Farewell to our Good Friend Spike
"Get up, kid."
There was an unconscious dragon lying on the cold, concrete floor within a boxed-in room, with a ceiling and walls made of iron. There were no doors. There were no windows. There was only a single, solitary light in the center of the ceiling, which was the only source of brightness in the otherwise blinding room. Straight below the light was a soft, small, blue chair; a chair with cuffs on the arms.
The guard was getting impatient. "I said get the fuck up!"
The dragon stirred. He was met with a stomp on the genitals.
"OW, FUC-" He was silenced by the sudden application of duct tape around his mouth. "Quiet, kid. You certainly don't want to speak out against your punishment...surely there are worse things than this." The guard ripped the tape off his lips.
A Changeling wearing a green tuxedo, complete with an orange bow-tie, stood behind the chair and read out a piece of stationery. He had a name tag on his chest. It read "Mr. Toloid".
"Spike Prime Belle, do you agree to repent by suffering prolonged capital punishment on the honorable behalf of Her Majesty, Queen Chrysalis, the leader, protector, and savior of all Changelings, everywhere?"
Spike spoke up. "No, because like I said before, I didn't fuckin' do anything!" His obscene response was met with a very hard punch to the back of the head. This made Spike yell "Ow". Afterwards, Spike briefly tended to his aching head by rubbing it with his hand.
It was time to get right down to business. The guard threw Spike into the chair. As his arms made contact with the arms of the chair, the cuffs locked into place. He struggled and struggled, but his efforts would prove useless. He was stuck there.
The guard spoke up. "What should we do to him, sir Toloid?"
"Don't worry," said Mr. Toloid. "I've got plans...how about we begin with his ears?"
Spike couldn't help but feel nervous. He knew these people were serious, he knew they wanted to hurt him very badly, and he knew that he was going to suffer quite possibly the most agonizing pain he would ever feel.
"Bring out the earwig," said Mr. Toloid. "I think his ears need to be to cause of him wigging out." The guard had quietly chuckled at this pun, then pulled out a larger-than-usual earwig out of his sack, which he wore around his neck.
Spike cringed a bit. He was a closet entomophobe, and he surely didn't like the idea of a bug crawling through his earlobes.
The guard got a hold of Spike's head to assure that he wouldn't resist, then gently placed the earwig at the exterior of his ear canal. Spike could feel the pest crawling deeper within his ear, occasionally stopping to bite. When it reached his eardrum, it started biting on it. Spike yelled in pain, as he could feel his soft, thin eardrum slowly being bitten away. The bug enjoyed the taste of his delicate membrane. Soon enough, his hearing ability in his left ear was gone. The bug, after finishing his meal, crawled out of Spike's ear and fell to the floor. The guard crushed it.
Mr. Toloid enjoyed watching Spike squirm. "Well, now! How did that feel, little serf?" He asked.
Spike turned his head to Toloid and looked him straight in the eye. "That felt...terrible. But if that's the worst you can do, you're a joke."
"Then prepare for your claims to be proven invalid." Mr. Toloid walked to a corner of the room with the guard in tow.
"Listen carefully," Toloid said, quietly. "Get the screw, and...have some fun with his nose."
The guard nodded. He reached back into the neck-sack, and pulled out a metal screw. Mr. Toloid walked behind Spike, and held his head in a tight grip. Spike, once again, attempted to break his head free of the grip, but it was no use. The guard walked closer. Spike could see he was holding a metal screw. The guard suddenly broke into a sprint, and tackled Spike right in his chair. The chair didn't move. It was built into the floor. The guard, now on Spike's torso, jabbed the pointy, sharp end of the screw right into the middle of his nose. Spike screamed from the immense pain he felt from being stabbed in the nose with a screw, and he could feel the warm sensation of blood oozing out, traveling from the precious cartilage to the outside world. The guard twisted the screw and forced it in deeper, tearing through the innards of his precious nose. After five minutes of continuously twisting, the guard retracted the screw, then shoved it deep into Spike's left nostril, causing more bleeding and louder screaming from Spike. He was muted by another sudden application of duct tape to the mouth. His screams were muffled, and to make up for his inability to let out his agony vocally, he started shedding a few tears from the pain. Toloid noticed this, and ordered the guard to retract the screw and store it in his neck-sack. He took the guard to a corner of the room again, and whispered to him.
"I think we should go after his eyes next. That is his next outlet of pain, aside from defecation, although he has been slipped with constipation-inducing drugs which will render him unable to do so."
The guard nodded again, and pulled out a pair of scissors. Toloid went behind the chair and gripped Spike's head once more, while the guard stood right in front of Spike. He was still shedding a few tears from the nostril stabbing, and making panicked noises, as if begging for mercy. Those noises were muffled by the tape.
Toloid closed his left eye and made a short, aerial stabbing motion with the scissors. The aim was switching between Spike's left and right eyeballs.
