You Can't Keep Me Here

Chapter 1: Beacon:

Krimson City, September 15, 1940:

Dark clouds filled the sky above Krimson City, sending heavy rain down onto its inhabitants. Krimson City, colloquially known as 'Dog City', due to its mostly canine citizens, was a broken city. Though the Great Depression ended a year earlier, many cities, including Krimson, had yet to recover. The streets were lined with shuttered stores and filled with litter.

A lone police car was the only sign of life on the filthy streets. Inside were four canines: one officer, two detectives, and one P.I. The driver was Officer Arnold Connolly, a Black Lab and a rookie on the force. In the backseats were Detectives John Garrison, a Basset Hound, and Rosie O'Leary, a Rough Collie. Riding shotgun was a Private Investigator named Benjamin 'Ace' Hart. The German Shepherd was staring blankly out the windshield, watching the raindrops splash against it.

Garrison and O'Leary had just finished a case when a call came in with reports of multiple homicides at Beacon Mental Hospital. Connolly had been sent to pick them up. Ace had dropped by the scene earlier, so he decided to tag along. Though they all agreed to help, none of them were eager to do so. The hospital had a terrible reputation.

Since the hospital's opening in 1890, there'd been numerous reports of suspicious patient deaths and disappearances. In recent years, especially during The Great Depression, the number of patients going missing had increase dramatically. To make matters worse, dogs from the city had also begun to disappear. What started as the occasional vagabond from the local Hooverville, turned into higher class citizens going missing. So many in fact, the police had a hard time keeping track. Some of them would turn up again, albeit dead and heavily mutilated, almost beyond recognition. The first cases were easy to write off, but the increase in victims made everyone believe something more nefarious was going on.

That said, the drive to Beacon was tense, the only sound in the car was the soft music playing on the radio. Ace rolled down his window, not caring about the rain, and pulled a pack of Marlboros and a Zippo lighter from his coat. He placed a cigarette into his mouth, lit it, and took a long drag, feeling the rush of nicotine through his lungs. He blew a puff of smoke out the window, the wind quickly carrying it away. He hummed along with the radio between drags, trying to keep his mind occupied.

"So, what do you guys think about this?" Connolly asked, breaking the silence.

"It's probably another escaped patient attacking the staff," Rosie replied, "There's half a dozen units already on scene, so we might be late to the party, anyway."

"Here's hoping," Ace grumbled, flicking his cigarette butt out the window.

"Don't be like that, Ace," Rosie said, "You might get to do some real work for once. When was the last time you had a case?"

"Too long," Ace replied, rolling up his window.

He shifted in his seat, reaching in his coat to adjust his holster, feeling the familiar weight of his four-inch barreled Smith and Wesson Model 27. The car rounded a corner, and the clocktower of Beacon Mental Hospital could be seen in the distance. A blast of brass instruments began playing through the radio, a familiar tune Ace had heard before during his childhood.

"Ugh, why are they playing this damn song?" he asked.

"It's to rouse people's spirits," Garrison replied, "You heard about what's going on in Europe?"

"Yeah, Ace," Connolly chimed in, "That mad cat Hitler went and started himself a war. First Poland, now France and Great Britian. Fuckin' crazy, man."

Ace slumped in his seat. Rouse people's spirits. He remembered how the song had roused his father's spirits, him volunteering to be sent overseas to save France from the Germans during the Great War. Of course, like many others, he came home in a coffin. Ace grew to despise the song because of that, and he hoped he'd never have to hear the words The Yanks Are Coming ever again.

"As long as he keeps that shit over there, it ain't our problem," Ace said, "No reason we should get involved again."

"Always the cynic, Ace," Rosie said.

Ace opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, a high-pitched ring emanated from the radio. They winced in pain, the ring stinging their ears. Connolly swerved as he removed one of his hands from the steering wheel to cover one ear while using his shoulder to cover the other. Ace quickly shut off the radio.

"God damn it!" he groaned, "The fuck was that!?"

"Maybe some interference," Rosie replied, rubbing her ears.

"Let's just keep the radio off," Connolly said, giving his head shake. They continued the rest of the trip in silence, disturbed by the strange event.

