Fallout: Equestria, Darkness Falls

Entry 1: Personal log of Dr. Curette; M.D. Ph.D & R.T

Finally! I’ve got my own clinic! And in a Stable, no less! While it was wonderful to work at the Stalliongrad branch of the Fluttershy Medical Clinic, it was full of snooty ‘baby doctors’. And not to mention the paranoia of the war effort and Pinkie's ponies always breathing down everyone’s neck. Only reason I can even type this is because Stables are on their own closed network, otherwise I’d probably be charged with sedition or some such nonsense. Though I have to wonder why the Stable was ordered to close when no Omega alert was given. Odd, but I’m sure things will be answered in due time. There’s an email from Overmare Tinkle Berry, announcing a Stable-wide meeting in the atrium later today.

But enough of that. I want to gush about this clinic! It’s practically unheard of for a doctor my age to have their own clinic! And it’s all mine! I really wish there was something in these terminals that could represent a ‘squee’. Thirty four state-of-the-art beds, the latest models from the Ministry of Peace. A huge stockpile of drugs; medicines, vaccines, healing potions (also with the expensive supers!), and we even have a pair of the latest model Autodoc for complex surgeries. Though this is an inventory closer to what a small hospital would carry, so what warrants having this much on hand? Perhaps I will get a chance to ask Overmare Tinkle Berry today.

Somepony just walked in…

And I just learned I have an assistant! Me? An assistant! Yes!! This is a good day!

Entry 2: Well, I now know why we have such an enormous stockpile and advanced equipment. Now I’m worried if we’ll have enough, given what was added to Stable 68’s standard loadout. Apparently the higher ups decided to add in an excavation division to the Stable’s normal operations and as a result the medical wing was expanded. The Stable’s population is now 875, about three hundred and fifty heavier than what we were originally slated for. At least somepony upstairs showed some common sense. Excavation, as far as I know, is more dangerous than other occupations and injuries are bound to happen. I let my assistant, Mayberry, know that we might see some gruesome stuff (of course I pray that doesn’t happen). Though I imagine everypony is trained extensively and knows what they’re doing.

Regardless of what the higher ups at Stable-tec and M.A.R.S. decide to do, it just means I get to do more of what I love.

Entry 5: Mayberry and I got our first slew of patients today. True to what I told her one sleepy week ago, we got a fairly gruesome case. Seven miners were injured when a drill bit malfunctioned. Part of said drill sheared off and sent bits of metal and rock flying about like shrapnel, comparable to a fragmentation grenade (a common injury among soldiers fighting in Stalliongrad, and nothing I haven’t seen before at SFMC). However one unfortunate buck by the name of Granite was decapitated when the largest piece flew at him like a boomerang. I sent Mayberry home after taking the body down to the morgue; it was justified as we haven’t seen anything after that one incident and I could tell she needed a break. And since the Autodoc needed a test drive, I had them handle the deeper shrapnel wounds while I fished around the others with a pair of tweezers, and boy I can say… some fully-grown stallions definitely whine a lot more than mares.

That said I do have some concerns that I plan to bring up with Overmare Tinkle Berry. I’m not sure who hired the teams to work the excavation, but their medical records have some… concerning implications. Yes, yes, I know we’re technically not supposed to look through other ponies’ medical records without the need-to-know, but how am I supposed to take care of my patients if I don’t know their history? Plus there was an entire week of not so much as a stuffy nose walking through here.

Many of these ponies selected for the excavation have a tendency towards drug addiction, through a wide spectrum of substances; anywhere from things as simple as alcohol abuse and/or excessive smoking, and some who got into taking the harder stuff like Dash, Buck, and even those little mints that (somehow) make it into Equestria under Princess Luna’s nose (I’ve seen enough addicts to know the signs). Anywho, my concern is keeping my stockpile of drugs safe from those who would steal them for ‘personal use’. It would be a good idea to lock them up further, because the last thing I want is to have somepony stealing medicine supplies to get their fix, then find their dead body somewhere in the Stable because they overdosed.

