Sanatorium
Sanatorium
Written and Edited by: Patient X
The day was quite ordinary; Ponyville’s market was bustling with heavy business, the weather control pegasi had done a great job clearing the sky of any clouds, and I was on my way to a job offering in an hour at a special type of hospital atop a hill half a mile west of Ponyville.
Trotting down the busy streets of Ponyville, I soon arrive at an oversized tree outfitted with windows, a few small balconies, and a door. I slowly walk up to the door and read a small sign hanging from a wood pole next to it: ‘Ponyville Library’. Curious, I proceed to open the door, only to have it slam into my face and knock me to the ground.
I look up, my face slightly throbbing, to find a baby dragon (purple skin with green spines along his back and head) standing over me with sympathy and slight shock, dropping a pile of dusty books.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I hope I didn’t hurt you too bad!” the young reptile exclaims, extending his claw to help me up. I extend a hoof and he grabs it, helping me get back up. I wipe a small trickle of blood away from my nose, and give the baby dragon a small smile.
“It’s all good. Say, do you know of any books in there that contain information on local establishments?” I ask the reptile, hoping to get a good answer as he picks up the pile of old tomes.
“Um. I think you need to talk to Twilight about it. She’s the pony who lives here, so she might be your best bet.” The baby dragon replies, gesturing me to come inside of the tree.
“Alright, then---wait. Lives here?” I ask as the reptile leads me inside. The interior is lined completely with books, their shelves carved efficiently into the walls of the hollowed out tree. In the middle is a small table, piled high with books and lit slightly by a large candle. To my right is a staircase that leads up to an area fitted with a bed and table. To my left is a young purple pony with a very dark blue mane with two streaks of highlight flipping through an encyclopedia.
“Hey, Twilight. Somepony wants to look through a book for a business or something.” The baby dragon calls out to the mare. She turns and reveals a horn, glowing bright purple as the encyclopedia is magically closed and fit back into the shelf.
“I’ll take it from here, Spike.” She tells the small reptile, who scurries out the door with the pile of dusty books.
“I’m Twilight Sparkle. What business do you need information on?” The unicorn asks me with a small smile.
“I need some information on: ‘Ponyville Sanatorium for the Criminally Insane’.” I tell her.
“Jeez. I haven’t heard about that place since some lunatic broke out and tried to burn down the town hall a year ago.” Twilight tells me with an expression of uncertainty while she uses magic to pull a large book out of a shelf.
She opens the book and begins to flip through the pages, mumbling to herself; “Sugarcube Corner, no. Ponyville Town hall, no. Local restaurants, no.” She finally flips to a page and gives a hopeful grin.
“Here it is.” Twilight says as she turns the book around and literally shoves it in my face, the smell of the old tome wafting into my nostrils. I back away a few inches and begin to read the short entry out loud.
“’Ponyville Sanatorium for the Criminally Insane’ was built about one hundred years ago by wealthy philanthropists and is still a well-known location to psychiatric ponies. This sanatorium is also infamous for harboring the worst criminals, some who have gone completely senseless and have lost any hope to rebuild their sanity. Due to the recent lack of funding because of some nurses and doctors practicing what are considered ‘immoral’ procedures, the facility is now in a crumbling state and in desperate need of funding and repair.” I look up from the book to see Twilight giving a face of interest.
“Why are you looking things up about this place? It’s pretty morbid stuff.” She asks while closing the book and sliding it back into the shelf.
“I’ve got a job offer there. They’re somewhat understaffed and the pay’s decent.” I tell Twilight as I walk towards the door.
“Are you sure you want to do that? I mean, that place seems pretty bad.” Twilight tells me as I open the door. Dark, obese rain clouds are being brought in my weather pegasi and it has already started to drizzle.
“I just need a job, some money, and a fresh start. My previous occupation at ‘Marehattan Psychiatric Institute’ is way too overstaffed, making pay loo little to be able to sustain myself properly without buying a smaller apartment.” I tell the purple unicorn, looking out of a window next to the door at the storm clouds quickly being brought in.
“Alright, if you say so. Just don’t be surprised when some patient turns on you. I’ve heard some pretty gruesome things about the place.” Twilight adds just as I leap out of the door and into the rain.
“It’ll be fine!” I call back as I gallop to the hill, being dumped on by buckets of cold water.
Half an hour later, I arrive atop the hill that the asylum resides on. It is a large, one story red brick and mortar building with rigid, black roof shingles that are just beginning to come loose and fall off. The windows are thick glass panels outfitted with six iron bars, barricading anypony who tried to escape from one of them.
