Redheart's Hospital Horrors

>Be Nurse Redheart
>That beloved, pink-maned nurse from Ponyville Hospital. Caretaker, self-appointed disciplinary officer, and horror-movie junkie.
>At the moment, you're stuck at your least-favorite shift in the entire hospital. The night-shift. Barely anypony comes in, and yet you still have to stay here in the hospital. Alone. At night. All night long, to be precise.
>You're busying yourself trying to read a book in the dim light of the nurse's station. They keep a skeleton crew about the hospital during this shift, so other than Cough Drop at the front desk and Doctor Horse at his office on the other side of the hospital, it was just you.
>It's only 11 PM and already you're getting shaky. You place the latest Harry Trotter book down on the desk in front of you, making a small whine as a chill runs up your spine. You silently regret that marathon from last night and crawl out of your chair. Five patients to check on. Just five, and then you can hide in the nurse's station for another two hours. It won't be bad, right?
>Certainly there isn't some horrifying monstrosity from somewhere in the bowels of the hospital waiting to rend you limb from limb. Nope, nothing like that at all. No zombie ponies, no vengeful specters waiting in the darkness, and certainly no crazed stallions in hockey masks out on the prowl for an innocent nurse like yourself.
>...
>You hate the night-shift.
>You make sure to check the torch they give you, ensuring that it was alive and working well. You shake it a few times, getting the light at it's brightest. You fit the mouth guard into your jaw as you start out of the station, trying to hum to yourself as you trot down the dark hallways.
>Every passing window would cast a pale luminescence upon the floor, a dull blue glow acting as a sort of guide along the way. The sight is oddly comforting, but at the same time it only made the shadows in between more intense.

>You make sure to turn your head side to side as you scanned the bleak hallways, that feeling of dread from being here alone in the dark clinging to your back tightly. The feeling itself was stifling, and your breathing came in in slow, measured portions in a feeble attempt to stay calm. Every so often the creak of the aged hospital from the wind outside would force an abrupt halt and a frantic scan of the corridor.
>As your hoofsteps echoed down the hallway, you knew you were coming towards the first patient, nearest to the nurse's station. Mr. Cake had gotten caught up in the backblast of a misfire from Pinkie Pie's party cannon. You personally detested the thing for safety reasons, and weren't quite sure why they still allowed her to keep it. Element of Laughter or no, it was a menace, and sent more than one pony into the hospital.
>Mr. Cake suffered a head injury, although nothing terribly serious. Doctor Horse had assured Mrs. Cake that he would be completely fine and could head home and rest, but she was hysterical and absolutely insisted on him staying. The thought makes you chuckle, alleviating some of the fear of the darkness as you finally reach Mr. Cake's room.
>The door hung slightly ajar as you nudged it open, revealing the dark patient's room. It was colder than normal in her, the thick scent of sugar filling the room. You wrinkle your nose slightly as you move in, inspecting the room as quietly as you can. A soft glow lay upon the floor coming from the window. Turning to look at the patient, however, you find yourself staring at an empty bed.
"Oh sweet Celestia no..."
>You start to sweat as you look over the empty bed. The covers were ruffled haphazardly, but there was no sign of Mr. Cake anywhere in the room. You couldn't help but think back to the film that you'd watched before with the same scenario.
>"The Horror on Colt's Peak" had a scene just like this. The empty bed, the black room, everything was the same.

>You expected that some unfathomable beast from beyond had no doubt dragged Mr. Cake from his bed while he was weakened. The thought that some big, drooling monster was walking around the hospital made you panic, shaking your head and sending the aura of light from the flashlight cascading about the room. This only served to create more erratic and errant shadows.
>Nope. You weren't going to do this. You were just going to back out and leave the room. You're certainly too young to die - you don't even have a husband yet!
>As you trot backwards out of the room, you feel yourself bump into something.
>Something tall and warm. Something with skin. You don't register anything else beyond that as you start to scream, panicking and turning around. You trip over your own hooves, falling into a heap upon the tiled floor of the patient's room.
>Your flashlight rolls out of your mouth and across the room, bumping neatly into a corner. You look up at the barely illuminated shape of a pony, the rebounding light in the room only serving to stretch their shadow up along the wall and ceiling.
>Of course, you continue screaming your head off on the floor.
>"Ahhhh! What, what, what's going on?!"
>That voice. It's not some hideous gurgling of a warped creature from outside the confines of equine thought.
>No, that was most certainly the voice of a stallion.
>You let your eyes start to adjust to the gloom, staring up to see a worried looking Mr. Cake staring back, clad in a pair of striped pajamas with a bandage wrapped about his forehead.
>"Are you alright there? Are you hurt? I mean, you were screaming so loudly just now."
>He's obviously concerned with how you're doing. You look up at him and frown deeply, regaining your composure as you stand up from your crouched position. You speak as you make your way to the corner to retrieve your flashlight.
"Y-yes! I'm doing quite fine, Mr. Cake. You shouldn't be out of your bed this late!"
>You see the yellow stallion wince.

