Disclaimer: Danny Phantom and all related characters are the product of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon studios. Hermes Haight, Horage Gauge,Killjoy, andrelated character are the product of Midway Games. Silver and Kat/Electra are the product Silent Elegy.
PRE-NOTE: Said this a few times already, but I need to mention it again. This is a crossover with a game called the Suffering. That's a very mature, very dark themed survival horror game that I can only highly (oh so very highly) recommend to people over 18. That said, the fic isn't that dark.
It is, however, still darker than my usual fare. It's rated mostly for caution since there is a great deal fighting, although most of it is merely alluded to. There are adult themes and a lot references to death. I mean a lot. Phew, this warning is hard to write without spoiling everything. Oh, yeah, and there's no cussing, but one of the characters says "bastard" a time or two.
That said, like it says in the summary, Danny is being attacked with his own insecurities and personal demons, so expect a great deal of angst. Expect to be disturbed by some things, and outright repulsed by others. Don't be afraid to post flames; I am expecting them for this. But please, make them intelligent. Now...
East of Maryland is an island by the name of Carnate. It is a dark place with a long and bloody history. First settled by Puritans, they disbanded the community after only a few decades, having caused the wrongful deaths of eleven people on the deceitful words of three children.
The next known story in its gruesome history details the wreck of a Spanish slave galleon. Their ship smashed to pieces on the rocks of the beach, the Spaniards barely escaped with their lives. The black slaves they were transporting also survived in the hold. However, rather than rescue them and risk their own lives, the traders left them behind to be eaten by rats. The ship still rests in the place where it crashed, though it has quite rotted away.
In the late nineteen hundreds, a family bought the island and built a huge mansion on the western side. No one knows what occurred during that time; the family was remarkably close-mouthed about the whole affair. They moved almost immediately, and their home became an asylum.
The Carnate Institution for the Alienated was run by one Dr. Killjoy, an insane man who, despite his best intentions, caused a great deal of suffering. Few of his patients survived his depraved treatments, and fewer still came out of it with anything resembling sanity. Insane when they went in, perhaps, they were near-mindless when they came back out. The institution was closed, thankfully, when Killjoy disappeared.
During the second war to end all wars, the island was converted into a military barracks and outpost called Fort Maleson. It was simply more blood to be spilled on the soaked ground and devoured by the growing evil of that place. The colonel, whose name is no longer recalled, was an unsettled man at best. The island drove him over the edge. After the coincidental crash of a German airplane, he proclaimed that there were spies operating among his soldiers. In refusal to acknowledge that the crash had not been a sign of treason, he forced his men into a firing squad for the brutal execution of three of their comrades and friends. The bodies of the deceased were left on the cliff where they died to be consumed by crows and rats. Their skeletons remain tied to the stakes to this very day. The army headquarters, finally hearing of the colonel's mad ideals, launched an inquiry and declared the man unfit for duty. Rather than submit to a court martial, he locked himself in his office and placed the barrel of his pistol in his own mouth.
At the end of the war, the island was given to the Department of Corrections and turned into a prison colony. Abbott State Penitentiary was not a pleasant place, even by the standards of most prisons back then. It was the place where the state sent men on death row, and the worst examples of society could be found behind those iron bars. Many innocent men were sent to Abbott, as to any other prison. But no one remains innocent there for long.
Abbott had the highest homicide rate of any other prison in the country, and possibly the world. More important, but less aggrandized was the prison's suicide rate. Few men survived Abbott; those who were not killed often killed themselves, especially among those who were sentenced to life.
During the prison's building, inmates were used as workers at a quarry near to the site. It was during a dig in a dangerous shaft than a cave-in occurred. No one knows exactly what happened there, but the theories are numerous. The corrections officers claimed that the inmates were crushed and instantly killed. Other reports state that they were left to die slowly from blood loss, starvation, or suffocation, depending on the nature and severity of their wounds and location in relation to the only source of oxygen. As one can imagine, the inmates favored the latter version of events, and used it as an excuse to skin said C.O.'s alive before lynching, or hanging, them.
The most notable of inmates was Horace Gauge. It is no longer known for what crime he was sent to Abbott, but it hardly matters. While incarcerated, he became convinced that his wife was in insurmountable danger without his protection. While on a conjugal visit, he cut her, not once, but too many times to count while she slept. Her death was swift and painless; his was not. He was sentenced to the electric chair for his crime of passion, a painful death at best. Something went wrong, however, and executioner Hermes Haight was forced to electrocute him three times. Legend has it he was still buried alive.
It was shortly after this event that Haight himself snapped. He had been executioner for twenty-seven years, a role that he cherished. He was a sadist and a merciless killer. Only the fact that his murders were state-condoned prevented him from sharing his victims' cells. It was well-known that his preferred method of execution was the gas chamber. He introduced a green dye into the mixture so as to watch the victim's panic as they saw it coming. In the end, he went into the chamber himself. It was sealed up after that.
The latest chapter in the island's history is the day the land finally rose up in rebellion. The rumors of that mad time are as diverse as the people who survived it. General consensus states that horrifying monsters made up of every bloody act ever perpetuated on that soil awakened to massacre the unwitting humans trapped there. Few people truly believe the tales, but those who survived it know. It was a single night of the purest terror. The island was evacuated shortly after dawn; there were far too few people to rescue. The bodies of the deceased were left behind for retrieval later, a time that never arrived.
Had they gone back, they might have realized they left someone behind.
A/N: I would like to address a review from What If?. Random, the Guardians were simply pointing out that Clockwork had done something to change the future of an entire planet, which is what he was reaming them out for. Although, that's an interesting idea...