Entry 9: This is getting out of hand!

I prefer to be busy rather than sitting on my flank, but this is crazy! Ever since that first incident, things have steadily gotten wore with each more horrifying than the last. Ponies disemboweled, others with their faces shredded, more with crushed bodies, et cetera! By my latest count, the morgue has thirty eight bodies and we’ve had hundreds of injury cases, some ponies are crippled to the point of being a vegetable by their injuries. There were a few times my clinic was so full that Mayberry and I had no choice but to serve patients on the floor, which is absolutely unacceptable!

And if that weren’t enough already, a new bug is going around the stable. The first case was two weeks ago, a mare by the name of Sunny Dale complaining about severe pain in her left foreleg knee joint. Radiographs revealed an aggressive bacterial infection tainting the bursa of her knee, and I had to inform her that she was going to lose her limb. Of course she wasn’t happy, but when I explained the infection could spread to her major organs, her tune changed enough to allow the procedure. I’m making a note to get further studies and exams on others done at an earlier time. Perhaps earlier detection could lead to fewer amputations.

And one more thing. I have my suspicions, even though Sunny Dale denies it, that the infection may have been brought on by use of intravenous drug use, as there was evidence of injections around her knee. Her medical file also states that she used to inject a liquid form of the drug ‘Hydra’, so it’s likely a long-term side effect of that particular drug.

But there is a matter of greater concern. Many of the ponies involved in the excavation are growing agitated by the staggering injury and death rate. Personally I don’t blame them, but if safety measure do not improve, then I worry about the outcome.

Entry 11: And, of course, nothing has improved despite my multiple protests at the stable head meetings. I bring the inexcusable accidents up every time and I’m always brushed off or stonewalled with: “We’re working on it” or “Safety measures are being improved” and “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”

Do they think I’m stupid or something? Do they think the ponies in excavation aren’t taking extreme exception to their pony-pies? Just last week a bunch of angry excavator ponies vandalized two carts of lab equipment that were bound for mineral testing in the site. And before that, other miners destroyed the science team’s bathroom. Slatehoof, head of excavation operations is trying to keep them under control, but he is one pony and he cannot stave off the rising tensions for much longer. Especially when his much angrier counterpart, Chief Engineer Quartz, is a hot-headed mare that just doesn’t know the meaning of ‘patience’ and ‘peace’. I imagine the only reason none of that ire has turned my way is because Mayberry and I are the only ones taking care of their injured ponies. But for how much longer as the death toll rises?

And if that wasn’t bad enough, the infections are getting worse and more frequent. Suffice to say I now believe Sunny Dale when she said she hasn’t used any drugs, as other patients - some with no history of drug abuse - have contracted the same sort of infection. I’m not a biologist, but I took some samples from Sunny Dale (the poor mare passed away two weeks after her amputation, as the infection had already metastasized to some major organs) to analyze. It’s remarkably simple in structure, like a virus, but contains organelles, cytoplasm, and an excessive amount of mitochondria, but no nucleus or detectable DNA despite using every dye test under the sun. So I can’t make heads or tails of it. I’ve sent a sample to the science team for analysis with the hopes they can help me synthesize a vaccine.

Entry 13: I’m scared now.

Slatehoof is dead. Nopony knows exactly what happened. He and Quartz organized a protest to force the Overmare into improving safety in the excavation site, but violence broke out somehow and some trigger happy pony in Security fired a shot. It definitely wasn’t a peaceful protest from what I heard, as Quartz was egging everypony on and riling them up, but for Slatehoof to be killed like that? Didn’t even get a chance to save him. Bullet severed his femoral artery in his abdomen and that was it. Mayberry and I attempted a quick surgery to clamp off the artery, but it tore and retracted up into his pelvis. At that point we just couldn’t get it and he bled out within two minutes.