>"Well, I mean, I had to use the bathroom, and it's not like I'm unable to get out of bed. I mean, I only bumped my noggin."
>You give him the most deadpan stare you can muster as he gives his explanation for basically scaring you out of your wits. You point a hoof sternly towards the bed and narrow your eyes.
>"To the bed, Mr. Cake. Please stay there until the rest of the night is over."
>The stallion didn't need to be told twice as he scurried past you, throwing himself into the sheets and curling up tightly.
>You canter out of the room, making sure to close the door tightly behind you. With flashlight in mouth, you sternly start down the hallway. The deep, dark, foreboding, something-is-waiting-in-the-shadows-to-get-you hallway.
>Yep there it is. That same sense of dread crawling up your spine, and only four more patients to go.
>You keep up a quick canter as you make your way down the hall, trying to focus on anything else besides the movies that you watched last night.
>Why did they have to make the hallways so long, anyway?
>You start to slow down as you approach the last small stretch to the next door.
>Apparently Bonbon was checked in for a broken leg. Something about trying to show Ms. Heartstrings why hands were an all around bad idea for ponies.
>It wasn't your business to question what those two were into, but it sure was weird.
>You push open the door and start in, the room making you shiver as the icy cold went over you.
>Why would it be so cold? You look over at the temperature in the room. No, it was the same as it always was. You grumble to yourself as you start towards the bed.
>You just hoped the patient would be there like the last time.
>As you round the corner to look at the bed around the curtain, you let out a satisfied sigh, acknowledging the presence of the pale white, staring pony in the bed. As you're about to turn around in satisfaction, your brain finally kicks back in.
>Pale white pony. Staring eyes.
>Cue screams.

>As you start to scream and (once again) drop your flashlight, the ghost pony rouses itself, wailing back at you in turn.
>You end up stumbling backwards and knocking one of the curtains on the open window down, sending it topping onto you.
>Even more screams.
>Finally your voice goes hoarse and you start to hyperventilate instead, throwing the curtain off of you to stare at the ghostly equine in the bed.
>It now had the grumpiest looking face you'd ever seen. Those light blue eyes were boring into your soul. Finally, it starts speaking.
>"What, in the name of Tartarus, do you think you're even doing? Why are you screaming?"
>You can barely hold yourself together, stuttering out a reply and shaking as you began to stand. Ghosts always seemed to be vengeful and powerful in the movies you saw.
"Y-y-you're eyes...why were...I mean..."
>The ghost let out an exaggerated groan, then glared at you. As you start to regain your composure, you notice that their hind leg is strapped up and in a cast.
>"I sleep with my eyes open you idiot!
>You're starting to piece things together as you look behind you at the open window. No wonder it was cold in here.
"But your face..."
>"It's a facial mask. I sleep with it on to help make my coat look nice in the mornings."
>You're dumbstruck at this point, staring at Bonbon as she harumphed. She then looked at the window and then back at you, pointing a hoof down at the flashlight on the floor.
>"If you're done in here, can you take your light and get out? I already have enough trouble sleeping as it is without somepony screaming in my ear all night long."
>You balk under the request of the stern, obviously grumpy pony. You pick up your flashlight, muttering apologies around it as you exit the room.
>You manage to make out "Stupid nurses." as you exit, the shut door muffling any other grumblings the mare had.
>You lean against the wall, thumping your head against it repeatedly and chiding yourself against what you've just done.

