The Town That Was Crazy

By Master Cheese Cake

WARNING: This is rated M for violent scenes and minor cussing that may be too much for some readers and may cause some to have nightmares. This has no characters main character in this either if that helps, but many OCs. You have been warned fairly.

Everything about this place had terror written all over it. The screams and the whispers of despair had made it all more than just a nightmare. The smell of old mossed bricks and rotting wood lingered in the air, along with death being present. Everything went silent for a moment as footsteps got louder and louder with each and every step.

Their shadows could be recognized by many as the light of a torch flickered from behind. In came two colts carrying another colt on their backs. One opens a barred door and the other threw the colt off of his back. Then they both leave the room and when their shadows disappeared, the others began to speak.

“We’re all going to die!” one started.

“I’m never going to see my family again.”

“My fellow colts and ponies calm yourselves we are all going to make it through this, I assure you this.”

An old stallion walked out from the shadows, “Are you crazy boy? It’s been days, and I’m pretty sure anypony who stumbles on this place is as good as dead just... just like us.”

“No Gray, we must not give up hope for it is the only thing that will keep us going. They are finding more colts and ponies everyday which means we can weaken their numbers and escape.”

“Just give up Flanker. There is no use in fighting anymore.”

Everypony just went back, deeper into their cells to rot, knowing that Gray was right, even Flanker started to lose hope of rescue from this god forsaken place. He did the same as the others, went back into the depths of darkness.

“Marry, is he okay?” Flanker sat down.

“Yes, but they did the same thing they did to us. Cut off our wings.”

“Damn, I was sure they would slip up on that.”

“No, they’re too smart and too precise to forget.” Marry moves over to Flanker.

The newcomer sat up, “Ugh, where am I?”
“Hey there buddy take it easy,” Flanker requested. “You been through a lot. What is your name friend?”

Pain rushed to the newcomer’s head. “Ah!”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I think my... I think my name is... is Buster. What’s going on... how the hell did I get here?”

“Probably the same way as...” Flanker felt a hoof press down on his back.

“Get down they’re here.” Marry announced.

They all instantly drop on their stomachs to avoid drawing attention to their cell.

There were five of them, one of them was just a brute with muscles the size of a fully grown stallions head, he had a black mask covering his head all around, along with a matching apron to make the perfect executioner outfit. Probably the most threatening cause of his axe that rested on his back.

Two colts stood guard as the other two dragged one of the prisoners out of the cells and she fought back as much as she could, but couldn’t match the strength of the two colts. Then a yellow colt jumps out and tries to rescue his damsel from their clutching grips. Inevitably he was stopped by the tank before he could make a move.

He was held by his neck, pressed against the wall, trying to kick his way out, but it was useless.

“What should we do with him?” asked the executioner.

“Feed him to the freaks, Grey-Mane doesn’t like rebels.”

They all could just see the smile under the mask of the executioner when he heard that. He stab the colt onto a meat hook on the wall. He went to get a thin block of stone and then he pulled on a chain, opening the grate in the center of the room.

“What the hell is going on?” Buster whispered.

Flanker took his attention away. “Feeding him to mindless ones, none of us ever get to see what they look like for more than a few seconds.”

“No please don’t hurt him! Please please don’t hurt him.” the mare begged.

The ripped stallion continued his work, he placed that slab of stone on the edge of the hole. The colt was ripped from the hook, tearing off a chunk of muscle from his back. The executioner stood on his hind legs, he didn’t have any trouble trying to balance on hind legs at all. Then he removed the axe from its leather holster, did some practice swings and now he was ready to go on for the kill.

“NOOOOO!” the mare screamed as the axe came down on her lover.

The mare began to weep as her lover’s blood landed on her body, then the stallion dispose of the body by pushing it down the hole. It seemed that she gave up on life, she just sat there, lifeless and let the two colts drag her off sight.

“Where are they taking her?” asked Buster.

Before Flanker could even answer that question, more than ten colts, ponies and some zebras come marching into the room. They all lined up on the walls of the room and stood waiting for an old zebra stallion to enter.

He stopped before the grate, clearing his throat. “Greeting my fellow guest. I am your host Grey-Mane and today is the day of our great feast and you’re all part of this very graceful event. I understand that you have all been treated wrongly and feel misery, but do not worry we’re here to end it for you.”

“Wrongly?” Flanker spoke out. “More like cruelly, you kill us with no remorse and then feed us to your so called “freaks”.”

“Yeah it’s true.” the others agreed.

“I’ve had enough of this. Guards! Clear those two cells and take each of them to their rooms.”

The guards did as he commanded, they unlocked the cells and rushed in, grabbing everypony. Flanker wouldn’t let them take him without a fight, he jabbed them and kick them, but in the end they got him under control. Buster surrendered willingly and so did Marry.

Finally the guards got Flanker under control, they cuffed them, then laid them out on the grates with the others.

“Don’t worry it won’t take long. Move them to their rooms.” Grey-Mane ordered.

