their various tasks and patrolling the halls, all of whom that likely won't be very keen on his intrusion, especially since he was certain breaking and entering was still a crime here. This wasn't even mentioning the fact he assaulted, knocked out, and locked up a nurse. The second problem, which he discovered upon reading the map, was that the only way to the higher floors was to take the stairs. Elevators either were a luxury, or hadn't been invented yet. It'd be less of a problem if it was a straight shot, but there's always the possibility of someone entering the stairwell. He needed to be extra careful in that regard.
Despite this, he had no choice but to persevere, and keep his senses sharp, first sneaking down the hall to get to the west wing's stairwell. Following the map was easy enough, but he moved slow, keeping his eyes on the doors and keeping his frame low and away from view. He was rather surprised he only ever had to stop and hide twice on the way to his first destination, but his good luck ended upon grabbing the door and finding it locked. As he was about to turn on his magnetic powers to unlock it, he heard rather swift hoof steps coming in close. In a panic, he disassembled himself, magnetized to the roof, and watched as an orderly arrived to his former location, fetched some keys, and enter the stairwell, only to sit upon the ground outside the door, and pluck out a snack from a carried satchel. Monsoon grumbled to himself, realizing he'd either have to wait, which was not an option, or head to the east wing to find the alternative staircases. It didn't take much thought as his peaces rolled across the ceiling slowly, away from the lights, as he kept his eyes open for other individuals.
It took some time, but he finally managed to get himself to the east wing stairwell door, which was surprisingly unlocked. Monsoon then swiftly ducked inside, and crept up the steps as softly as he could, using his magnetism to offset and lessen the vibrations he'd make while climbing. After a while, he reached the third floor, and bolted for the door. However, before he could even open it, the handle jiggled, causing Monsoon to flatten against the wall, as the door swung open and concealed his presence. The sound of a stallion and a nurse merrily making medical jokes as they proceeded downstairs rang about, while Monsoon slithered around the door and back into the halls, letting the passage close behind him with an audible click. He gazed about his surroundings, and noticed that another pony was coming from the west in the distance. The cyborg cursed softly, as he turned the corner to take the southern halls of the east wing and found no one there. Without a foreseeable alternative, Monsoon crept down the east wing, keeping low once again and staying vigilant to any sounds that could indicate pony movement.
Once again, his luck ran dry, as the sound of opening and closing doors echoed before him, while the approaching pony behind him was now about to make the corner. With no other alternative, and figuring it'd be too risky to jump to the ceiling this time, he opened the door to a darkened room he was near, slipped inside, and quietly closed the door, using his magnetism to keep the knob and lock under silent control. He crouched, staying out of sight from the window beside the door, and waited patiently for the two staff members to pass by. However, his patience was in vein as the two staff ponies met before the door he hid behind and began to chat with each other. He growled, desperately needing to get a move on, but was hopelessly stuck now while the inane conversation continued, until an idea lit up his day. Activating his magnetic influence, he took hold of the metal doorknob of a north side door, just far enough away from him around the corner of the hall, opened it gently, before forcing it to slam as hard as possible. The noise was enough that the entire hospital could hear it, if his judgements were correct. Regardless of how audible it truly was, it certainly got the attention of the staff before the door he hid behind, as their conversation ceased, and the two of them left to investigate.
He sighed for a moment, before something in the back of his head told him to look behind him. Slowly and tentatively, he turned, and saw a bandaged up pony, practically sealed in a cast from face to tail, staring directly at him. Monsoon was shocked he was actually caught, but relieved it was from an entirely helpless patient. He stood up, reached into a couple of his pouches, and took out a set of rags and the bottle of chloroform. With the items in hand, he approached the pony, whom was now panicking at the sight of the approaching, menacing cyborg. He stopped before the poor, bound creature, doused the rags, and covered the nose and mouth. The muffled pleas and cries of help slowly dissipated as the eyes behind the cast shut gently.
"You seem to be in a lot of pain anyway," he whispered, "This'll help you rest, and forget I was ever here."
Once Monsoon was satisfied that the patient was unconscious, he placed his rags and chloroform back into their pouches, and returned to the door. Upon opening it, he took a peek outside, and noticed no one was nearby. Smiling at the stroke of luck and opportunity, he wasted no more time. Monsoon exited the room, sneaked down the hall, and proceeded to the west wing of the hospital, still careful to make sure no other staff could catch him.
It was then that he finally reached the proper wing, and was practically a stone's throw away from his final destination. He gazed to his side, and noticed the closest door being Room 320. He smiled, as he slowly moved down the hall, still keeping low on the off chance a staff member were near. Strange, he thought, it seems quieter around here, now. He noticed the distinct lack of activity in the area, but figured that the psychotic telepath had spooked them out of their minds. It honestly wouldn't take much, he laughed mockingly.
However, as he finally approached the door he had been looking for, an ominous sense of dread began to slowly bubble within him. The very fabric of nightmares and madness was on the other side of this door, and flashes of files and documents that detailed the feats and crimes danced in his head. He reached for the door, but hesitated for a moment. What if he knows I'm here? It was something he had asked himself before he decided to come here, and it still wasn't properly answered. Rumors among the files described that anti-telepathy tech was possibly being made to counteract psychic operatives, but the number of psychics were minuscule at best back then, and the tech was never mentioned, nor openly implemented, as the years went on. There was no telling that if the tech exists, if it's in use now as he continued to live, or that he was now a sitting duck before perhaps the most dangerous natural human in all of creation.
