Chapter Two.
 
>You weren't religious.
>So why did you ask God for help in your mind?
>It's a good thing the guards have their backs turned.
>Pokerface.jpg is not loading.
>You can't help but stare, mouth agape, at the creatures in front of you.
>There are two... horses, it looks like.
>Two of them in the center, a white one and a black one, chained to the floor and ceiling.
>They were standing.
>They had no real choice. That's the way their bindings were set up.
>It looked a lot like they were dragged in here while being bloodied.
>There is a lot of blood on the ground where the bodies were dragged to their respective locations.
>The white one and the black one had... Horns? And wings?
>That's the other shocking part.
>Besides the mass amount of blood on the ground.
>The wings looked like many of the feathers were forcibly plucked.
>The black one looks untouched.
>Well, except for the few scars you can discern.
>The white one has blood stains all over her.  
>Mostly dried blood, though some was fresh.
>Must be from the dragging, but you can't discern any fresh wounds.
>Or many old ones, for that matter.
>The black one has them too, on closer inspection.
>Dried and matted fur where the blood has dried.
>you didn't notice at first because the dark blood blends in with you matted black coat.
>They were both unclean and unkempt.
>Someone has a lot of malice and hatred towards these creatures.
>Apparently, that someone is you...
>Focus.
>They both were looking down.
>Not at you.
>Fear? Or a trained response based on the desires of the previous... employee who dealt with them?
>Maybe both.  Probably both.
>Wait.
>Where did the blood come from?
>Again, you see no real fresh wounds, or many large or obvious scars.
>That's when you notice the cages.
>There were six smaller horses in the cages above them, all around the room.
>The cages were harder to see in.
>There were definitely smaller horses in the cages.
>But you couldn't get a good look from just in front of the door.
>Before you can make more observations, the guards turn around.
>They look sick.
>Afraid.
>One of them moves in closer, still staying about two feet away as he speaks quietly.
>”Sir, the eight prisoners have been moved to your special room as requested.”
>”Your specifications were met to the letter.”
>”There are a few extra precautions taken due to the last...incident.”
>He flinches at the word incident.
>Apparently, he sees this as something that will induce your rage.
>These people fear you.
>You use it to your advantage.
>Good thing you took that acting class.
>That one acting class....
>You begin to fidget and twitch with your hands.
>You get a displeased look on your face.
“What kind of... specifications, do you mean?”
>You leer at him.
>He leans back, shivering.
>”Any tampering with the bindings will result in an alarm going off.”
>”Except the gags, of course, sir.”
>”If the cages open, an alarm will sound.”
>”There's a panic button on the wall next to the door.”
“Is there anything else I need to know, or are you just going to waste more of my time?”
>How the hell are you able to sound so convincing?
>You should be pissing yourself and having a brain aneurism.
>At the same time.
>”The room is sound proof, sir.  I-I know that's not what you wanted, b-but...”
“But what?”
>You put force into your “what.”
>He jumps.
>”King's orders, sir! People couldn't sleep at night.”
>Oh.  
>Oh Gods.
>That's not any more comforting.
“Hmmm... I suppose you think you should stay inside, then.”
>He does not like that idea.
>Neither does his silent friend.
>Good.
“I'd rather get... intimately acquainted with the new room.  Truly welcome our... guests.”
>The guards look like they breath a collective and silent sigh of relief.
“Unless, of course, you would like to watch...”
>”We'll be outside! Sir Anonymous!”
>They practically run outside.
>The door slams.
>You stumble, you composure broken.
>You immediately crouch close to the floor, hands on your head.
>You need to stop the room from spinning.
>You would purposefully lay down, but you would have lain in fresh blood.
“Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.”
>The blood on the floor isn't helping.
>You close your eyes.
>Deep breathes.
>When you open your eyes, this will all be gone.
>Just a weird nightmare.
>You open your eyes to fresh crimson on the floor.
>You struggle to breathe normally, trying desperately to use the techniques you have learned in therapy.
>You squat there for some unknown amount of time.
>Just staring at the floor and breathing.
>What the fuck is happening?
>Where the fuck am I?
>What have I done?
>Is this me?
>Internally, a voice tells you to think out loud.
>That voice...
>You've heard it before.
>It's not new...
“Focus.”
>You often talk out loud by yourself to calm your thoughts.
