Once upon a time, before EverAfter Asylum was even constructed, there was a village called Hamelin. And in this village, there were two twins. This is their story…
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Posie looked down, broken and hysteric from the events that had taken place. She clutched the spot where her left arm had been, which was now just a small, bandaged nub. Her sister, Rosie, realizing what had she had done, looked down at her bandaged hands, thick with the scent of blood, and began to laugh hysterically. Posie hesitated to think whether she laughed out of shear lunacy or whether she honestly believed what she had done was right.

The smell of rotted flesh and ash hung in the air. The chorus of screams that could once be heard from the hills had begun to fade, as the last tortured victims of the sickness succumbed into the sweet release of death.

Posie looked around, seeing the bodies of all the people she had ever known being feasted upon by rats with yellow eyes and bodies black as ash, that looked as if they had just emerged from a smoldering fire. They chewed upon the ashy corpses of the people of Hamelin, gnawing their jagged, yellow teeth into their exposed and twisted entrails.

Posie was forced to realize the sad reality of her situation. She had felt betrayed and alone, masked from the complex truth of the incident. The one who Posie blamed for her sorrow had already fled far from here.

All because he came, thought Posie, tearfully.
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One day earlier…
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Posie sat down by the side of the streaming river with tears pouring out of her brown right eye. The sound of the river crashing against the rocks at the edge drowned out the sound of her sobs. Through her burning eye, she could see the rolling, green hills far beyond the river. Behind her, all that waited was her village, where only turmoil, tragedy, and an endless supply of vermin waited.

As she sobbed, she brushed her long blue hair away from her face and rubbed the large bruise upon her forehead, slightly above her patched left eye, which was only an empty socket after an incident Posie wished she could forget. She pulled her knees close to her chest, trying to stop crying, but to little avail.

Posie worried about her twin, Rosie. They had both endured the same recent hardship, but Rosie had gone off to be alone. Rosie usually acted like nothing bothered her, unlike Posie, who was more sensitive; however, Posie suspected Rosie had gone off alone to cry, as she had, but was more secretive of it.

As she was sobbing, Posie heard the rustling of grass behind her. Fearing someone would catch her weeping, she quickly cupped her hands into the river and splashed the water against her face, drenching her hair and the neck of her clothes. The wetness of the face masked much of the evidence of her sad display.

She whipped around to gaze upon the person who had nearly witnessed her vulnerability. She looked up to see a tall young man, wearing a tattered, dirty black shirt and equally worn pants, breathing heavily, as if he had been running. His hand and arms appeared bandaged thoroughly, revealing no skin beneath whatsoever, leading Posie to believe the man had been in some sort of accident. His short brown hair fell in front of his glasses, which were so unnaturally thick that Posie could not even see the man’s eyes. Posie’s eyes were drawn to the shinny, metal flute encased in the man’s bandaged right hand.

The man looked down at her.

”Are you alright, little girl?” he asked.

Posie, not wishing to reveal any such information to a stranger, turned her head away and kept the sobs in her throat.

”I’m fine,” she said carefully, trying to not let a sob break free. “I just…almost fell in the river. I’m fine.”

”Are you sure?” asked the man, concerned.

”Yes,” she replied quickly.

Posie glanced back over to the man to see his reaction, but found it hard to decipher because of his thick glasses. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, the man spoke.

”Well, be careful,” said the man, with a strange tone that Posie could not decipher. The man was about to walk away, which filled Posie with relief. However, after several steps he turned back. “Actually, little girl, I was wondering… could you tell me anything about that village over there?” he said, pointing to Hamelin.

Yeah, it’s Hell, thought Posie, but she did not allow herself to say something so bold, however true the statement might have been. Still struggling not to relapse into crying, she answered the man’s question.

”Well, it’s called Hamelin,” she said. “It’s pretty small. It used to be bigger, but a lot of people left after the rats showed up.”

The man seemed to take interest in that last detail.

“Rats?” asked the man, curious.

Posie sighed. Because the rat infestation was a constant topic, Posie was tired of having to discuss it. Even worse was now that she had to inform an outsider of the problem, which would no doubt cause her to be embarrassed by the certain disgust of the listener

”Yes, we have a terrible rat problem,” she said. “They’re everywhere. Everywhere.”

“That bad?”

“Yeah. Some of the houses there were even boarded up and abandoned because they were packed with rats.”

The man rubbed his chin with his left hand, glancing towards the village. Posie anticipated that the man would express appalled or shocked emotions at the town’s problem. However, the man didn’t seem deterred in the least.

“Perfect,” said the man, to Posie’s confusion. “Thanks.”