A two-way gravel path leads from the sanatorium to the bottom of the grassy, tree covered hill, while a somewhat trimmed lawn covered with large trees surrounds the building. Dying rose buds and lilies edge the sides of the arched, wooden doorway, with cracked, mossy stone steps leading to the entrance.
As soon as my hoof steps onto the stone step, the rain subsides and weather pegasi immediately clear the now dry, white clouds from the sky, a few of them stopping to giggle at my being soaked. I sigh in annoyance and open the wooden door, dripping wet from head to tail. I enter a small foyer, painted white and adorned with small multicolored tiles on the floor with worn waiting benches and old magazine racks lining the walls.
A desk resides behind a reinforced glass wall in the far back. Two steel doors, one to the left and to the right of the desk stand locked. The door to the left has the words: "Managerial office---New Patient Arrivals---Break Quarters" written on the top of it with grey ink. The door on the right has the words: "Patient Ward---Offices---Mess Hall" on the door with somewhat fading blue ink. I approach the desk and the bored looking pegasus behind it acknowledges my presence.
“Visiting or checking in?” The pegasus sighs in a tone of apathy; her white mane and grey skin seemed to fit her white nurse outfit perfectly.
“I’m responding to the job offer that I was sent.” I tell her. She picks up a clipboard and flips through a couple of pages.
“Ross Caxton?” The pegasus responds with the same tone of apathy.
“Yes.” I reply.
“Head into the left door, walk seven doors down, and you’ll get the manager’s office; Mr. Albany is waiting for you.” The pegasus replies, pulling a lever near her desk, releasing a lock inside the door with a loud ‘clack’. The steel door then quickly creaks open. A metal door opens on the left side of the glass wall, and the pegasus gives me a small white towel. I thank her and begin to dry off, beginning with my navy blue mane and working down to my silver body. The rain had also washed away the dried on blood from when the baby dragon (I think I remember Twilight calling him “Spike”) had clocked me in the face with the door to the library.
While drying off, I begin to walk towards Mr. Albany’s office. The walls are covered with faded white paint that is beginning to flake; florescent tubes line the ceiling with a slight hum of usage, and seven steel cage doors, on alternating sides, line my path, unrestrained ponies inside them either crying with mental agony, or screaming curse words and garbled sentences with rage and insanity. Their cells are decently cleaned, but some cells have strange inscriptions smeared on their concrete walls with fresh feces and vomit. Nurse ponies with syringes filled with sedatives and tough guard ponies with short cattle-prods patrol the hallway. All of them give me a look of slight desperation, the same desperation as when the sentence, ‘we need all the help we can get’ is uttered.
After passing through the hallway to the desired area, I am greeted by a wooden door to my left. The words “Managerial Office” is scribbled on it with fading black paint. The hallway past the office leads to a dead end, which is accompanied by an emergency exit and a break room. I open the door and step into the grey carpeted office. Windows to a small unkempt topiary garden line the right wall, which is also barred by corroding iron pikes. In front of me is a large wooden desk with papers and files covering it.
A huge pegasus, green mane and yellow skin, sits behind the desk, scribbling on a patient’s prescription paper. His doctor’s coat is covered with small, dirty worn areas that have been shoddily patched up with bits of wool, and his face is wearing a look of boredom. He looks up at me and gives a smirk.
“Ross Caxton?” He boomed with a deep, guttural voice as he stands up and we shake hooves, tossing my towel over his shoulder.
“Yes. Your are Mr. Albany?” I reply and ask.
“You are quite correct. Welcome to PSCI. ” He says with a sarcastic regal tone and bows.
“I hear you guys need all the help you can get.” I tell him, looking at the corrosion around the edging of the lower walls.
“That’s true. We’ll pay you an annual salary of 200,000 bits; you’ll also get free medical insurance, covered by Ponygressive, and you will have full access to most areas of the building.” Mr. Albany tells me with hope in his voice, hope that I will accept the job.
“Jeez, quite a few benefits; and up front with it, too! Do you give them to all ponies?” I ask with a happier tone of voice.
“No, just you. Other ponies are paid standard salary, 60,000 bits per year, same medical coverage, and they are only allowed access to certain parts of the building.” He replies with a content tone in his voice.
“Why just me, then?” I ask with obvious curiosity.
“You'd be the only neurologist in the entire facility. We want to give you all of the benefits we can.” He says blankly. After pondering the pros and cons of taking the job, I finally make my decision.