Connolly parked the car outside the front gate of Beacon Mental Hospital a few minutes later. Ace was the first one out, followed by the others. From where they were, they could see the other patrol cars surrounding the front entrance. Some of they had their doors wide open and their beacon lights on. But strangely, no officers were present.

"Where the hell is everybody?" Garrison asked. Rosie stepped beside him, looking over the scene.

"Something ain't right here," Ace said as he joined them.

"Hey, Connolly," Rosie said to him.

"Yes O'Leary?" he asked.

"Use that phone over there and contact dispatch," Rosie replied, pointing to a pay phone nearby, "Let them know what's going on." He gave a nod and headed to the phone.

Ace slowly approached the front gate; the metal having rusted over the past fifty years. He pushed the gate open, the hinges creaking the entire time. Once opened, he, Rosie, and Garrison made their way towards the hospital's front entrance. Ace glanced at each patrol car as they passed. The ones with their doors open had their leather seats soaked by the rain. The others sat with their engines off; without their rumble, the silence around the hospital was unnerving. The closer they got to the front entrance, the more tense they felt. Ace heard a little voice in his head, telling him to turn around and leave while he still could. He reached into his coat and brushed his fingers along his revolver, making sure it was still there.

"Are you alright, Ace?" Rosie asked, noticing him reach for his gun.

"I... there's something really wrong here, Rosie," he replied, "I can't explain it, but something's telling me we should leave."

"You know we can't do that Ace," Rosie said.

"I know," Ace said with a sigh. They climbed the steps to the front doors, which were open just a crack. Ace placed his hand on the doors and started to push them open, but he stopped when a strong smell of copper hit his nose.

"Shit!" he hissed.

"What is it?" Garrison asked.

"I smell blood," Ace replied, "Alot of it." Garrison drew his M1911 from its holster and slowly pushed the doors open. The scene that greeted them was horrific. Bodies of nurses and patients strewn all over the floor, their blood staining the walls and floor.

"What the shit!" Garrison exclaimed.

"Where're the other officers!" Rosie said through clenched teeth, drawing her Colt 1908 Hammerless. Ace took a step inside, his eyes scanning the bodies, looking for any sign of life.

"I don't see anyone alive," he said.

"Alright, let's check it out," Garrison said, walking inside the hospital, sweeping the lobby with his gun.

"I think we should wait for backup," Rosie suggested.

"We don't have time," Ace said, "There could be survivors somewhere, we need to find them before whoever did this comes back."

Rosie looked conflicted for a moment. Ace was one of her closest friends, but she hated how he always charged headlong into trouble. She'd lost count on the number of times he'd almost gotten himself killed. Despite her reservations, she knew it was pointless to argue with him.

"Okay," Rosie sighed, "I'll stay out here and wait for backup while you check things out." Ace stepped up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I know you hate when I do this," he said, "But I..." he stopped, not knowing what else to say. Rosie took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze.

"It's okay," she said, "Just, please don't do anything reckless."

Ace gave her a soft smile, which she returned. Rosie released his hand, Ace giving her a small wave before turning and walking back inside the hospital lobby. As he went, he studied each body he saw. All of them had deep cuts in their flesh, some had a hole in the center of their foreheads. Ace kneeled next to a body of a patient. He examined their wounds, noticing they were located along the limbs, severing the major arteries.

'The killer knew what they were doing,' he thought.

He stood up and continued walking through the lobby. Behind a wheelchair, he saw a Colt Detective Special lying on the floor in a puddle of blood. The empty cylinder was half open, and six .38 Special casings were scattered nearby. Near the bottom edge of the puddle was a playing card lying face down. Ace cocked head in puzzlement before he bent down and picked up the card. He turned it over and his eyes widened. It was the Ace of Hearts.

"What the hell?" he muttered, looking around the lobby. If there was ever a sign that something wasn't right, this was it. A loud bang came from a nearby office, Ace nearly jumping from his skin. He drew his Model 27 and aimed it at the office door.

"Ace, on me," Garrison said, moving slowly towards the office. Ace joined him, keeping his gun pointed at the door. Garrison grabbed the doorknob, slowly turning it to stay quiet. When the knob was fully turned, he threw the door open and charged inside.

"Police!" he shouted, sweeping the office, Ace coming in behind him. He moved further inside the room while Garrison checked an adjoining office.