With that, the man with the flute turned and walked towards the village. Posie pondered the man’s puzzling reactions for a moment longer, then, once the man was out of sight, she let loose the sobs that she had held back in her throat. The pain Posie felt could not go away; all she could do was let it out until her eyes were dry.
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The man with the flute, who called himself a piper, walked into the town and saw the sad sight that was Hamelin. All the residences in the town were nothing but old, dilapidated cottages, cheaply made from unpainted and, in some cases, rotting wood. Many of the cottages had begun erode, having holed roofs or termites crawling on the exterior walls. The only two decent buildings was the town bar called the Glass Coffin, which was painted red and seemed to be made more recently than the other buildings, and the town church, which was painted white and had a single stain-glass window. By some of the houses, there were gardens, but the crops appeared chewed and ruined, no doubt by the rats the piper had heard the girl speak of. The only shops were little fruit or vegetable stands, but judging from the crops, they had a hard time making a decent living. Beyond the outskirts of the town, the piper could see a forest, but it seemed too distant for much lumber to be carried without the aid of the carriage, which explained why building materials seemed somewhat lacking in quality.

As he entered the town, a single rat crawled over his shoe, glancing its red beady eyes up at the piper. The vermin’s wormlike tail curled as it scurried off. The piper looked around the town at least a single rat in almost every direction he looked. They crawled around in broad daylight, and no doubt there were many more hiding from the gaze of the sun, which looked as if it would set soon. The piper could just imagine the hundreds of rats that could lurk beneath the floorboards, in the crawlspaces, or behind the furniture.

The piper asked some of the peasants around town for the location of the mayor’s residence. He came upon yet another of the eroded cottages, that looked no bigger or grander than any of the other hovels. The piper knocked carefully at the door. The piper heard footsteps from the inside, followed by the creek of the door as it opened. Behind the door was a short, balding man. He looked up at the tall piper, suspiciously.

“Can I help you?” asked the mayor, cautiously.

”Hello sir,” said the piper. “I’m very sorry to bother you, but I’m just passing through your town and I thought I could help you with your rat problem.”

The mayor raised an eyebrow, then hesitantly invited the piper in.

The piper stepped inside to see that the inside looked as bad as the exterior. The walls looked drab and worn over time. They walked over to a simple wooden table with chairs. The mayor offered the piper a seat in a rickety, wooden chair. As he sat down, the piper felt another rat run by his shoe; however, the mayor did not seem to notice. The mayor sat across from him and put his hands on the table and began to speak.

”Now, I’m sure you mean well Mister…um…I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

”Just call me Piper,” said the piper. “I don’t much care for my real name.”

The mayor nodded absently at this, beginning to think Piper had a few screws loose.

“Uh…huh,” continued the mayor. “Well, anyway, Mr. Piper, I’m sure you mean well, but we’ve had rat-catchers here before and all have been unable to help our town’s problem.”

As if on cue, a rat scurried on the floor near the mayor, however he did not seem phased. Piper assumed that the townsfolk had just been desensitized to it over time.

“It’s quite severe, as you have no doubt noticed,” said the mayor. “You see, the rats started becoming a problem in the past year. Our town used to do pretty well for itself growing crops, trading with other cities, and having a large, helpful community.”

Piper nodded, listening as the mayor continued his story.

”However, the rats showed up, ruined our crops, scared off most of the residence that could afford to move, and now all that’s left is this poor little place. Nobody is sure how many rats there are, but it’s a good chance there are more rats than there are people in this town. The rats are a nuisance to everyone. And those stories about the Plague aren’t helping matters.

For the first time, Piper seemed taken aback by something the mayor had said.

”The…the Plague?” said Piper, curious.

The mayor rolled his eyes at the thought of the misinformation spreading around.

”It’s just some ridiculous rumor going around. People are saying a new disease is spreading around, mostly through rats, that can turn your organs black and rot your body from inside out in hours. Now they’re saying it’s been wiping out whole towns.” The mayor chuckled at the outlandish nature of the rumors. “Crazy, eh?”

Piper looked down at the table, as if he was lost in another world. He began to sweat.

”Personally,” said the mayor, “I think it’s a bunch of bull. If anything, it’s probably just a flu blown out of proportion. Just gossip.”

“Yeah… yeah, just gossip,” said Piper, eyes on the table. The mayor coughed to get Piper’s attention. He looked up and straightened his glasses.

”Sorry,” said Piper. “I’m... not comfortable with disease. I’m sorry for interrupting.” Piper put his hands back on the table and nodded towards the mayor. “Go on.”

The mayor coughed and continued.

”Well, like I’ve said, everyone whose said they can solve the rat problem has failed. They’ve said it’s impossible. I’m sorry sir, but I doubt very seriously you can help us.”