“I’ll take the job.” I reply.
He then gives me a contract that I happily sign without reading a single word, expecting it to be a waver for accidental injury liability.
“Welcome to PSCI, Doctor Caxton.” Mr. Albany said, taking off a doctor's jacket from a coat rack hanging behind his desk, and slipping it on my back.
After an hour long walk away from the crumbling facility, wearing my newly acquired doctor's coat, I finally arrive back in Ponyville. The sun is just a few hours from setting, young foals are playing in puddles of rain and mud, and many shops in the market are closing for the day, their tepees dripping with water.
"So, how'd it go?" I hear a familiar voice from behind me. I turn around and see Twilight and uh...Spike 'I think that's his name' I think to myself as I stitch on a smile.
"Very good, Twilight! I got the job and with full benefits." I tell her with happiness in my voice, my face turning into a wide, tooth filled grin.
"It seems like they're gonna try everything to keep you in." Twilight replies slyly.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask her, a little pissed.
"Did your boss give you a tour of the place? We both heard that it's pretty bad in there." Spike told me, worry in his voice.
"No. I just went to his office and I got the job. It was actually pretty quick." I bragged.
"You don't understand. Most of those patients that live there are living in horrible conditions. Many are starving, horrible experiments being preformed on them, and some are even put down because there's nothing that can be done for them." Twilight tells me with Spike's worry in her voice.
"I don't believe you. Nopony will ever mistreat another pony like that in any professional institution!" I retaliate.
"Are you sure? Most employees that come out of that place are usually pretty shaken up and refuse to talk about it." Twilight reasoned with me.
"I think I've heard enough from you two...I'm keeping my job." I tell them, disbelieving their stories.
"Suit yourself. We'll find you later in a 'Ponyville Daily' article about a crazed doctor going on a killing spree." Spike said as the two walked away from me. It's getting late anyways, so I thought I should go back to the hotel that I'm staying at.
Nine hours later, wake up in my tacky one-bed and one-toilet hotel room, reflecting on the past. 'I got the job...and gonna be RICH! Annual salary of 200,000 bits a year! That's THRICE as much I made per two years in my previous job.' I happily think to myself as I quickly hop out of bed and get ready for the day.
Arriving at my place of occupation one hour later, I spot a small carriage pulled by two police-ponies in blue uniforms pull up to the door. The wooden door to the carriage creaks open, and two buff unicorns dressed in white stumble out, pulling behind them a scrawny red earth pony with a black mane. The earth pony, being restrained in a dirty, white strait-jacket, struggles to break free from the unicorn doctors, but the employees keep him still. As one of the unicorns opens the door, the earth pony turns his head around and bites him on the arm. The unicorn shouts in pain, letting the earth pony go; who then manages to break free of the other unicorn.
The fact that his two front legs are restrained, the earth pony can only crawl away with his back two legs. I was near the top of the hill when the entire scene was taking place, so I galloped towards the red mare and grab hold of him with a well placed hoof. He looks up at me and gives a wicked, toothy grin, his eyes are a blood-shot red and his pupils are the size of coconuts. The two unicorns run up to me, one limping with blood leaking from a red bite mark, and grab the earth-pony.
"Did he hurt you too bad?" I ask one of the burly unicorns as I help them lift the patient off of the ground. A nurse pony stands at the door, holding it open as we walk through.
"I've been through worse. Thanks for helping, though." the unicorn tells me with a small voice. We bring the restrained pony inside where two doctor ponies inject him with a sedative and he falls fast asleep.
"You're the new neurologist, right?" one of the doctors asks me, looking at my tan brain cutie mark.
"That's correct. I'm kinda lost; can you tell me where the neurology department is?" I ask him as we give the red skin mare back to the unicorns.
"Sure. Go down to the end of the hall on the door to the center; it's at the very back. At the very end'll be a door labeled "Neurologist" on it. That'll be your new office." The doctor pony tells me with a western accent. I thank him and continue into the unlocked hallway that lie beyond the right door.
Twilight was correct about the state of this hospital. The walls are covered in areas of corroded and flaking white paint, exposing moldy, green concrete, the ceiling tiles are covered with dust; the same dust the was falling onto the shoddily mopped grey-tile floors. Fluorescent tubes line the top of the ceiling, covered in a thick, translucent plastic. I walk down the halls, only to find iron bars barricading patients into tiny, one pony cells.