>The hospital was once again silent, and you were trotting along to the next room with a strict determination. You were going to make it through tonight. You weren't going to let yourself get scared again. Not even if it was incredibly creepy inside the Ponyville Hospital at nighttime.
>This didn't stop you from practically galloping to the next room.
>You could swear there were less windows as you went further down the in-patient wing. It certainly didn't make things any better. After all, your flashlight only provided so much comfort.
>That was of course heavily outweighed by your own imagination and your quickly growing fear of the dark.
>You forced yourself to slow down as you approached the next room, bringing yourself to a slow trot. Your heavy breathing finally began to slow down well after you'd stopped in front of the room and were looking over the chart on the door.
>Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo. Ah yes, the town miscreants. You can't say you were fond of them either. Young fillies like them shouldn't be so foolhardy and danger prone. You weren't thrilled with their guardians either, considering that they were allowed to pull all manner of stunts that were dangerous to both themselves and anypony standing nearby.
>From what you'd heard, they'd all gotten into Zecora's herbal cabinets and done something or other to themselves, and were here under observation for the next few days.
>You reach for the door handle, pulling it and opening it a crack. The sound of shuffling and groaning met your ears as you held the door open an inch.
>Nope. Nope nope nope nope nope.
>Zecora's mystic medicine mumbo jumbo. The fillies being put into overnight observation. Strange groaning and shuffling noises in the room.
>Your imagination was brimming with all manner of possibilities. But you'd be ready at this point. This HAD to be zombie ponies. The last two rooms were just something spooky, but this kind of stuff is more than a coincidence.

>You throw the door wide and step into the room, crossing the threshold boldly with your flashlight aimed down across the room.
>Yep, there went that bravado. Right out the door when you stepped in.
>Staring back at you were three fillies, their coats a sickly green and black shade. Their eyes a combination of milky white and bloodshot, with no pupil to be seen.
>[SCREAMING INTENSIFIES]
>You manage to keep the flashlight in your mouth this time, screaming around it as you start to back up out into the hallway.
>You shudder and shake as you bump into the back wall, the three zombified fillies stumbling out into the corridor with you.
>You keep your flashlight aimed at them as they continue towards you, groaning and moaning. The unicorn even stretches a hoof out towards you as you start to whimper.
>You throw yourself down onto the ground at the mercy of the zombies. If they were going to eat your brains, you didn't want to draw it out. You were doomed. Done for. Finito. You keep your eyes shut tight as you hear the shuffling fillies draw near.
>As they stop in front of you, you fully expecting your demise, you instead feel a hoof softly poking at your head, repeatedly prodding you.
>Were they testing the hardness of your skull? Were they getting ready to size you up and then devour you?
>"Unnngh...nurse? Do you have anything for a tummy ache?"
>What?
>You open your eyes, looking at the trio of fillies standing around you. They certainly looked like zombies, with the proper coat and eyes and all.
>But why would zombies talk?
>You look at the three fillies in a confused manner. The earth pony starts to talk next.
>"Our tummies are gettin' awful sore from all those potions...we thought movin' around would help, but it ain't cuttin' it."
"Potions?"
>You start to get up, looking down at the fillies, the pegasus speaking up this time.
>"We tried to get our cutie marks in herbal medicine. It...didn't work out so well."

>"Well if ya'll hadn't both decided to eat the purple stuff, we wouldn't be like this."
>"Us? It was YOU who said to eat it, Apple Bloom!"
>"Me? Sweetie, you and Scootaloo both started it!"
>"Don't you bring me into this you two!"
>The fillies were arguing for the better part of five minutes. At this point, you were starting to get more irritated than scared. You grumble to yourself and finally look down at the bickering fillies.
"Enough! All three of you, get back in your beds. I'll get you something to help your stomachs after I finish checking on all the other patients."
>The three fillies were staring at you with those wide, blank, bloodshot eyes. Even knowing that they were just normal fillies who happened to be sick, it was incredibly creepy to look at. You looked away after a few moments, giving a stomp of your hoof to emphasize your previous order. The trio, moaning and shuffling, took themselves into the room, closing the door behind them. You scowl as you start off towards the next room. This was getting old. You were quickly getting tired of being spooked.
>You remind yourself to demand to never be put on night shift again. Ever. You practically stomp the whole way to the next, telling yourself that you wouldn't be scared no matter what was down there.
>This doesn't stop you from anxiously checking the rest of the hall with your flashlight the whole time. Your hoofsteps echoed down the hall, but you could see the end of it off in the distance. Every time you pass by one of the windows, your shadow stretches upon the wall, as if mocking you for your obvious cowardice.
>You try to ignore all of this as you steel yourself, finally reaching the next room. As you look over the chart, you give a soft nod to yourself.
>Cranky had apparently been involved in a cart accident of some sort on the outskirts of town. You shook your head and scowled. Some ponies had no idea what they were doing when they ran willy-nilly with those carts.

