Alkatrot- Asylum for the Criminally Insane

by WeirdBeard

First published

Bronies... quite the interesting lot. Enthusiastic, excitable, and occasionally homicidal.

In the not-so-distant future, the government has established a specialized program for the more radical cases. Those particular individuals who had lost sense of reality and substituted it with their own. They claimed to be bronies, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. Now it's Doctor Hunt's job to help oversee treatment of psychopaths, criminals, and broniacs. Welcome to Alkatrot.

Evenin', Doctor Hunt

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Alkatrot- Asylum for the Criminally Insane
By: WeirdBeard
Editted by: DaAfroMan and MagicLlama (those classy gents)

"Audio journal of Doctor Matthias Hunt, October 21st, 2017. Progress here in the asylum is still non-existent. I thought we were making a breakthrough with Patient 17, Brian. However one of the night guards proved to be a bit more antagonistic than usual. Today is a general check-up for all patients, hopefully there will be some sort of positive result. End log."

Doctor Hunt shut off the recording device and set it on his desk. He rubbed his fatigue-stricken eyes with one hand and then stared at the clock. 8:46. There was still time until he officially had to begin, but he honestly didn't even want to be there. His office was curiously designed, being merged with another room deemed as his 'private quarters'. Essentially this meant that even when Doctor Hunt wasn't on call, he was still working.

Alkatrot was a hair-brained attempt (not to mention ridiculously named facility) by bureaucrats to contain and keep this latest uprising of bronies out of the news. The incidents throughout the world weren't organized per say, but there were connections and valid reasons to cause concern. There were the good fans of that show who contributed to society, but Alkatrot dealt with their polar opposites. The sick filth that had taken something innocent and twisted it to fit their own frightening motives. Needless to say, the asylum had its fair share of freaky.

Hunt pushed his chair away from the desk and stood up. Better get this over with, he thought.

As he opened his office door, a bald, gigantic guard immediately straightened up against the wall. "Doctor Hunt," he greeted with a slow nod. "Ready for the rounds?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, Jim," Hunt muttered. Lieutenant Jim Ryker was one of the few souls he could confide in here at Alkatrot. They had known each other back when they were EMT's in the city. They wouldn't admit it open, but they were the best at what they did at that time and the attention turned heads. Ryker was transferred to the local precinct while Hunt was hired by the hospital to continue medical training.

The two walked down the dimly lit hallway, the echoes of a storm resonating from outside. Hunt stole a glance out of one of the few windows, barred of course. It was down-pouring again and the sky was showcasing its seemingly permanent harsh, grey clouds that tempered the asylum. The ocean waves crashed against the rocky crags of the small island. Alkatrot was based far off from the mainland and situated in a terrible climate region. If Hunt knew even half of what all of the facility entailed when he was first brought on, he would have backed out in a heartbeat. Alas here he was, five years already spent at Alkatrot.

"I'll never get over how they can manage to afford these world-famous doctors, top-of-the-line security systems, the toughest guards around, but budget the building maintenance into a literal hell hole. It's like they want this place to match the scum we keep in here," Ryker spat. He pointed to the crumbling brick walls and the cracked floor tiles. "It's a disgrace."

Hunt felt something drip onto his neck. He brushed at the offending spot just below his short black hair and realized it was a raindrop. The ceiling revealed a great deal of water damage and several patches of poorly fixed drywall. There wasn't much knowledge on where exactly the island was located, but Hunt had researched that it was a private mansion long ago. How it exactly had become an asylum such as this was a mystery in itself. "I can't recall how many times we've had this conversation, Jim."

"C'mon Matthias, just look at this place. It's an abomination and radiates the filth of humanity. You may say that we're guarding the scum, but we're just as locked up as they are. All the secrecy and communication bans made sense at first so that the press didn't have a field day with this, but it gets shadier and shadier everyday we're in here," the lieutenant replied.

"I know, but-" Hunt paused when he noticed a gift-wrapped box under Ryker's arm. "Special occasion?"

Ryker nodded. "It's my son's birthday. He's turning nine today."