They began to drag them through the old, murky tunnels and when they came to a intersection of six other tunnels, they separated them, each pair of guards took a different tunnel.

Buster surveyed the area, looking for any possible escape routes in their tunnels. They almost passed over a drainage grate, but they turned into a room. The room was well lit with lanterns that hung from the walls, he could see that they have something greatly planned for him when he saw a wooden board with metal cuffs on the corners.

They placed him onto this restrainer and locked the metal cuffs around all of his legs, then made sure they were on tight. As they left, two zebras with lab coats entered into the room with a trolley and on top, was covered in medical appliances.

They left equipment next to Buster just to give him a preview of what they had in store for him. When the zebras sat a table full of ingredients Buster began to struggle, trying to break free from his bonds.

“Don’t try it bud.” one said. “Hey, how much orange juice are we suppose to use?”

“Five hundred milliliters but make sure it’s one point five molar concentration.”

While they were talking, Buster looked at his cuffs and found out that the right fore leg cuff had weaken, rotting wood underneath the nails. He concentrated his energy on that cuff, he pushed and he could feel the nails slowly escape the wood. Then it finally left the wooden board completely, he grabbed the cuff on his left and began to pull with all of his might.

“Okay the orange juice is ready. I’m going to inject it into him.”

“Alright, I’ll keep working on the gravy.”

The zebra carried the orange juice vile in his mouth, being careful not to spill any of it. He stopped at the trolley and opened a compartment at the very bottom. Surprise took his face, he place the vile on the ground and searched everywhere on the trolley.

“Where’s that surgical tube?” he mumbled to himself.

Then he finally notices that Buster was gone, one cuff was missing and the remaining cuff opened.

“We...” he began to gasp for air as something was crushing his windpipe.

Buster waited till he stopped moving and then unraveled the surgical tube from his neck. Then he began his sneak toward the other zebra at the table. Just before he could strangle the final zebra. He turned around with a kitchen knife and cut the surgical tube. Buster was caught off guard and struggled to get up on his hooves. He squirm back as the zebra attempted to impales him, the knife got stuck in between the brick floor. Buster rolled over on his stomach and crawled his way to the vile of orange juice. The zebra freed his knife and charged at Buster for the kill, but before he could lunge into the colt, he got a face full of orange juice.

“AAAAAAH! MY EYES! MY EYES! THEY BURN!” he screamed.

Buster had to silence him, he picked up the knife, tackled him the ground, covered his muzzle, placed the knife at his neck and gutted it. Buster knew it was only a matter of time when guards would enter. He went over to the table and flipped it over so it would block the door. He dragged both bodies to the door along with the trolley.

Then he heard the noise of thuds on the door. “The door is barricaded, get the battering ram!”

Buster looked around for an exit point and he found one, right under the wooden board he was pinned to. He kneels down to open it, but it had a lock on it. He tried to pick it with the kitchen knife, but it had no effect. Then he heard wood splinter, he peeked around to find that they have smashed a hole right in the door.

“Crossbows!” one yelled.

Arrow tips filled the hole. “Fire!”

Then arrows lunged forward and toward Buster, some bounce off the floor while others struck the wooden restraint table. He couldn’t risk the chance of a stray arrow injuring him or even kill, so he grabbed a lantern while they reloaded and threw it on the barricade causing a fire to start. The fire spread rapidly causing the guards to back away from the door and retreat.

Buster went back to the lock he just smashed it with his right wrist. The cuff on his wrist succeeded in loosening the lock mechanism, he removed it and drop down.

“Damn it!” He cursed as he landed. He underestimated the height of the drop and had dislocated his shoulder.

“Okay... okay I can do this. Aaaah!” He relocated it back into its socket.

His echos of pain bounced off the walls and travelled into the depth of this evil place. Buster stood up and began to walk aimlessly in this horrid sewer system, hoping to get him to freedom, but all of a sudden another painstaking headache attacked his mind.

He could remember something that a pony said. “They can hear. They can smell. But they cannot see.”

Before he could stand up he heard a high pitched screech come from behind. He turned his head to see something ominous to nature. It was a stallion that had decayed lips, showing its serrated, razor sharp teeth, it’s hooves were no longer what they were, but bone growing out of it’s skin to create claws that can tear through flesh, it had decaying tissue patches all around it’s body and its eyes weren’t even there, but had dried up retinal vessels dangling out from its eye sockets.

It moved its head around trying to find a scent of food around the vicinity. Once it had a lock the scent, it pounced on the wall and began to crawl toward Buster. Buster ran deeper into sewers, he took lefts and rights not caring where he went. Then he turned a corner to meet the exact thing that he wanted to avoid. It pounced on him and dug its claw into his skin, but Buster wouldn’t give let it end this way, he hit it in the side of its head hard enough to knock it off balance an fall in the sewage water. He got up expecting it to make another strike, but it didn’t. It had drowned in the sewage.

Then he heard more high pitched screeches, he looked in the direction it came from and he saw an army of these monstrosity creeping their way to toward Buster.

First time shooting at the grimdark genre.