Those cells are outfitted with a bunk, a toilet and sink; which are all covered in feces, grime, gunk, and everything possibly excretable by anypony. Some emaciated patients reach their hooves out in between the bars and try to grab me, their cries of agony and insanity rattling my very soul with uncontested fear. I dodge their hooves and quickly trot my way to the end of the hallway where I am greeted by an intersection of six doors; two labeled neurology and general doctor to my center, two labeled janitor and toilets to my left, and the last two labeled mess hall and emergency exit, to my right.
I slowly open the door to my new office to find your bog-standard doctor's office. A bed where patients could sit as I administer neurology exams and doses of medicine, a table and chair for my work, and a small refrigerator labeled 'perishable vaccines' with peeling orange and black plastic. With a sigh, I flip through the neatly organized pile of papers and files to find a manila folder with the word "Caxton" stamped on it with red ink. I open the folder to find this week's patient neurology check ups, employee bios (listing all employees that work in my general area of the building), the contract that I had signed earlier (saying that I had to work there for one year before leaving), and a small yellow notepad with a black pen. I organize the patient papers on my desk and flip my notepad open to the first page.
A large pegasus with a white doctor's coat opens the door and sends an unrestrained pegasus patient in; the pegasus comes into my office, wielding a tazer, just in case the patient loses it. I look at the first patient's file.
"Harrison Mills. Age: 32. Sex: Male. Diagnosed with Schizophrenia. Incarcerated due to murder in the second degree. Is that correct?" I ask the unrestrained pony, his white and red striped mane and sky blue skin seemed drained of life, along with his distended belly.
"Uh-huh." The pony replies weakly and with apathy, his voice is scratchy, and high pitched.
"I'm Doctor Caxton; I'm new here and today is the day of the week for your neurological exam." I tell the pony, reaching for my notepad.
"Ho-kay..." Harrison apathetically replies with a sigh, the moans and screams of ponies still coming through the door, even with it shut. Let the day begin...
Ten hours later, I am released from work. Twenty six patients, two of them who have gone completely off the deep end, twenty five and a half examinations (one of the patients decided to end the examination early by punching me square in the face after testing her reflexes with a rubber hammer to the knee; she is now being sedated and under constant watch), and a large amount of paperwork that had to be completed.
The moans and screams of patients in agony still linger in my head, threatening to keep me up at night. Before going back to my hotel to undress into something informal, I decide to visit Twilight, feeling sorry for how I treated her yesterday. I make my way to the tree house to find that nobody was home. I knock several times every few minutes and eventually give up.
"What are you doing here?" A voice piped up from behind me. I turn to see the purple unicorn standing alone with book stuffed saddlebags.
"I came to apologize for how I treated you yesterday." I respond, hoping for forgiveness.
"Apology accepted. I'm not the type to hold grudges, and you didn't really offend or annoy me." she states with a small, toothy smile after pondering for about half a second.
"Well, that's good. I also came over here to say that you were right! Those ponies are living in such... appalling conditions!" I exclaim, and her smile quickly turns into a frown.
"Then why don't you leave?" She asks, puzzled.
"I can't; I've a contract there that says that I have to work there for an entire year before I can quit...unless someone fires me, but I can't let that happen, it won't go very well on my business record." I sigh, lowering my head.
"Well, I'm sorry that you have to be there." Twilight replies, coming up closer and putting her hoof on my shoulder. I smile.
"You know, I find you very interesting. Would you like to go get some lunch at a restaurant during my lunch break tomorrow?" I ask with the same grin.
"That'll be good." Twilight replies, her smile growing.
Fourteen Days Later...
I have been on the job for about two weeks, now and it's been pretty tough. Patients going crazy during the examination and having to be tazed, the horrible agonizing moans of patients in the hallways, being grabbed by the patient's hooves walking to my office more than twice, only to break free a few seconds later, and ounces of blood lost due to the obvious lack cooperation from some patients who just LOVE to kick and punch and bite.
My lunch breaks with Twilight are highly satisfactory; I learn a lot about her, and vice-versa. She's a magic student of Princess Celestia ('Holy shit', I thought to myself when given the information) and she's also very literate and educated (much like yours truly). I tell her about my experiences with old sanatorium that I used to work at and other notable points of my life.
By the seventh day, I finally bought a town home in the south-western side of Ponyville, just ten minutes away from my place of occupation. Although life seems decent, my subconscious would say otherwise. I have frequent night terrors that started around the end of the first week...and it's always the same one...