"Eenie meenie, miney mo...grab a mule by his hoof...if he hollers, let him go..." The guard's rhyming went so quiet that it was completely inaudible. A minute or so later, he carefully raised his voice. "...You...are...it."
The scissors were pointed straight at Spike's right eyeball. Mr. Toloid grabbed the eyelid and held it open, making sure Spike wouldn't close his eyes in an attempt to prevent the inevitable. The guard slowly moved the scissors toward his eye, with Spike's muffled winces being heard every second of the way. When the scissors and his eye were only a simple inch away from each other, Spike made the loudest muffled noise of terror he did. It was still not very loud. The scissors slowly made a crevice in Spike's soft, delicate eyeball, forcing its way through his pupil. Spike's muffled protests and noises of agony were louder than ever, yet the tape still wouldn't even slightly peel off. Much blood was leaking from the tear in his eyeball, but that wasn't enough for the guard and Mr. Toloid. The guard slowly forced the scissors in deeper, grinding through the fleshy vitreous body, and eventually reaching the hylanoid canal, with the very tip of the scissors poking the optic disc. Spike almost fainted from the intense, searing pain of his eye being gouged with scissors. Just when he thought it couldn't get worse, Spike felt the scissors twisting, forming a round, bloody tunnel in his eyeball. The guard yanked the metal, bloody scissors straight out of his gouged, deformed eyeball and watched as a fountain of blood poured from the eyeball, and the eye socket.
The guard wasn't finished yet, though. He pulled a little, thin, metal needle out of his neck-sack, and forcefully stabbed it in the pink, delicate tear duct of his other eye, puncturing it. Spike made another muffled noise of hellish agony. It took the guard a little more force, as the tear duct was somewhat harder than the eyeball. In a few seconds, the needle was sunken into the deep, fleshy interior of his tear duct. He yanked it out, then stabbed it in again. He yanked it out, stabbed again. Yanked out, stabbed again, with more and more blood gushing from the tear duct with each stab. He stabbed it in one more time, and forced it in deep, leaving it there.
Spike couldn't even cry now; his eye was destroyed, and the other's tear duct was punctured with a needle. This briefly satisfied the guard and Mr. Toloid. The two went to the corner again and briefly huddled.
"Toloid, have we fucked him up enough?"
"No, but we're getting there. He can't see properly, smell properly, nor hear properly...I don't think he should be able to taste properly, either."
The guard nodded once more. He retrieved a bottle of ethanol alcohol from the sack. It was labeled "CLEAN REFRESHING WATER".
Mr. Toloid ripped off the duct tape from Spike's lips. He was too tired, worn out, and beaten up to let out an agonizing scream. The guard popped the cap off the bottle, and stuck the tip of the bottle into his mouth. He pointed it downwards. The burning ethanol went gushing down Spike's throat, and he drank it against his will, with the flaming-hot sensation burning his innards, all the way down from his throat into his stomach. He drank until the bottle was completely empty, down to the last drip. Spike let out an exhausted moan. He just wanted out of this hellhole. He wanted to see his wife Rarity again. He wanted to reconcile with her. He wanted to see Twilight again. He wanted to see Ponyville again. But he knew that would never happen. This would be it. This is where he would die.
The guard retracted the bottle of alcohol and tossed it aside. He pulled one more object out of his neck-sack; an injection needle. It was filled with an unknown but probably dangerous serum.
"Any last words?" asked Mr. Toloid.
Spike didn't even say a word. He let out a small, sad, quiet whimper. Mr. Toloid kicked him swift in the balls, causing him to yell in even further pain. He let out a painful, loud sigh afterwards. Toloid slapped him across the face for that.
The guard forcibly stabbed him in the same tear duct as before using the injection needle. He pressed down on the plunger, and the serum came flowing into Spike's skull. He yanked out the injection needle, and threw it aside. Spike's skull suddenly felt hot. He was starting to make panicked whimpers. His whole head started feel really hot. As each second passed, it felt hotter. A few seconds later, it felt like the outdoors on a summer day. A few more seconds after that, it started feeling like it was close to the sun. A few seconds after that, it felt scalding hot, to the point where his panicking noises were louder and more prolific than the usual moans of agony. He started vibrating. His head was getting even hotter. He felt like throwing up. His vibrations were more violent. He noticed blood dripping down his face, and not just the blood from his eyes. It was leaking down from his forehead. He vibrated extremely violently. His head was deathly hot. The blood started leaking more.
And just like that, Spike's skull, brain, and all the inner, fleshy things within his head exploded into pieces. They splashed all over the room, and all over his two captors.
The assassin was finally dead. The Changeling Colony could finally sleep in peace again, knowing their beloved queen Chrysalis was safe and no longer in danger. They had plans for a surprise attack on Ponyville tomorrow, so everyone had to be on their A-game. It would be revenge for the Canterlot incident. Until then, all was well.
