The air was a biting cold, and the wind was blowing the harsh winter snow everywhere. It was so hard to see that the driver of the delivery wagon nearly missed the drop-off area and crashed into the walls. Winters in Stalliongrad had always been harsh, as far back as anypony could remember, but this was by far the worst in decades.The snow was as high as four hooves deep in some places and ponies had been dug out of the snow, frozen to death. No place in all of Equestria had it worse off than Equestrian Acres, a literal madhouse of torture. Anypony who had been sent here was there because everypony else had deemed them as insane, unfit to live outside the confines of this nightmarish camp. The sanitarium was the worst known fate to anypony in all of Equestria. Even the dreaded Rainbow Factory up in Cloudsdale was more humane than this. In the Factory, death came quickly, but here in Equestrian Acres, death could never come quick enough. Innocent ponies were sent to this awful place, and transformed into psychopaths, maniacs, mere shadows of their former selves. Very few patients survived, and those who did came out worse off than when they went in. Drooling, maniacal monsters, driven to a point beyond repair by what was supposed to help them.

The delivery wagon skidded to a stop, the wheels crunching the snow and frozen bones beneath them. Unicorn guards, clad in heavy padded suits and wearing gas masks, approached the back of the wagon. With a countdown, two guards swung open the doors while two others quickly snared the prisoner from inside. Their horns were glowing an eerie green, sparks flying, ready to stun their captive if they needed to.

"Take her to the confinement area." ordered one of the muffled voices. The team of guards escorted their prisoner past the gate. The pink pony looked around for a few moments, taking notice of the razor wire lining the fences and how it shone in the light of the guard towers. She heard timber-wolves howling in the distance and looked up to see the most beautiful full moon she had ever laid eyes on. Little did she know that it would be the last one she would see for a very long time. Suddenly, she was brought back to reality by a sudden shock in her flank, as one of the guards jabbed his electrified horn into the prisoners flank. Her muscles snapped tight and she dropped to floor.

"Get the hell up! Let's go, worm!" barked one of the guards through his mask, yanking her up swiftly by the mane. Her vision was slightly hazy but she could see the guard's eyes. They were a deep, unnatural, green color, and radiated a terrifying aura. The prisoner struggled on, hoping to avoid any more shocks. They walked onward into the steel doors of the main facility, an old worn out building made of brick and lit only by a few lanterns.

"Pinkamena Diane Pie?" the guard captain asked. The voice was soft and almost inviting, a startling contrast to the terrifying, muffled, growl of the others. Pinkie's mind wandered back and forth, trying to figure out why the captain seemed so familiar, until she felt another jolt, this time in her back. It was worse than the first one, causing her to yell out sharply, her cries echoing in the hall.

"Let's get going, you worthless filly!" The guards shoved their prisoner onward, through the dark gloomy halls. The farther they walked, the more she began to realize what she was getting into. She noticed dark red stains all over the stone floor and strange shadows looming everywhere. But what scared her the most wasn't the bones on the floor, or the broken needles and surgical tools lying around, but a message scrawled on the wall before her.

"It's been days, weeks, months, hell who knows anymore? Time could be standing still for all I know. It's killing me though, that much I'm sure of. The longer I stay here, the farther it's icy fingers pierce into my soul. I pray for death, freedom, anything. Just set me free. I have to get away from here. They say this is for my own good, but I know they just don't want me anymore. It hurts to think now, each thought is another needle in my brain, bouncing from one wall to another. Please, just let... it... stop..."

The last word was smeared on the wall, the streak of ink sliding down the wall to the limp body of some unfortunate pony. He had written his final words in his own blood. "Suicide," said one of the guards indifferently, "He'd bitten his wrist open, died of blood loss. There wouldn't have been a damn thing we could have done to stop him." Sure enough, Pinkie saw a ragged chunk of flesh, wet with saliva, lying on the floor. She wanted to vomit, but stopped herself just in time. She couldn't take another shock, it was just too much.

"Drag the corpse out of here, this is where the new one stays." ordered the supervisor. As the guards dragged the body away, Pinkie wanted to cry for the poor soul, but she just couldn't find the tears inside her. The shock of what she had seen already was too much to bear. Her mind raced and she started to panic. Another sharp pain in her right flank brought her back into focus.

"Hush now, quiet now, it's time to go to bed..." the last guard said softly. The captain's eyes weren't the same unnatural green as the others, they were darker, almost blue-green. "Give it a few minutes, and you'll be alright." The guard slipped out, and Pinkie swore she saw a light pink flash as the heavy steel door slammed shut and the guards locked it up. She didn't have much time to think about what she saw though. "Why am I here? What is this place? Why is this allowed to happen?" she sobbed, tears finally flowing out of her eyes. Suddenly, the room spun, her eyelids grew heavy, and she was out cold.