Piper stopped for a moment, taking the mayor’s entire story in. After some thought, he leaned in towards the mayor.

”Mr. Mayor, by sundown, I guarantee every single rat will be gone from this town.”

The mayor laughed at the boy’s boldness and naïve nature.

”I’m sorry, boy, but I just can’t believe that. What makes you any different from every other guy whose said that?”

Piper put his right hand on the table, with his flute clenched in his fist.

“This.”

The mayor looked down at the flute, then back up at Piper.

”You’re joking right? What are you going to do? Music the rats to death?”

Piper smiled.

”Trust me. I have my ways.”

The mayor saw that Piper seemed to think he truly had the ability to do such a feat, but he doubted if that certainty was grounded. However, the mayor saw that denying him would lead to nowhere, so he decided to humor him.

“Alright son, I’ll bite,” he said. “Tell you what. I’ll give you one chance. If you can really do this, I’ll give you a shilling for the head of each rat, straight from Hamelin to you.”

Piper seemed to frown at this statement.

”Are…are you sure you can afford that?”

The mayor smiled.

”I’m sure that problem won’t come up,” he said.

Piper nodded and got up from the chair.

”I’ll be down at the river,” said Piper, walking towards the door. “You should get someone to count the rats. There’s going to be a lot.”

”I’ll get right on that.”

Piper opened the door and exited the house. Once Piper had laughed, the mayor snorted with laughter.

”What a dumbass,” he said.
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Posie sat by the edge of the river, having recently released all the tears she possibly could. Her right eye was red around the iris and the bruise above her patched eye had begun to show black. She was trying to arrange her hair in a way to hide it when she heard the rustling of grass behind her again.

“You know, you don’t have to go so much trouble, little girl,” said Piper, approaching behind her.

Posie turned around quickly, startled by his sudden reappearance.

”I have a name, you know,” said Posie, irritated.

Piper smacked himself on the forehead with his bandaged hand.

”How rude of me,” he said. “I should have introduced myself. I’m Piper. And you are?”

Posie looked up and down at the strange man.

”Posie,” she said.

Piper straightened his thick glasses.

”Well Posie, I’m just saying you shouldn’t hide your tears.”

Posie was so shocked by this bold statement, she felt as if her heart skipped a beat. The only person who knew what she came to the river for was Posie. However, Piper spoke as if it was an obvious fact. Posie glared at Piper.

”I…I wasn’t,” she stammered, but Piper interrupted.

”The red around your eye says different,” said Piper. “Really, crying is nothing to be ashamed of.”

Posie, now beginning to dislike this bold man intensely, turned away.

“I…I…you don’t know what you’re talking about!” she said. “Besides, it’s none of your business!”

Posie turned his back to Piper. Piper looked down, sad that he had unintentionally offended her. He honestly just wanted to make her feel better, but Piper’s social handicap made this difficult. Suddenly, Piper had an idea to make her feel better, as well as a means to kill two birds with one stone.

“I’m sorry,” said Piper, although Posie did not turn around to reply. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have stuck my head where it didn’t belong. I’m sorry and maybe a song could help me make it up to you.”

Posie rolled her eye as Piper put the flute to his mouth.

”One song isn’t going to make up for-“

However, she stopped as Piper began to play his flute. The song he played was slow and soothing, stirring the emotions within her. Just hearing the beautiful tune played seemed to sooth her soul. For a few moments, her worries and anxieties faded away, as she felt the song Piper played. She suddenly felt as if she was worlds away from Hamelin, in a happier, better place. The song stirred her in a way no other song had before; she never wanted it to end.

Once it was done, she glanced up at Piper’s face.

”That…that was beautiful,” she admitted. “Where did you learn to play like that?

Piper adjusted his thick glasses and looked down at Posie, smiling.

”I’m glad you liked it…” he said, glad he had succeeded in making her feel better.

Out of nowhere, there arose the sound of one squeak after another. The sound started off quiet, but then began to grow louder and louder. Piper, remembering the aftereffect of his tune, looked down at Posie, concerned.

”…but you might want to move out the way now,” he said, looking up towards Hamelin. Posie looked as well, and saw the shocking sight.
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The mayor sat in his chair, drinking some freshly brewed hot tea from his mug. As he drank, he heard the sound of scratching underneath his floorboards. The mayor, familiar with the many rats that lay underneath his house, took this without much shock. He took another sip of his tea when he heard the scratching become more intense and frequent. Becoming annoyed, he stomped his foot on the floor. The scratching stopped momentarily, and the mayor went back to his relaxation. However, once again the scratching commenced, this time accompanied by the sound of many squeaks coming from outside.