Hunt stopped in mid-stride and grabbed his friend's shoulder. "What are you still doing here? Didn't you get leave from the warden?"

"He canceled it last night. Said we needed to be fully staffed today because of something special. Whatever that means. I just gotta mail this off," he said as he gently inserted the gift into the post office receptacle. The post official, a grim and emotionless woman, glared at them from behind the office windows. She examined the gift and placed it within her scanning machine. After a few resulting beeps from the machine and indifferent sighs from her, the post official nodded in confirmation.

While the pay was enough to last multiple retirements for one worker, the catches and loopholes of working at the asylum were more than just a little strange. There were allowances of off-duty leave for families and other necessities, but the code of silence was enforced very strictly. Too many 'accidents' in the past. Lieutenant Ryker had visited his wife and son a few times for the two years he had served at Alkatrot, but Hunt knew that wasn't enough to keep a family stable. Even with the comfortable living that was now available to the Ryker home.

Hunt couldn't relate with him on this however, as he himself had never 'settled down' at all. The timing of med school, work, and now the asylum conflicted with any current hope of courtship. He had been stationed at the asylum for five years now, but he hadn't moved up any succession ladder since arriving. Hunt was content with his duties though; his lifelong aspiration of curing the incurable drove him along.

Ryker prodded the doctor from his train of thought. "Let's just start up the visits and get them over with, maybe we can grab some drinks from the warden's pub after."

Hunt nodded and continued to their first stop.


"October 21st, 2017. Time is currently 9:06 am. This is Day 107 for Patient 20, here at Alkatrot Asylum. How are you today, Iris?" Hunt asked the prisoner in front of him. He had set up his camera for another video log while she stared coldly at him. Iris' hair was completely askew, years of strange dye had transformed it into a mishmash of dark color. It was eerily similar to a child's watercolor paint set when they forget to clean out the pads.

"That's not my name. You don't care about me, doc," Iris stated. "Stop acting like you do. It's all just a ****ing lie."

Hunt leaned forward and placed his forearms on the cold, steel table. Ryker stood behind him, arms folded and back against the wall. "Iris, we'll get nowhere with that attitude. I'm trying to help you."

Iris narrowed her eyes and glared at him. "Help me? Help me?! You call caging me up in here helping me?!"

"You were a danger to yourself and others, Iris," I calmly replied. Iris was an adrenaline junkie back on the mainland and had stolen dozens of high-end luxury vehicles. Her speed and recklessness had caused multiple cases of vehicular manslaughter. But that was after she became what she is now. "Maybe one day we can find the real you before you started watchi-"

"No!" she screamed. "I've always been like this. I just didn't know it until they helped me realize. I won't betray them! I won't turn my back on them!" Iris' mood had escalated greatly and she pounded on the table.

Ryker moved forward, but I held up a hand to stop him. "No one's betraying anyone, Iris."

Iris kept her piercing glare even as she sank back into her chair. "I'm done talking today."


"Oh yeah, there's definitely hope for them. A few lethal injections will solve all their problems," Ryker quipped as they walked to their next patient's room. A few guards saluted him as we walked by and then immediately returned to their resolute stances.

Hunt sighed and put away his case notes. "Look, I know that it looks like we're not making any progress, but this takes A LOT of time. When I first arrived here Iris wouldn't even speak. If we don't put hope in this, then no one will." They arrived at the room of Patient 88 only to find that the door was unguarded. "Where's this division's guard?"

"That miserable...FLEMING! Report, why are you not at your post?!" Ryker barked into his radio comm. A painful scream sounded from inside the room. He sprung into action and slammed against the door. As Ryker burst through, a surprised guard looked up at him from the patient's bed. He was holding her down while she struggled, his belt now undone.

"It's not what it looks like, I'm just following orders!" Fleming exclaimed up at Ryker.

"The hell you are!" Ryker shouted. He grabbed the subordinate and threw him headfirst against the hard wall. The impact knocked him unconscious and he lay motionless on the concrete floor. Ryker breathed heavily and paused for a moment before cuffing him.

"Now now, Lieutenant, play nice," a deep voice commanded from a corner of the room. Ryker and Hunt turned quickly around to find their superior eyeing them cautiously.