'I wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of faint whispering. I flip my blanket off my sweating, sticky body and get out of bed. I stumble my way to my bathroom and turn on the light. Staring in the mirror after spraying water in my face, an entity begins to form in the mirror, replacing my reflection; it seems to be very blurry and almost appears to be moving towards me from behind the mirror. The entity then suddenly and quickly turn visible. The entity is ME, but many things are horribly wrong. My eyes are bloodshot red, ribs are broken with sharp bones piercing the skin around my chest, which is leaking spinal fluid. I am in a torn apart strait-jacket, covered in blood...my blood. Organs spilling out of a gaping orifice on my side and are continually falling out. The entity then gives a huge, fang-filled smile and extends both front hooves. They exit the mirror and grab my head. I struggle, trying to break free, but its grip is too strong. The entity's head then extends from the mirror and looks at me with apathy. It opens its mouth, a few seconds later, and clamps down on my cranium with a loud snap, blood spraying everywhere.' I then wake up.
Those nightmares have caused me to lose hours of sleep every night, and terrify me so much that I'm even scared of going into my own bathroom at night. They've also taken a toll on my work habits, I almost never get all of the patient's examinations completed; always leaving one or two, hell, maybe even three untreated. I talked with Mr. Albany and some of my co-workers about these nightmares and they all said 'wait it out' or 'use a dream suppressant'; which I've tried both and none of them work. I think I need to talk to Twilight about these nightmares...
"I have a...problem. Could you help me out with it?" I ask Twilight as we share a meal at our favorite restaurant on day fifteen of my employment in Ponyville.
"Sure, Ross. What do you need?" She asks then takes a bite of her steaming hay sandwich.
'I've been having these nightmares; and they're always the same one. You got any advice or spell to help me get rid of them?" I ask.
"I'm sorry, but I don't know any spells about dreams or any corporeal remedies. Have you tried dream suppressants?" She asks, putting down her sandwich.
"Yeah, but they didn't work at all." I reply. Describing the dreams that I've been having, Twilight's expression turned from one of curiosity to one of sorrow and disgust.
"I'm so sorry! I guess waiting it out doesn't work, either?" She asks.
"No...ugh. I think I just need some therapy." I tell her, and give a reassuring smile; she smiles back, her mouth half full of food and we both chuckle.
Later that evening, before leaving work, I get the 'graveyard' shift. I'll be the only employee on site for the entire night, at least until 7:30 A.M. when Mr. Albany comes to work. The usual night shift guy is sick with 'hoof and wing disease', so the job now falls onto me. Locking the door on her way out, the front desk pegasus flicked the front building lights on, illuminating any and all trespassers and/or escapees.
I had way too much busywork that night; a mountain of papers to fill with random bits of information of all ponies in the facility. Two hours later, at 12:25, my eyes begin to flutter and then shut. Four or five minutes later, I wake up, shaking and sweating; that same damn dream again! I put my head in my hooves and try to smack myself back to alertness. The tortured screams of pain and suffering had died down some in the hallway, but they are still very distracting and terrifying; I almost feel my brain pulsing whenever I hear them now.
"No. Come on, come on. It's just a dream. It---it's not real; I'm fine, everything is fine." I tell myself.
Insanity awaits...and all are welcome.
Suddenly, the screaming outside of my door stopped completely, leaving me with a few seconds of the unaltered bliss of silence before I finally realized what was replacing the moans and screams; whispers. Just like ones in the dream, but this time much louder. The whispers coming from both male and female ponies all around me, describing horrible things; baby foals being flayed open, ritualized cannibalism while the pony is still alive, and even necrophilia involving the cutting of appendages and consumption of the reproductive organs afterwards. The whispers kept going on for another hour, becoming more grotesque and... shockingly descriptive with each passing minute.
One hour later, the whispering stopped. With a loud 'bang', I violently slam my head down on my desk and sob softly, not because of the imagery of the whispers, but of the lack of knowledge of what's coming up next.
Somepony clears his throat and I look up and see...
Myself; giving me a big toothy, fang-filled grin with bloodshot eyes. I shriek in horror and fall out of my chair, crawling away from the apparition.
"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! YOU'RE NOT REAL!" I scream at the entity as I throw a stapler at it and miss. He turns his head at a 180 degree angle with a loud cracking sound to look at the broken stapler on the floor behind him. He then look back at me with the same cracking sound and smiles even wider, somewhat showing his blood caked molars.
Blood begins to flow freely from his tear ducts as he wavers slowly towards me. His side suddenly bursts open, sending blood and chunks of silver flesh in all directions. Organs are streaming out of the gaping hole, almost pushed out, at a slow pace. The blood spilling from his eyes has now turned into rivers of the crimson fluid.