”Dammit, what’s going on?” said the mayor, going to the door with his tea mug. It was uncommon, even in Hamelin, for the rats to be so lively at this hour. He opened the door, gazing upon the sight outside. Immediately, his mouth gaped open.

Out in the streets of Hamelin, thousands upon thousands of rats had run out in broad daylight. They emerged from houses, crawling from under the doors, and stormed into the streets in an unusually orderly fasion, forming one singular stream of rats. The rodent horde sped downward towards the river, moving around the shocked populous without incident. The mob of hairy, large vermin seemed almost never-ending, but they were all leaving Hamelin for the river.

The mayor’s cup dropped from his hands and shattered onto the ground. A rat weaved past his feet, ignoring the fresh tea soaking into the earth, and joined the bizarre exodus. As the mayor gazed upon this sight, he recalled the promise the man who called himself Piper had made and, more frightfully, he remembered his own promise to pay him a shilling for the head of each rat. Gazing upon the reality of the hole he had dug himself and the economy of his town in, the mayor spoke the only two words that he could use to express the disbelief and anger towards himself in.

”Oh, %#@$.”
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Posie shouted, while sitting upright in the fetal position, as the constant horde of rats sped past her. Piper stood behind her, trying desperately to calm he down.
“No, no, it’s alright!” said Piper, over her yells. “They’re not going to hurt you. They’re hypnotized.”

Posie, breathing heavy, looked at the horde, and saw that they were indeed not attacking her. The rats seemed dead to the world, each one following the other blindly. The rats charged into the streaming river, only to emerge from it on the other sides, several feet diagonal to where they entered. Posie had ceased screaming, she still found the sight odd and unsettling.

”W…why are they doing this?” said Posie, shaking a little. Although she was used to seeing several rats wherever she went, she had never seen this many at one time.

Piper looked at the rats going into and reemerging from the river.

”You mean why are they going into the river?” said Piper. “Well, I said the mayor I would kill all the rats, but I just can’t do that. They’re such cute little buggers. I figure what he doesn’t know won’t-“

Posie glared up at Piper.

”No, stupid!” said Posie, upset. “I mean, why are they coming here at all?”

Piper looked down at her.

”Oh…that,” he said, holding up his flute. “They came because I played this. My flute can kinda… control them.”

Posie gazed at the strange, shiny flute in disbelief.

”What?” she said. “Why can it do that? Where did you get something like that anyway?”

Piper, realizing what he had revealed to her and not wishing to discuss the complicated circumstances that led to his ownership of the pipe, started to step slowly backwards from Posie, adjusting his glasses nerviously.

”Well…umm…heh…” said Piper, becoming comfortable. “Well, the thing about that is…”

”Look out!” said Posie, abruptly.

“What?” said Piper, as he stepped backwards onto one of the rats in the horde. Piper slipped backwards, stumbling into the river. His glasses and flute flew from him onto the ground as he fell into the water. The injured rat he stepped on rejoined the horde without a second glance.

Posie, frightened that Piper might be hurt, ran over to the river, where Piper hung one hand on a rock near the bank, allowing his head to remain mostly on the surface, while the rest of his body remained underwater. Posie reached over and pulled on his hand. Piper weighted much more than her and therefore caused Posie much strain to get him onto land. However, once he had been pulled enough onto land, Piper was able to pull himself out the rest of the way. Posie fell backwards from the intense pulling she did with her entire body. Piper crawled on the surface, the water from his soaked clothes dripping down on the grass.

”Thank you,” said Piper.

Posie crawled to an upright position and looked towards Piper.

”Your welc-“ she said, but suddenly stopped as she gazed upon Piper. Piper’s bandages on his right hand had gotten wet and became partially unraveled from his fall into the lake. To Posie’s shock, the exposed part of Piper’s hand looked horribly and ashy. More noticeable than this was that the arm, defying all known physics and logic, appeared drastically larger now that the bandages were remorved. His fingers looked large and grotesque, with sharp claws at the end of them. Posie stared at the arm, eyes wide with disbelief.

Piper looked up at Posie, confused at her abrupt stop. With his glasses gone, Posie saw that Piper’s eyes had black irises and white pupils. Posie could not believe how he suddenly appeared as if he had come from another world. She opened her mouth to scream, but only a soft, croaking sound came out.

Piper, not aware he was exposed, looked at Posie concerned.

”What’s wrong?” he asked. However, after a moment, Piper touched his face with his remaining bandaged hand, and realized his glasses were gone. He looked over at his exposed arm, suddenly realizing why she was upset.

”Uh oh,” he said.
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End of Part One.