"Ace!" he called out, "I've got a live one!"

"I'm comin'" Ace said, heading into the other room. It appeared to be a security office, with a large window on the far wall, the other side showing an empty hallway. Leaning against the wall opposite of the door was a doctor. The Bloodhound was in shock, but otherwise unhurt. Garrison was kneeling by his side, checking him over.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked him.

"Can't be real...impossible," the doctor said weakly, "Ruvik...is..."

"It's gonna be okay," Garrison said to reassure him, "Ace, I'm gonna get him outta here, search the office, see what you can find."

"Sure thing," Ace replied.

Garrison helped the doctor to his feet and escorted him back to the front entrance. Ace strolled around the office, pretending to look for something. He'd had enough of this place and was ready to leave. He turned to leave the office when the sound of gunfire startled him. He turned around and looked through the window. Three police officers ran into view before two turned around and shot at something down the hall, the third officer frantically reloading his revolver. Before Ace could react, a hooded figure appeared, killing two of the officers with a stab to the face.

They fell to the floor, blood spraying from their wounds. The figure then grabbed the third officer by the throat, raising him off the floor. The terrified officer emptied his Colt Official Police into the figure's chest. Despite six rounds of .38 Special fired point blank into their chest, they remained unfazed. Ace covered his right ear with his left hand and raised his revolver, firing a round over the figure's head. The .357 Magnum slug shattered the window and imbedded itself in the wall on the other side of the hall. The figure turned they headed towards him. Ace could see now it was a male White Shepherd. His face was mostly obscured by his hood, but Ace noticed heavy scarring on the right side of his face.

"Put him down!" Ace barked, aiming his revolver at the Shepherd's face. He stared at Ace, not moving an inch, the officer still struggling in his grasp.

"I'm not gonna ask you again, asshole!" Ace snarled, cocking the hammer on his gun, "Put him the fuck down! NOW!"

With a swift jerk of his arm, the Shepherd snapped the officer's neck, tossing his limp body on the floor. Ace's jaw dropped in shock, seeing this psycho kill without remorse. He watched the officer's body land on the floor, his dead eyes looking right at him. Ace tore his gaze away, bringing his attention back to the Sheperd, who was still staring at him. The blank look on his face only fueled Ace's rage.

"YOU BASTARD, I'LL KILL YOU!" he shouted, pulling the trigger and emptying his revolver's cylinder.

The reports from his revolver echoed in the small room, making his ears ring. The bullets struck the Shepherd in the face, but like before, he appeared unfazed. His body then seemed to glitch, becoming distorted. The walls bent around him before he disappeared in a bright flash of light.

"What!" Ace gasped. He took a couple back his eyes darting back and forth. A shadow appeared behind him. He turned and saw the Sheperd raise a long syringe needle. Ace's eyes widened as the needle was thrust into his face. His vision turned a blinding white, before slowly fading to black.

Soft music soon greeted his ears. Ace groaned, struggling to open his eyes. When he did, his vision was blurred, but he noticed something peculiar. He was hanging upside down, a blood-stained floor below him. Ace leaned his head up, seeing his feet tied with a rope attached to a metal pipe. He heard footsteps approaching, he glanced down to see who was coming. His eyes widened and he forced himself to stay quiet.

Standing before him was a massive Pitbull. The dog must be at least seven feet tall. One of his eyes was clouded over, and a rusted metal mask was worn over his muzzle. He was staring directly at Ace, but he didn't seem to care that he was awake. If fact, he almost seemed amused. The Pitbull then turned to his left and stepped partially out of view. When he did, Ace gasped in shock. A Lab was hanging a few feet in front of him. His muzzle was gagged, his eyes missing, and his clothes were stained with blood. A Bowie Knife was impaled in his chest. Despite this, the Lab was alive, but barely. He weakly moved his body, his teeth lightly biting the gag.

A pained moan came from Ace's left. He turned his eyes just in time to see the Pitbull raise a giant cleaver. He swung his arm down, striking a dog just out of view. Ace felt bile rise in his throat as the wet slap of the cleaver striking flesh reached his ears. He could hear the Pitbull's victim coughing up blood as he was struck multiple times. After four strikes, a loud tearing sound was heard, followed by one last pained moan. A second tear echoed in the room, followed by a volume of blood and entrails spilling on the floor. The Pitbull began walking to a table across the room, dragging the upper half of the dog's body with him.