Now the Stable is thoroughly divided. Security has enforced curfew and martial law in the sections they can strongly control. Quartz had taken the rest. I’ve already had armed squads from each faction visit and basically threatened me and Mayberry to choose a side. The Overmare and the Security Chief have ‘reminded’ me of my loyalty to Equestria, Stable-tec and M.A.R.S. and with ‘we cannot guarantee your safety’ if I don’t yada-yada. And of course, Quartz’s ponies attempted to guilt trip me; if I don’t join their cause then I don’t care about Slatehoof and all the ponies who died in my clinic. Preposterous. I told them both: medicine doesn’t discriminate, and I reminded them that this was Fluttershy’s belief and the foundation of the Ministry of Peace itself.

I wish I had better news on the medical sides of things. Almost a quarter of the stable has this strange infection now. I’m having to turn away the most fit ponies because I just don’t have room. Mayberry and I haven’t left the clinic in nearly two weeks and I haven’t slept in three days, we’ve been so busy. At least it may have paid off… kinda. I’ve programmed the autodoc with a new surgery capable of cleansing the infection… as long as it’s in its earliest stage and even then it’s less than a 30% success rate, it’s the best I could do sadly. Any longer than that and the surgery’s risk far outweighs the benefit. Attempted it on a deathbed pony and he passed within the first hour of the five hour surgery. It’s too complicated a procedure for Mayberry and myself to attempt and we only have two audodocs to use at a time. Take the limited equipment, times the number of infected ponies, minus the ones that are too late to save and factor in the bizarre rate at which ponies are becoming infected… and we’re screwed. I pray every day that the science team shows up at my door and says they have a cure we can make, but I’ve heard nothing from them in weeks.

Many ponies want us to open the stable doors, try to get help for the sick and to defuse the small war being fought by Security and the engineering ponies. However, we cannot do that. Months ago, in a private meeting between the heads of the departments and before Slatehoof died, sensors detected the distant tremors of megaspells detonating on the other side of Canterlot mountain and as far away as Hoofington. The external geiger counters have detected magic-radiation that exceeds survivable levels by over 4,000%. In short, we go outside we die, so that is not an option.

What is going on in this stable? Why is this happening? I no longer believe this is coincidence. Why else would the well-being of our ponies not be the top priority? Isn’t that why we built these coffins in the first place!?

Entry 14: The Stable is dead.

I’ve locked the door. Fighting has been ravaging the stable, but it’s not security and engineering that is doing the fighting, no… I wish it was that simple.

I was taking the latest batch of corpses down to the morgue and when I opened the door… the things were alive! Sunny Dale and the earliest victims of the infection were ALIVE! The clinic had slowed in that last few days as I hadn’t had any new patients. I thought that maybe things were finally calming down, but no, it’s because these monstrosities were killing everypony!

Bless Security Chief Summer Star… I would be dead if it weren’t for him. Moments after I got back to the clinic and locked the door, the Overmare announced over the PA that everypony should stay in their homes. That was two days ago. Mayberry left. She had to go to her family despite my begging her to stay.

The monsters seem to be attracted by sound. One clawed at the door a few hours ago and I shut everything off and hid. It’s been quiet since. Every now and again the intercom would burp to life with screams for help, then die again. The last message was almost two days ago. Everyone is dying around me in this nightmare and there’s nothing I can do…

Entry 15: It’s several days later and this will be my last entry. The small stockpile of food finally ran out. The water still runs pure, though. I could survive a bit longer. Maybe if I was daring enough I could sneak down to the cafeteria and salvage some food. But what for? The Stable is dead and the world above is dead.

The irony of what I’m about to do isn’t lost on me. Two hoof fulls and a bottle of FireSprite should do it…

I’m going to the Everafter now, to be with my most certainly dead assistant, Mayberry. I never told her just how much she meant to me, now I will never get the chance to. If anypony finds these messages, leave while you still can. Evil has been unleashed in this stable, and it needs to remain buried.