>It helped when you had extreme episodes.
>Your voice would sound oddly soothing.
>Like you knew everything was okay even though your mind screamed in twisted emotional pain.
>You would never do this in front of others, often hiding in a room or running outdoors and away.
>Away...
>Away ...
>Away  ...
“Focus, Anon.”
>But now you needed to talk.
>For you.
>To try and figure this out.
“Deep breaths.”
>Not like they could understand what you said, anyway.
>You stand up.
“Deep breaths. I'm gonna figure this out.”
>You look up.
>You see the two big horses in the middle staring at you.
>The white one has a poker face.
>The black one is defiant.
>That's when you notice that their mouths are sewn shut.
>A type of wire crosses between their upper and lower lips multiple times.
>It looks exceptionally painful.
>And it is terrifying
“Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.”
>You almost go back to crouching.
“Why are your mouths sewn shut?”
>Your voice surprises you.
“I mean, it's not like you can talk. You're horse-beings from myth.”
>You can't stop yourself from talking.
>But it doesn't feel unnatural.
“And the room is soundproofed, right?  So the noise wouldn't bother other people.”
>Yeah, that makes sense.
>I mean, you're right.
>Right?
“So why bother making it so you can't open your mouths. The guards seem to think that I like hearing the screams...”
>You walk forward from the entryway into the circular room.
>The white horse keeps looking forward.
>The black one still glares at you.
“Why would someone waste time hurting horses?  
“”Well, I mean, at that point, why the hell would some one take pleasure in tormenting anything?””
>You pause.
>You talk to yourself a lot in private.
>How is it different in front of horses?
“Because that person is a sick bastard”
“”Well, yeah, but that's beside the point.””
>You start pacing around the two horses, forgetting about the cages.
>You make your telltale hand gestures, making sweeps and arcs to extenuate your points to no one.
>Yes, you are that guy people hate to talk to because of the hand gestures.
>When you get in a weird groove, you just can't help it.
“”Something's not right here...””
“Well no shit, Anon.  You wake up in a room with a bunch of torture tools. You are apparently some big, bad, feared sick fuck.  Oh, and apparently you torture horses with said tools.”
“”Well, I'm not a sicko.  The other guy who looks exactly like me from this dimension is a sicko. And somehow we swapped places.””
“”Right.””
“But that's not what I meant.”
>You stop in front of the two horses-beings.
>The white one has an eyebrow raised, looking at you. Its eyes are slightly narrowed.
>The black one looks confused.
“”Why gag creatures that can't talk if I... if... HE apparently loves the noise? And why torture them? Torture isn't usually used for only sick pleasure.  It's used for information. So why cut up horses? Albeit horses that seem to have some sort of understanding of what I'm saying.””
”Because maybe... maybe these horses can talk.”
““Right, next you'll say they have wings and can fly.””
>You look at the wings.
>You look at the creatures faces.
>You look back at the wings.
>You look back at the faces.
>They both have loaded impliedfacepalm.jpg.
“Right.”
>””The guards said that the gags wouldn't spark and alarm. I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that counts for... wire...””
>You look in your... HIS apron for something to saw at those wires.
>You find a large knife.
>Very sharp.
”Alright, I'm going to try and cut the wires.  Please, try to hold still. I don't want to hurt you.”
>You decide to start with the white one.
>Call it a gut feeling, but...
>Something feels... oddly intelligent about these horses.
>And this being emits a sort of odd presence.
>You can”t really describe it, and you had more pressing matters to attend to.
>The knife takes some time to cut through the first couple of wires.
>However, the more you cut, the easier it gets.
>Easier, but much more grotesque.
>The wire starts ripping out pieces of flesh in places, exposing the horse's gums.
>Blood drips and spurts here and there, getting on the horse's coat, and on you.
>If this poor creature could have spoken, it won't be able to for quite some time after this.
>You reel backwards.
>Most of the flesh around the right half of its mouth is gone
“I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry. I didn't mean...”
>You stare in awe as the skin around her mouth  begins to reform.
>The sinew and tissue starts to rapidly grow back and mend, twisting together.
>The being shudders in pain as you gape, awestruck by this sight.
>The horse straightens to its full height, staring right at you, eye-to-eye.
>It feels like the eyes bore into your very being.
>”You will pay for your crimes, Anonymous.”