"Oh God," Ace groaned, fighting the urge to vomit.

He needed to get out of there, now. He looked back at the Lab hanging in front of him. He was still now, meaning he'd finally passed. Ace gazed at the knife still stuck in his chest. Ace thrust himself forward, swinging his body towards the Lab. He grabbed for the knife, missing it by inches. Swinging himself back, he thrust his body forward again, his fingers brushing the knife's handle.

'One more,' he thought, swinging back again.

He thrust forward one last time, grabbing the knife and pulling it from the Lab's body. He looked over the knife's blade, finding quite sharp. He glanced back to the Pitbull, who was now hacking away at the dog's body. Ace bent his body up and grabbed the rope above his feet. He placed the knife's blade under his hand, forcing the blade through the rope.

Once the rope was severed, Ace unceremoniously fell to the floor. The impact knocked the air from his lungs, the hard metal floor jarring his bones. Ace groaned in pain, slowly sitting up. Across the room, the Pitbull so was focused on his butchering that he hadn't noticed. Ace climbed to his feet, adjusting his shirt. He found he was still wearing his holster, but his Model 27 was nowhere to be found.

"Of course, he took my gun," Ace muttered, remembering the White Shepherd.

Ace wondered if he was the one that brought him here, too. He shook his head; no time to think about that now. Knife in hand, he crouched down and slowly walked towards the Pitbull. To his left, Ace saw more bodies hung on hooks. He stopped moving when he heard a metallic clatter. Looking back to the Pitbull, Ace saw him wipe his hands on a rag before stepping out of the room.

Ace breathed a sigh of relief. He looked at the table, the dog's body the Pitbull was cutting was beyond recognition. Ace felt sympathy for him, but he pushed it aside for now. He moved slowly to the table, seeing a set of keys hanging on a hook above it. He reached up and quietly pulled the keys off the hook. He slipped them into his pocket. Grabbing one of the rags, he wrapped the blade of the Bowie Knife with it and stuffed it in his holster. The handle guard firmly securing it in place.

Satisfied, Ace slowly crept out of the room. Just outside, he saw a faded red door. His ears perked up and he quickly but quietly moved towards it. He stood to his feet when he reached it, pulling the keys from his pocket. He tried several keys before finding the right one. Unlocking the door, he turned the knob and slowly pushed it open, cringing as the hinges groaned the entire time.

"Could you make any more fuckin' noise!?" Ace hissed in a whisper.

He looked over his shoulder, hoping the Pitbull hadn't heard him. Seeing nothing, Ace quickly moved through the doorway, which led to a small set of stairs. Ace climbed the stairs and onto a metal catwalk. He moved slowly across it, keeping his footsteps quiet. He saw a door at the other end, and slightly quickened his pace. Unfortunately, by doing so, he missed the trip wire that was near the floor. He felt his leg snag on something, a bell on the wall above him suddenly began to ring. He grabbed the bell, trying to rip it from the wall. Thundering footsteps caught his attention, he turned around and saw the Pitbull standing at the top of the stairs, a chainsaw in hand.

"Shit!" Ace exclaimed and ran to the door, slamming it open with his shoulder.

The door spat him out into a long hallway with a door on the other end. Ace ran as fast as he could, the Pitbull hot on his heels, revving the chainsaw as he went. Ace pushed open another door, entering a large square room. He only made it a few feet in before he felt searing pain on his calf. He slammed onto the floor, grabbing his leg. The Pitbull moved toward a small generator and stepped on a pedal mounted to the floor. A large metal barred door lowered from the ceiling, trapping Ace in the other part of the room. He struggled to his feet as the lights came on, revealing large metal spikes on each side of the room. The spikes began to spin, moving slowly toward the center of the room. Ace hobbled across the room as quickly as he could. He could see an open door at the other end, that motivated him to move faster despite the pain in his leg.