Goodbye…

I sat back and slumped in the old chair of the clinic office, having finished the last of the uncorrupted entries. In the corner of the small room there was a unicorn skeleton, the once Dr. Curette I realized, and now her death was a lot less mysterious. Honestly after what I had learned, I kind of wished it was still just a mystery.

“How is he?” I whispered as I wiped away the errant moisture gathering in my eyes. The whole stable wiped out in such barbaric fashion. What if...

Blaster looked up from the only functioning autodoc, the other had been damaged beyond repair by a fallen support beam. “Looks good far as I can tell. Yellow lights are good on med tech right?”

Scarlett and I sighed with a response at the same time, “Yes…” Then exchanged awkward glances.

“How long?” Whiteout asked quietly from the window. She chanced another peek and jerked her head back out of view. “They’re still out there,” her voice died to a whisper.

I nodded with a sigh as my shoulders sagged. We made enough noise to attract a whole lot of the demonic creatures - which I now hazard a guess that they were the Stable’s inhabitants - but they did not know we were here. Not yet, anyway. “The notes said several hours, but…” I trailed off and remembered the abysmal success rate. A glance between each of them and a pit sunk into my stomach. If I were to tell them Ghost’s chances, then they would probably abandon him. He would be alone, fresh out of surgery, and he would…

No. I won’t let another die when I can do something about it. “But he’ll make it. We just need to wait.” Even if it means lying. Goddesses, forgive me.

“We can’t stay here!” Scarlett hissed. “Those things are rights outside and all we fucking need is one noise and we’re trapped.”

“So shut up then,” I hissed back with an added glare. Before she could retaliate, I said a bit more gently, “Look, I know you’re scared, we all are. This Stable is a… a nightmare beyond anything we have ever seen, but we need to keep faith.”

Blaster chuckled with a small smirk. “Sorry princess but we don’t believe what you believe.”

I rolled my eyes. “Obviously. I meant to keep faith that we’ll get out of here.” A pause, then I added, “All of us.” The fact that I actually needed to clarify that annoyed me to no end.

“But how are we gonna do that?” Whiteout whispered, a noticeable tremble in her shoulders. “The elevator we used is in pieces, we don’t even know if there is another way out… and even if there was, how’re we going to get out of this room? Both doors have those things outside.”

My ears pasted back and I bit my lip. All were valid points and we needed answers. Can’t go back, can’t go forward, and there is not a guarantee of escape even if we could. The bounty was of no concern anymore, there was no salvaging anything in this death trap. And while I did not think of it before, even if we could get the time and peace to disassemble equipment, we would have to-- wait...

An idea suddenly hit me and I grinned real big.

“Uh oh.” Blaster took a step back. “Not sure I like that…”

“Oh, you will,” I said. “You will.”

“This is either the most ingenious idea ever,” Blaster whispered behind me. “Or the dumbest.”

I grinned despite myself, shuffling along in the cramped and dusty overhead vent just ahead of the others.

“Shhhh!” Scarlett hissed just behind him. “Shut the fuck up! They’re just below!”

And indeed as if to prove her point, below the vent was another of the bloody, mutated, shuffling horrors. From the mostly closed vent, I could see it had once been an earth pony stallion wearing some form of coveralls and a bloody yellow helmet hung around its neck. The red-on-black eyes stared straight forward and its sharp limbs and mandibles hung limp. The monster slowly passed by in a lethargic bore, the four of us waited anxiously above. Once it was gone we quietly continued.

“How did you know this vent would be safe?” Whiteout quietly asked.

I smirked and whispered back what I found. “A stable has many vents, many of them different sizes. The vents the creatures ambushed us through were much larger than this one. As long as we stay quiet, we will be fine.” I concluded softly and a lot more confidently than I felt. I still had Conviction out just ahead of me, pointed towards the dark unknown… just in case, even though its one magazine would do little good in a confrontation. I kept my pipbuck lamp off for fear of the creatures taking notice, which kept us almost in perfect darkness. The flickering lights just outside the intermittent vent grates occasionally showed our way.