He took a deep, cybernetic breath, before he slowly opened the door to Psycho Mantis' room, only to find the psychic to be lying still upon his bed, lightly breathing. It was entirely unreal. The legendary Psycho Mantis, a formerly deceased member of the special forces unit codenamed FOXHOUND: a squad of extraordinary talent which ended their career with a failed coup. He was somewhat shocked to see him so emaciated, bound in tight leather garb, with exposed stitches, scars, and bar-codes marking his skin. Despite the shabby appearance, there was no doubt in Monsoon's mind that there was a thick air of danger around the sickly body.
After basking in the presence of a legend, he took another breath, and unsheathed one of his sais, slowly approaching the thinly psychic. He wanted to make this as quick and as quiet as possible, and be absolutely sure he succeeded. He would use no magnetism to do it from afar, nor would he manipulate the metal around him to do it. He would simply plunge the sai into Psycho Mantis' heart, with his own bare hand, and leave no mistake.
As he got closer, the sound of three sets of hooves were heard clamoring down the hall, as metal armor clinked and clacked along the hoof-falls. Monsoon turned for a moment, clicking his tongue, realizing he was running out of time, and decided to just rush the psychic and get it over with. However, to his horror, as he turned back, the psychic was already sitting up in his bead, staring directly at him. I'm too late...
"STOP!"
Monsoon whirled around, and saw the nurse he knocked out when testing the chloroform, with two heavily armored stallions, one wielding a crossbow, and the other wielding a spear. Damn, he thought, I guess the chloroform didn't last as long as I'd have hoped.
"Put your weapon away, Monsoon, and step away from the patient," the nurse ordered.
"How do you know my name? I highly doubted you pony folk would care to learn such a thing from a creature like me." Monsoon asked, as he slowly slid his sai back to its rightful place.
"Twilight informed me after I requested she send guards to catch the one who DRUGGED ME AND LOCKED ME IN A BROOM CLOSET."
Silence was thick in the air for the moment, as the cyborg and the nurse stared each other down and the guards kept their weapons pointed.
"You do know those won't do anything to me, right?" Monsoon pointed out, mockingly, hoping that he could use the sudden confrontation as a front to surprise the psychic in the confusion.
"Probably not. The weapons are just protocol with them," she answered, "but if anyone here gets injured for whatever reason, the Princess WILL be contacted, and you will have to answer to her." She let the words sink in for a moment, before adding, "And considering you want to go home, I think it would be best if you leave with these Guards, without resistance. You can sort your... violent issues out with them and Twilight, AWAY from the hospital patients."
Monsoon glowered, and looked back at the psychic, whom remained silent the entire time. It was then he felt a small, but harsh, tug on his sai, as if someone was trying to pull them away from the cyborg. Or worse, he was sending a message wordlessly to Monsoon that he's aware of the situation fully and just may retaliate if attacked. A shiver crawled up his synthetic spine upon peering into the orange lenses of that horrible gas mask, realizing that he no longer had control over the scenario. He gave a shaky sigh, and removed his hand from his sai, held both hands above his head, and turned towards the ponies. "Very well. I surrender. I'll go peacefully."
"Good," the nurse said, "Follow them." She then stepped aside, allowing room for Monsoon to pass by.
The cybernetic mercenary took a few steps forward, before he stopped, and looked back to Psycho Mantis. There he was, sitting in his bed, staring directly at him, weak and frail, but in so much control he would easily pull Monsoon around like a marionette. The nothing that did happen honestly disturbed him the most. After another, shaky sigh, he kept on walking, now being lead by the guards as they slowly made their way to the entrance of the building. Only the nurse remained, whom looked to Mantis, and slowly closed the telepath's door before locking it.
Alone now, Mantis looked into the night sky, as he waited for his uninvited guest to exit the building, and the small caravan of guards, joined by the two that retrieved Monsoon, to depart the grounds for the Golden Oaks' Library, where they would speak with Twilight about the situation. Some had hoped that they could take the intruder to Celestia herself to dole out a punishment savage enough for such a danger. Others just wanted to go home and be done with the situation. It was honestly the same drivel he heard when he manipulated the minds of the soldiers back at Shadow Moses Island. Human beings were such terrible, disgusting, and frankly embarrassing creatures for the most part in his eyes, and ponies were no better for different reasons, if a few similar vices and a whole lot more power.
He was somewhat afraid the cyborg wouldn't show, but was glad that human fear and desperation was still alive and won in the end. He did need to test to see if psychic insulation was actually created in the technology that Monsoon possessed. He had once read that such anti-telepathy technology would be implemented through a combination of chemical stimuli and brainwave signal alteration and jamming, and felt such a thing was likely set up within the cyborg's body. However, the body language that was seen showed that the cyborg himself didn't even know he had that kind of advantage. Invisible to his telepathy and psychic probing, if Monsoon had been quicker, he would have succeeded. Despite the risk and the one spot of bad news, the testing data he gathered on his strength and manipulation elated him to no end. However, it was still no less a threat, now that he knew the existence of two types of telepathy walls. He would have to mind his actions, and keep his distance away from the the more powerful users of the arcane, and be sure to dispose of the cyborg as soon as he could if he ever troubled him again.
Despite the troubles, it was never-the-less almost time to move forward with his final plan. Once ready, he will gather his map, and head to the source of their hopes and dreams, before he finally makes good on his promise.
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Never liked any of the Hitman games.
8720675
Never played any of the Hitman games... even though I own the PS2 collection.
8721374
You didn't miss out a thing. The whole gimmick of that game series is to feel like a sneaky elite assassin. Playing the Spy class of Team Fortress 2 is a thousand times more fun. Which is a very low bar to cover.
At least, it was for me while I still played. Busy, and the game filled with premade tryhards.
8721521
Well, haven't played TF2 either, so I wouldn't know... though, I definitely hear joey talk about it in high regard.
Still, Metal Gear is more my jam anyway, but I'll probably try Hitman one day. Ya know, give it the ol' collage try.