Another barred metal door slammed down in front of him, blocking his escape. On the floor at his feet was a trap door. Ace quickly crouched down, lifting up the door. He struggled with the door's weight, the pain in his leg slowing him down, but the spinning spikes creeping closer helped him channel his strength. Once he got the door opened high enough, he slipped inside, falling a few feet onto a sloped tunnel. The floor was soaked with blood, causing Ace to slide down through the dimly lit tunnel.

A set of spinning spikes startled him. Ace turned his body, narrowly missing the spikes. A second set of spikes appeared on the opposite side of the tunnel. Again, he turned his body to avoid the spikes, only to slam into some wooden boards. The impact sent waves of pain through his body. Before he could even process it, he fell from the tunnel and landed in a pool of water.

Ace's body was hit with an intense chill. He didn't think it was possible for water to be this cold. He forced himself to the surface, taking a deep gasp of air. He looked around the pool, seeing two bodies floating nearby, their blood leaving a reddish hue in the water. He groaned in disgust before seeing a ladder on the opposite side of the pool. He limped to it, the chill of the water making his wound sting even more.

After climbing out of the pool, Ace looked around the room before spotting a door behind him. He went towards it, keeping the weight off his injured leg. He turned the knob and opened it slowly. He found himself inside a short hallway, a large fan on the wall just outside. He shuffled down the hall, emerging into a sewer. He moved along a raised concrete walkway, a metal guardrail keeping him from the water below.

Coming to the end, he took a good look around. In front of him was another pool of water. A small concrete bridge crossed the pool about twenty feet away, a dull light illuminating the water. To his left was another concrete walkway, small ladder leading up to it. Ace slowly lowered himself into the water, wading over to the ladder. He climbed it slowly, the pain from his leg becoming worse.

"Where's the exit?" he hissed.

He moved along the walkway, stopping at the end of the bridge. At the end of the bridge was a door, one Ace could see was locked. He continued down the walkway. In the dim light, he could see the outline of second bridge. In front of it was a body slurped in a wheelchair. The sight chilled him. He moved towards the body, glancing around for a way out. Arriving at the body, he could tell it had been down there a while. It was badly decomposed, making their breed unknown. On the ground next to it was a small piece of paper. Ace bent down and picked it up. A message had been written on it, the words faded with time, but were still legible:

Behind the locked gate at the far end of the sewer, there is a ladder which will take you to the old ward. If you could make it through there, you will find an elevator leading outside. You would be the one who escaped. You might be the one who survived.

Ace stared at the message a few moments longer. He looked passed the body, seeing the locked gate. He went towards it, finding a doorway to his right. Heading inside, he saw the ladder on the wall.

"Thank God!" he exclaimed, moving to the ladder.

He climbed the ladder, the motion further aggravating the wound on his leg. Finally, he made to the top and into another room. In front of him was a metal cage, behind which sat a desk and some shelves. To his left was door, one Ace hoped wasn't locked. He moved inside the cage, inspecting the desk for more clues. A manilla folder on top of the desk had a bloody handprint on it. Ace opened the folder and found a paper with some notes written on it. Ace picked up the paper and read the words:

1:00 P.M.: STEM system operation test begins.

1:15 P.M.: Success. Conformation of brainwave synchronization; losses minimal. Continuing the experiment. Agent collects the data.

1:30 P.M.: Anomaly occurs. Not with the subject, the stenographer claimed they weren't feeling well and fell into a coma for reasons unknown. Doctor orders the STEM system terminated.

1:45 P.M.: Staff began complaining of nausea and falling unconscious one after another. Those who can still move plan their escape from the hospital but for unknown reasons are unable to. Though the STEM system should have been deactivated, the subjects maintained brainwave synchronization with the host.

2:00 P.M.: He...that dog appeared.

Ace read the paper multiple times. His mind was racing over the words. What is STEM? Who was the dog? The White Shepherd? Ace folder the paper and stuffed it in his pocket. He could think about this later, he needed to get out and regroup with Rosie and the others. Hopefully backup had arrived. He left the cage and walked towards the door, pressing the button on the wall to open it. He went through the door, rounding a corner to a hallway leading to another door.

Ace pressed his ear against the door, listening for movement on the other side. Hearing nothing, he opened the door and entered a small room, closing the door behind him. The room was mostly barren, the only things present were a small desk and a large metal locker. On the other side of the locker was another door. Ace moved towards it, but familiar groans and the sound of a revving chainsaw made him stop in his tracks. Thudding footsteps quickly approached the room.