“And so,” Blaster grunted softly, the trip harder on the large stallion. “What’s the plan here, darlin’? We gonna worm our way till when ‘xactly? ‘Cause I ain’t much for tight spaces.”

Truthfully? I didn’t know. We were low on ammo and could not afford to fight these things head on. Our only recourse was to then hide and flee for our lives. Which I was fine doing, as the creatures proved terrifyingly fast and durable. “Well,” I whispered, then paused to see further ahead in the dark shaft. “We should try to find some manner of armament.”

“Ya mean ammo?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes… ammo.” I gave a side-glance to Conviction. I cannot believe what I am about to say. “On second thought, it would not behoove us to find some better weapons.”

“I’d be fine with that.”

“Same here.”

“Yeah…”

The question is… what weapons? And where? It was not like we could just stroll around or ask somepony for help. If Curette’s logs were accurate, then the hundreds of inhabitants of Stable 68 were either dead, lifeless corpses or these shuffling horrors. And from the sound of things, much of said ammunition and weapons may have been used already in the ancient conflict; Curette mentioned the strenuous situation between Security, science team, and the Overmare with Engineering and this ‘Excavation’ team. If things blew up like I suspect they did, then it was likely that the fighting used up any resources we could possibly plunder to save our flanks.

And even if we were to get lucky and find an arsenal, how would that help us? If the weapons were like what we had now, then they would be just as useless. I bit my lip as we crawled along, trying to find some way to balance the scales in our favor. With Ghost down for the count, and possibly dead, we were down our best fighter (no offense to Blaster, Scarlett, and Whiteout, of course. And I certainly do not count myself in that category).

I sighed softly and closed my eyes for a moment to send up a prayer to the Goddesses, my hope that we got out of this alive somehow.

The vent seemed to go on forever, and not all was as planned. Many times we had to take turns due to a collapsed or crushed vent, and more than once we had to stop for a prolonged period of time to wait for one of the creatures to pass by. None of us dared to speak at these critical junctures for fear of discovery.

“How much farther?” Scarlett whispered impatiently. “We’ve been scooting along for over an hour now!”

I gave nod, then peered out of the nearby grate. “I see lots of doors, each of them has a set of ascending numbers.” I paused with the thought. “I think we’re in the living quarters.”

“Is that where we want to be?” Whiteout asked.

“All depends, darlin’.”

“On?” I asked in kind and glanced back to Blaster.

He frowned. “On how many of them buggers were in the living quarters when things went to shit.”

Oh.

I grimaced, then gave a nod to his suspicion as we continued forward.

Thump.

“There’s another one,” Scarlette commented. “What is that, the fourth one now?”

“Any ideas what that was?”

“Explosion, I reckon.” Blaster guessed. “Ya got this stable with no living ponies left in it, right? So if everypony’s dead…”

“Then who is left to fix things when they break,” I finished the thought, and that brought on a whole new terrifying revelation to light. This stable was old. Very old. And quite likely falling apart with no one left that can make repairs.

“Best to keep a wary eye on our step,” I suggested. “Lest we run into something more dangerous than these creatures.”

There was a murmur of agreement between us.

“Ya know, Security might be our best bet.” Blaster shuffled forward, just behind me. He continued, “Been in one Stable before, and Security always had some manner of weapon or at least a little ammo.”

I frowned. Both because that would not help us that much and at the thought of Stables having weapons. But as I had seen, this Stable is not what it should be. I thought back to the Stable-Tec and M.A.R.S. barrels and boxes I had seen; those were not of the Goddesses, and yet they were here. How? Why? What were they for? In the back of my mind the answered lingered like a demon hidden in the blackness, waiting for the right moment even though I refused to acknowledge it.

Thump!

BOOM!

The entire vent shook like a filly waving a fork around. Stars clouded my vision as I slammed against the side of the grate. Freefall, then I fell into the open hallway and crashed to the floor…

… and right at the bloody hooves of one of the monsters.