"Warden Adams? What's going on here?!" Hunt asked accusingly while attending to the distraught girl. "Did you authorize this?!"

The warden clicked his tongue a few times. "Just a little experiment on how far a lie can really go. It appears our dear Patient 88 is rather truthful after all."

"You've done some crazy **** in here, Warden, but this is beyond unethical. She's still human!" Ryker yelled, approaching the warden very closely.

"That can be debated, Lieutenant, stand down," Adams coolly responded. "Finish up your visits, Hunt. I want you in my office immediately after you've done."

Hunt glared at the warden as he departed the room. He turned his attention back to Patient 88. "Are you alright, Jackie?"

She finally looked at him past her long, blonde hair with teary eyes. "I don't want to talk today," she whispered. Jackie returned to her bed and curled up weakly.


"We have to do something, Hunt! We've turned the blind eye away, but we can't keep doing that. It was just a joke at first, but I think Warden Adams really is going nuts. He's playing with lives here and we simply ignored it as patient treatment," Ryker whispered.

The two were on their way to the last visit, a trio of 'sisters'. They weren't related at all, but had done everything together as children. When they were first incarcerated at Alkatrot, the intended separation of the three caused more trouble than initially anticipated. Instead, Warden Adams allowed them to stay in the same room as some twisted favor. Their instabilities were much more controllable when they were together.

"I know!" Hunt replied. "There's nothing that we can do though. We don't have enough evidence to prove anything and we can't draw any attention to what we're doing. This island doesn't exist and whoever is truly funding all of this wants to keep it that way."

Ryker shook his head. "So what do we do then?"

"We just need to lay low for now, keep the patients safe from Adams. Sooner or later something will pop up and we'll be able to expose him. Here's their room, let's go," Hunt explained. He nodded to the guard and entered, with Ryker closely following.

"Good morning, Doctor!" the three patients exclaimed in unison. They cheerfully smiled at Hunt from their seats around the table. Their demeanor was a stark contrast to the other patients in the asylum. However, the more time Hunt spent with them, the more he could see why there were in there. They may have appeared innocent, but that certainly wasn't the case with their actions on the mainland. Poisoning the occupants of a bakery, unleashing dangerous animals in the city, and... unspeakable crimes involving a fabric warehouse. Which was why it was best to stay professional around Patients 132, 133, and 134.

"Good morning," he repeated. "How are you feeling today?"

"Fantastic! We were thinking of having a party by braiding Cheyenne's hair, right Alayna?" Cora asked as she twirled her messy hair in her finger. She was the more outspoken of the trio. Her incessant desire for fun had brought them to Alkatrot; she caused uproars at every other prison they were sent to.

Alayna nodded. "Quite right, my dear. It's going to look beautiful when we're done," she said. Alayna was also very unique; somehow she kept herself clean and proper despite their environment. She had developed an interesting posh attitude since they arrived.

"Oh, you two don't have to do that, it's fine," Cheyenne whispered. Her long, thick hair covered most of her facial features, but Hunt could see that she was rather timid as usual. "Can I get the chair for you, Doctor?" she asked as she pulled out his usual seat.

Hunt was about to respond, but a shrill crackle from the PA interrupted him. "Doctor Hunt, you're needed in Warden Adams' office immediately," a dry voice spoke.

"I haven't completed my visits yet, tell him to wait," the doctor replied.

"Now," commanded the speaker.

Hunt shook his head, but walked back to the door. "I'll be back soon."


"A new patient?!" Hunt yelled. "Why weren't we told about this earlier?!"

Warden Adams leaned back in his chair and placed his hands together candidly. Lieutenant Ryker had returned to his supervising duties in the control room. Adams brushed his greasy, balding hair back and stared back at him. "Does it matter, Doctor Hunt? I pulled a lot of strings to bring her here. Who knows, maybe she'll be the one wretched soul you save in here," he coldly stated. The warden tossed a file onto the desk. "She's just arrived now, better prep up as you'll be first to check her in."