"Damn! I need to hide!" Ace said, looking around the room.

He moved to the locker, quickly climbing inside. He held his breath as the footsteps got closer. A loud bang came from the room's door, the Pitbull letting out a snarl. Several more bangs were heard before the door flew from its hinges and landed hard on the floor. Through the grate on the locker door, Ace could see the Pitbull stroll into the room, chainsaw in hand. He revved the chainsaw, swinging at the desk, the teeth sending wood splinters through the air. Ripping the saw from the desk, the Pitbull angerly swung it around, gouging the walls. He charged through the door next to the locker, moving deeper into the ward. Ace waited a few moments longer before he decided to leave.

The locker door opened with a small squeak as Ace slid himself from inside. He crept through the doorway beside the locker, finding a short hallway lined with small windows and a large set of double doors that were wide open. Ace could see the Pitbull beyond the double doors, widely knocking things over inside the room. Ace quietly crept down the hall, keeping an eye on the Pitbull as he passed. He was standing in the center of the room, his head moving side to side. After Ace passed the doors, he rounded a corner, the hall coming to a dead end. He let out a sigh.

'Looks like I'll have to sneak past him,' he thought angerly.

He turned around and shuffled back to the room. Stopping outside the door, he peeked around the corner. The Pitbull had moved towards the back of the room, allowing Ace to sneak inside. He moved to the left side of the room and hide behind a stack of boxes. The Pitbull had walked through an open door on the opposite side of the room, swinging his chainsaw about in the hall Ace had just been in.

Ace moved around the boxes and quickly shuffled through another set of open double doors and into another large ward. The room was filled with more boxes, storage cabinets, and medical files scattered over the floor. The Pitbull had gone silent now, sending a chill up his spine. He left the room as quickly as he could, traveling through a short hallway into another storage room, a door on the opposite wall.

Ace listened for the Pitbull, half expecting him to suddenly burst into the room. The continued silence kept him on edge. He opened the door, revealing a long hallway with an elevator at the end. The sight made Ace sigh with relief; he was finally getting out of here. The pain in his leg had finally numbed enough to be tolerable, so Ace was able to jog towards the elevator without much difficulty. A loud bang was heard, and the room door was thrown wide open. Ace turned and saw the Pitbull staring at him, eyes bulging with anger.

"Oh shit!" he exclaimed and ran towards the elevator.

The Pitbull was nearly upon him as he made it to the elevator. He dove through the open gate door and shut it before the Pitbull could reach him. He angrily slashed at the gate with his chainsaw, showering Ace with sparks. He dodged them and pressed the button for the top floor, the elevator beginning its accent seconds later. Ace leaned his back against the wall, sighing in exhaustion. He was done with this place, maybe even crime fighting in general. He again hoped backup had arrived.

The elevator stopped a minute later, the gate opening to reveal a familiar hallway. On the floor were the officers that were killed by the White Shepherd earlier. Ace sighed and started down the hall towards the door at the end of the hall. Halfway through, a massive earthquake struck the building, nearly knocking him from his feet, dust and debris from the walls and ceilings falling onto the floor. He ran for the door, another strong quake making him stumble. He quickly recovered and burst through the door. He found himself back inside the main lobby, the bodies of the deceased still littering the floor. There was no sign of backup anywhere. A third, violent quake shook Ace from his thoughts. He ran through the lobby, arriving at the front doors. By this point, Ace's patience had run dry. He raised his arms and forced the doors open with his palms.

Author's Note: Here's Chapter One of YCKMH! I made a few changes from the Dog City cartoon by making Ace Ace's nickname, rather than it being his first name, and by changing Rosie's surname. Changes from the Evil Within are the time period. The game takes place in 2014, but since Dog City is set around the 1940s, that the time I went with. Like Hell Freezes Over, this story will update slowly, at least until either MHWA or Haunted are completed. As of right now, chapter 5 of both stories are about half done, as is chapter 1 of Hell Freezes Over. Also, I've finally completed chapter one of Redemption, so expect to see it uploaded soon. Anyway, enjoy the chapter! Constructive Criticism welcome.