I glanced up and my blood froze. It glared down on me with savage hunger.

Up above in the open vent, “Girl! Run! Get up and RUN!”

Conviction was not at my side. I scrambled back just as the two pike-like arms stabbed into the rusted floor. The creature howled indignantly, as if my attempt to save myself was some kind of affront.

Yes, running is a very good idea right now!

Though instead of doing that, I scrambled dumbly on my back. The creature advanced with murderous howls, its bony knives stabbing down at each second with the intent to kill. Eventually it figured out that it should aim for my chest rather than my flailing hind legs, which left rolling to the right as my only recourse. Except now the thing loomed over me with a commanding position. Bloody mandibles chittered as if it knew, the ded light behind its eyes fixated solely on me.

“Get away!” I screamed out and bucked, only to be stuck at and awkward angle, my hips and hind legs held up by the arms that grew out of the thing’s belly. It screeched and rose both spear-like limbs high and I knew it was the end.

Bang, bang!!

Two cannon shots rang out followed by the squeals and gurgles of the monster. Its sickly underbelly limbs loss their grip and I fell. Shocked by rescue, I saw Whiteout in the open vent grate that I fell from, her weapon propped and aimed for the two of us.

“Stop waiting to be murdered and run already, stupid!” Scarlett yelled from a grate further down the wall.

I gave a nod and scrambled to my hooves, then galloped away as fast as I could down the singular direction of the hallway. Most of the doors had a red light, which I knew meant they were locked and of no use to me. One, however, was blacked out, its bulb broken. With the monster chasing me and the echoes of more on the way, it was the only option. I had to risk it.

Something beeped and the door started to open, groaning with the effort of not having to function for Goddesses knows how long. Yes! It works! I’m sa--

Another creature stood in the door, this one so obese its morbidly stretched underbelly dragged across the metal floor. My furiously pumping blood ran cold. It did not help that the first monster was hot after my tail.

The fat one saw me as its vision cleared the door. It gurgled a deep-throated screech and stomped forward, me and its friend racing towards it at the same time.

“OH damn, oh damn, oh damn!!” I panicked, trying to figure some way out before the distance closed and I would end up horribly perforated and dismembered. Morbidly I wondered if getting killed by these things would be worse than what Bracket would have done.

“Rrrrraaaaauuughh!!” Behind me, the monster let out a loud battlecry and I heard its hooves leave the floor as it leaped. The bulbous blob in front of me raised a limb high, intent on skewering the delicious unicorn in front of it.

The sight of the limb froze my legs and I skid to a stop. Moments later, the first creature slammed into the bulbous fat one in front of me. I blinked, the two angry things growling and snapping at each other, tangled in a mess of mutilated limbs.

Oh.

Picking the widest side, I galloped by and made for the open room, praying to the Goddesses that it would be clear. Thankfully it was, deserted by the large one.

“Where!?” I panted and looked around frantically. “Where, where, where!?” Aha! The red close button. Outside I could hear the things getting up and advancing. I pounded the thing repeated. “Close! Close, close, close, for the love of Luna CLOSE!” I begged.

The door descended maybe an inch, then groaned and refused to budge. I screamed.

I chanced a peak and the things are already bounding.

“Shit!” I retreated and pounded the button again and again and again. “Please close!!”

The monsters were almost upon me. I looked this way and that for another way out, there was none. I am screwed. So very, very screwed.

The things crossed the threshold, there was a snap of metal--

Bang! Crunch.

I jumped, the steel wall of the door came crashing down like a fist, catching both monsters in the threshold and sending a grotesquely wet splatter across the entire frame.

I stared for what felt like forever in the silence, processing what had just happened as my racing heart still thumped in folded ears. It is not certain what started first, the maniacal laughter or the faint, but the floor rushed up to meet me regardless.

Level Up!

New Perk: Intense Training: You gain +1 point to a S.P.E.C.I.A.L. stats. +1 to Agility.