"If you think that-"

"Walk with me, Matthias, we don't have all day," he quickly retorted. Adams abruptly stood up and marched out the door. Hunt followed begrudgingly behind him while examining the file. "Patient 742. She's been on the run for a long time now, but we caught her in the Aztec ruins two days ago. Real identity is unknown, calls herself Tasha. Yeah, the crazy magician. Ah', there she is now."

As the warden said this, Hunt glanced up. They were viewing a brightly lit room from a two-way mirror as a young lady was carted in. She was strapped in a strait-jacket along with a mask over her jaw. Hunt didn't know how, but it felt like she was staring directly at him. This frightened him.

"Okay then, let's begin," Adams said and pushed Hunt into the interview room. Hunt quickly regained his balance and approached the patient. Her eyes were blood-shot and darted across her surroundings.

Hunt waved his hand to get her attention. "Tasha? I'm Doctor Hunt, I'm here to help you." Tasha was silent for a moment before she whispered something inaudible.

"Pardon?" the doctor asked. She whispered again, but it was still just as quiet. Hunt approached her slowly and leaned forward to hear her better. "One more time, please?"

"I said, I'm going to kill you last."

The electricity suddenly went out.


Hunt awoke with a splitting headache. The emergency lights had kicked on, but it was very dark in the interrogation room. He could faintly hear shrill alarms and gunfire from beyond the door, but his senses were still weakened from head trauma.

The recent occurrence came to his memory and caused him to push up immediately from the floor. This action proved to be too painful for him and he collapsed back down. However, his impact was softened by something else on the floor. Hunt reached around at the object and realized it was a person. More specifically, it was the corpse of Warden Adams.

The door slammed open and a bright light blinded Hunt. "Matt! Oh thank God, I thought you were dead when I heard you were here at the uprising," Ryker said as he pulled the doctor to his feet.

Hunt looked at him confusedly. "Uprising? What's going on?"

"That new patient broke our security system. All of the prisoners have escaped, the guards are being overtaken, and every mode of escape was destroyed when Adams died!" Ryker exclaimed. He led his friend through corridor after corridor in search of a safe room.

"That's impossible. There has to be-"

"There isn't, he had a fail-safe installed in case he perished here. We have t-GUK!"

A crimson-stained blade protruded from Ryker's chest. He touched the wound in shock and looked back at Hunt. He opened his mouth, but could only wordlessly gasp before he collapsed. "Jim!" Hunt cried out. He glanced down the hallway to see dozens of patients approaching him. Hunt grabbed Ryker's pistol and shouted, "Get away!"

The mob proceeded forward, slowly ambling toward the doctor. He fired a warning shot at their feet, but they continued anyway. "Stop!" Hunt yelled.

A disturbing melody was soon chanted among the patients as they neared him. "My little pony, I used to wonder what friendship could be," they droned.

"STAY BACK!" Hunt shouted even louder. He pulled the trigger on the sidearm at the nearest patient, crippling him. "I'm warning you!"

"My little pony, until you all shared its magic with me," their haunting tune continued.

BANG. BANG. BANG. The sounds of his weapon echoed through the hallway. Hunt effectively crippled three more, but they marched onward.

"AAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!" he screamed in pain as a knife was plunged into his shoulder from behind. Hunt turned around to see Iris snarling at him.

"Big adventure," she snidely said.

Another knife pierced his side and Cora walked into view. "Tons of fun!"

"A beautiful heart," Alayna replied before stabbing one more into Hunt's chest.

Hunt gritted his teeth from the immense pain. He shouted again when Jackie drove another knife into his arm. "Faithful and strong."

"Sharing kindness, it's an easy feat," Cheyenne sang as she drove her knife into his thigh. Hunt collapsed onto his knees and looked up at his murderers. The circle filled in with one more patient as Tasha slashed his throat.

"And magic makes it all complete," she finished.

The deep cut bled profusely. Doctor Hunt's eyes rolled in their sockets from the shock. The six patients huddled together and sang, "You have my little ponies."

Hunt somehow regained his senses for a moment for the last thing he would see alive. It was truly horrifying as they hugged each other and Tasha whispered,

"Do you know you're all my very best friends?"