>Apparently some donkeys were the same, from what you could surmise.
>You start to nudge open the door, telling yourself that no matter what you saw, it was just Cranky Doodle after having been in an accident. No ghosts, no ghouls, no goblins, no monsters of any sort. Just an injured donkey.
>You look over the room, keeping your flashlight in your mouth all the while as you inspect it. You nod to yourself as you take each step forward, a feeling of reluctance washing over you. You weren't quite sure where it came from. Your muscles tensed as a small shiver seemed to accompany every step you made further in. The pale illumination from the window mingled with the bright yellow cone of your flashlight's gaze. You keep yourself firm in your resolve as you move around the curtains of the patient's bed, hoping for the best, but leaning towards the worst.
>Cranky would no doubt have something else to terrify you with. Something to spook you or throw you into a series of hysterics. You were sure it was bound to happen at some point. You just knew that this donkey would have something up his nonexistent sleeve.
>As your light laid bare whatever terrors there were to be found inside the bed, you found yourself greeted with...
>The snoring form of Cranky Doodle.
>No ghosts, ghouls, monsters, or other alien entities. Just a snoring donkey with some bandages on his side and head.
>You weren't sure whether to feel relieved or cheated.
>The snoring seemed even, and everything seemed stable as you looked him over. Finally, you pull back and smile to yourself, trotting out towards the doorway.
>You definitely had a bit more respect for the donkey at this point.
>You hum cheerfully to yourself, closing the door behind you, lost in your own thoughts about the respectability of donkeys.
>This was short lived, however, as you turned back to face the wall on the other side of the hallway.
>In front of which was a large stallion panting and wearing a hockey mask.
>Nope.

>The run to the next room was a blur.
>You didn't know you could gallop that fast as you practically flew down the hall. You didn't even know why you chose to go this way, rather than towards the nurse's station and the exit.
>Stupid habits.
>You could hear those hooves coming behind you, that ragged breathing and feverish grunting like a wild animal. Like some beast that had dragged itself out of Tartarus just to come for you.
>You weren't about to slow down or face whatever it was. But you did spot the final patient door near the end of the hallway. You knew he could outrun you, you could tell by those stomping hooves behind you, mere seconds away from catching you.
>You turn sharply and practically tackle your way through the final patient room door, swinging your way in and slamming it shut.You heard the hooves outside the door, and you couldn't help but start weeping.
>"Huh? What? What's going on?"
>A voice. Of course, a final patient was in here. Maybe they could assist you. All you had to do was calmly explain to them what was going on and ask for their assistance. Surely anypony would be wiling to help a poor nurse mare like yourself.
"SHUT UP AND HELP ME HOLD THIS DOOR!"
>You are so on top of this. You watch as the local baby dragon starts to scurry around the bed, an eyepatch over one eye as he looked at you and the door.
>Great. Your last line of defense between you and imminent doom was a door and a baby dragon.
>The dragon throws himself against the door, helping you hold it. There was no resistance from the other side, but you could hear a tapping upon the door and a harsh, whispering voice.
>"I know you're in there, nurse. Go on, open the door. You know you can't keep running."
>You were pretty sure the dragon was just as scared as you were at this point. You both kept yourselves pressed onto the door, whimpering to yourselves.
>The hoof began to tap on the door again, this time more forceful. Your heart was pounding your chest.

>You weren't sure what to do at this point. You'd seen all the slasher flicks they had out there though. There was no chance to run. No chance to hide. You weren't going to get away from the psycho, not once they picked you out as a target.
>"I promise to make it quick if you just open the door, Redheart."
>Oh Celestia he knows your name.
>You look down at the dragon, who was giving you a confused look through scared eyes.
>You lean down to whisper to him as you place your hoof upon the door handle.
"Just start running and don't stop. Just get out of here."
>He gives you a nod and you look back at the door, Breathing in sharply, you then jerk it open, the dragon stepping back behind you as you look into the eyes of the masked pony.
>The purple dragon manages to slip between the pair of you, sprinting down the corridor as fast as those squat legs could carry him.
>You didn't care. You were going to die soon. You stared helplessly at your soon-to-be executioner, keeping yourself still.
>You watch as his hoof moves to his mask, lifting it up slowly. Oh no. He was probably horribly disfigured, or was some terrible thing altogether. If he wasn't a pony, he would have to wear that mask.
>You stare with dread as the mask slowly lifts, the dim light revealing the grinning face of Doctor Horse.
>"Gotcha."
>You were left speechless as you stared at the doctor. You didn't even react as he started to roll over on the ground laughing.
>You didn't bother to think about the dragon that was most likely sprinting past Cough Drop at the front desk and babbling about a psycho pony.
>All you wanted was to go back to the nurse's station and the welcoming pages of Harry Trotter.
>...
>You hate the night-shift.

~Fin~