"No...No, no, no, NO, NO!!" I scream at myself as he walks closer, the fluid from his eyes coagulating on the ground in deep, reflective pools of blood. I've gotten to my feet and I'm now backed into a corner.
The entity then grabs my arms with his front hooves. Squeezing my eyes shut, I scream with pure agony as a white hot burn envelopes my arms. I try to shake him off, but he's just too strong. He holds me for twenty seconds, the burning feels like each individual nerve is being plucked from my arms and then burned in a fire. Tears in my eyes, I finally sneak a glance at my tormentor, his smile now gone and replaced with a look of apathy.
"FFUUUUUUUUUUUCCKK!!!" I shriek at the top of my lungs, feeling that my inevitable doom is coming. I squeeze my eyes shut, expecting my skull to be crushed in by razor sharp fangs, but nothing happens. Arms beginning to numb, I finally gather up some courage and open my eyes. The entity has now let go of me and is backing towards the door, the same look of apathy in his blood red eyes.
The being turns around and opens the door into a blackened hallway. He steals one last look at me and smiles even bigger than before. His grin grows to the point where his cheeks cheeks tear apart, exposing his blood stained teeth and black, rotten gums. The rigid, torn gash where his cheeks used to connect is now gushing blood and small bits of skin hang down his chin. He then quickly gallops through the door and slams it behind him. The patient's normal groaning and moaning continuing.
I pass out in the corner.
Six hours later, I awake to Mr. Albany tapping me on the head with a rolled-up copy of 'Ponyville Daily'.
"Caxton. Caxton! You with me man?" He asks, a little worried and irritated. I open my mucus-caked eyes and stare at him with sadness and tiredness.
"Jeez. Looks like you had a late night. I'll let MacArthur fill your position today. Go home and get some shuteye." The giant, yellow pegasus gives me a fake, weak smile mixed with a look of worry.
I get up and stretch my aching legs and throbbing neck. Pops emit from my joints as I walk towards the end of the hallway, the patients aren't screaming, but staring at me with sorrow and confusion. I make my way into the foyer, where the guard ponies and nurse ponies begin their day with coffee and small conversations among themselves. They, however, stop their conversations and stare at me with sympathy. My bloodshot eyes and ghastly appearance was enough to shut anypony up.
I step onto the lawn outside and wait for several seconds, letting the fresh breeze cool my body.
"Hey, Ross. How was the graveyard shift?" Twilight calls out to me from afar; she was trotting up the hill with Spike on her back.
Both stop in front of me and I place my hoof on Twilight's shoulder. We stand there for thirty seconds as I look into her purple eyes. I then embrace her for several seconds. Letting her go, I look at her face, a look of confusion had swept over her and Spike. I then proceed to walk down the hill, stealing one last look at the crumbling establishment; I turn around completely to get a good, long look at Twilight and my place of occupation, when something horribly wrong catches my attention.
The entity...standing behind Twilight, his face still horribly disfigured from the night before. My pupils shrank to pinpricks and my lips curled into a look of pure terror mixed with apathy as Twilight and several other employees who were looking slowly approach me. The entity then comes up to me and places his hoof on my shoulder. I didn't care about the incessant burning, but I did look into his bloodshot, slightly pulsating eyes.
I saw the essence pure insanity; my formed the most horrific images that were far more grotesque than anypony could think of, or even dare to put into words. He takes his hoof off my shoulder, and with my last shreds of sanity finally plucked from my brain, I remember about a scalpel inside of my doctor's coat. I quickly take the scalpel in my hoof and hold it to my neck; Twilight, Spike, and the several employees are horrified.
"Ross! Please, don't!" Twilight pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes. Spike was hiding behind her, completely terrified.
A single tear dripped from Twilight's chin as I dragged the scalpel deep across my neck, effectively severing my jugular.
I lay on the ground during the last eleven seconds of life I have, gurgling with pain, the ground beneath me turning red and shiny. Twilight is to my left, who is uncontrollably sobbing. To my right, Spike, who quickly falls backwards, unconscious, and several employees, have looks of shock and sorrow fill their eyes as they lower their heads in respect for the soon to be deceased. The entity is with them, smiling wickedly and chuckling softly with my voice. At my final second of life, the entity opens his gaping maw, blood dribbling from the feeding apparatus, and with a roar of pure insanity digs his fangs into my dying eyes, and I was gone...