Fallen Gods

Several years ago:

The cramped, dark and stuffy, hiding in a barrel of apples during the summer can contribute to that. It sucks, but it’s better than a flying lesson from Dash. I like living and would love to continue to do so, but her.

Dash’s over overwhelming enthusiasm in me learning to fly is the greatest threat to my life… I’m going to have to move far away, dye my scales and go by a new name. Hmm, Spike… Spear, Spine, Thorn, Prickle? No, the last one is just a joke at my expense. Ponies would be calling me Little Prick, then again, It’s better than not living.

I can't see anything in here and I need some air. I flick a claw and carve out a small peeping hole to make sure that the cost is clear, instead of seeing the large rear end of an orange mare.

“Applejack?” I whisper.

She turns her head around bewildered, searching for the origin of the voice. “Spike? Is that you?” She asks.

“Yeah, keep it down. Rainbow Dash might be around?”

Apple Jack rotates to the barrel and stares in the peeping hole with one very round emerald eye blocking my view. “Spike, were you staring at my rump?” She asks. I’m glad she can’t see me blush.

“No! Not in any way whatsoever! Your rump was in the way of my hole. Wait, why did that sound weird?”

She stands against the barrel leaving me with a view of her stomach.

“No.” The lid of the barrel comes off, letting the sun shine burn my eyes. “What’s weird is the fact that you are hiding In a barrel of apples staring at my rump.” The silhouette of AJ’s head and hat blocks the suns rays, her features shadowed, but I still see her smile as she looks down at me, huddled on a pile of apples.

“Now, what’s got you down?” She asks in her warm southern accent reaching out a hoof to pull me out. I grab her hoof and she pulls me out easily and places me on the ground beside her. I stare at the dirt and kick it around a bit not wanting our eyes to meet. Dash is trying to kill me and AJ might think that I'm a pervert.

“Now, if you'd be so kind to elaborate on your predicament.” She says. I look at her, she tips her cowboy hat upwards. The bangs of her blond mane hangs just over her forehead. “There’s no leaving till you do!” She lifts her chin up and peers down at me, she frowns making her chin wrinkle. I might as well tell her.

“Rainbow Dash wants to teach me how to fly.”

“That’s great sugar! Now, why-“

I cut her off. “My first lesson, was me being dropped from several hundred feet.”

Her eyes widen, appalled and silent for a brief moment. “Well, did you fly?” She asks.

“No, just fell. I’m pretty good at it. So good, that I never want to try it again!”

“And that’s why you are hiding, from Rainbow Dash.” I nod at her. “Granted, that her methods are a tad bit… extreme. But, she is the best flyer in Equestria!”

“Who likes throwing baby dragons from a high position.” I cut my eyes at her. “So, before Dash’s projected aspirations kills me, I’m going back to hiding in the barrel.” I gesture at the barrel behind me with a thumb. “If you could seal me in, that'd be great.”

“Spike, Dash is… going through some emotions. I know she has been a bit-“

“Crazy?”

“Yeah, but.” She drops her head and sighs, then picks it back up giving me a gentle and apprehensive smile. I know what she going to say, I just don't want her to. “She’s going through some emotions, it’s the anniversary of Twilight leaving Ponyville.” Damn you AJ.

“I know.” I could never forget. I mentally locked the date, even if I didn't mark it in a calendar. I'm never going to. It hurts every day, and every day, I lose her more and more. I’m forgetting her voice, her smile till she is a faceless pony.

“We all miss her Spike.” She says, I turn away from her to hide a tear, but I can’t hide a sniffle.

“I'm just going to, to…” I try to find in my head to go, but nothing comes to mind. “I’m going to leave. Sorry if I disturbed you AJ.” I walk away from her, as she says my name several times. I ignore her, I don’t want her to see me cry.

“Spike!” My name is called from afar by somepony that I was avoiding. Now, I don't care. I keep staring at the ground quickly wiping my tears.

“Spike! You're not running away from lesson two mister!” Dash flies around me, to my front. All I see is her lower half floating over the ground. I keep strolling hoping that she'll stop talking.” Now, we just have to start on your launching and-“

“Not now Dash.” I mutter to her. “I’m not up for it.”

“Not up for it? You better change that attitude or you gonna have to give me twenty wing push ups! She says in a playful confidence.

I stop walking and turn to her. “Look! I’m not up to it, okay!” I shout at her. Her eyes widen in shock and her mouth ajar. I shouted at my friend. I look at my claw, seeing it balled in a fist then let it go. Dash drops to the ground standing lugubriously.

“Dash! I’m- I’m so-“ I try to apologize, but Dash walks away slowly with her head down.

“It’s alright Spike. Maybe some other time.” She replies downhearted, as she heads towards surprised Apple Jack. What am I doing?

*****

Present day:

I bolt pass the front door of Rarity’s boutique, everything is spinning and I can’t catch my breath. I trip on the stoop, sliding down on the stares with my chin pressing against the mud, mixing with Rarity’s blood layered on my face. I want to vomit, but I haven't eaten anything to do so. Why? Why would…anyone? My perception is blocked with the horror of the potent smell of her blood.

I pour some water from the rain in my hands and quickly wipe Rarity’s blood off my face. All that is left of her is a corpse, soon to decay.

I push myself off the ground, suddenly not feeling my insides. Fear nearly paralyzes me, making my muscles feel like papier-mâché coated around a wire skeleton. The rain is unforgiving and yet, appropriate.

I turn around seeing Fluttershy struggle with the situation. Her face is frozen in shock, her mouth ajar as tears stream down her cheeks. She tries to walk down the steps, but instead slumps down with her body laying over them.

“She can’t be. She can’t be!” She echoes to herself with her head shaking slightly.

I stagger to her, trying to think and keep my feet stable. Apple acres, I have to go to Apple acres.

“Fluttershy! Look at me.” Kneel in front of her, holding her face in my claws. She bitterly sobs and whines as she looks away from me..

“Fluttershy! Look at me!” I yell at her gaining her attention. She gulps nothing then pants trying to alleviate her breathing.

“Okay, I need you to find help. There is a royal guard stationed at the train depot. I need you to find him and tell him what happened. He'll send word to the authorities. Tell him to send them to Sweet Apple Acres!” I instructor her.

She seethes and looks down giving me a nod. “Okay.”

“Repeat to me what I just said.”

“Go to train depot, find the royal guard, tell him what happened and to go tell them to go to Apple Acres.” She repeats it a couple of time like a mantra, she then stand on her hooves still repeating my orders to herself with her eyes shifting left to right.

I step back from Fluttershy spreading my wings. She doesn't say anything, don’t know if there is anything to say. I launch myself off the ground leaving a splash of water, dispersing in all directions below as I head to the sky.

The clouds grew darker, the wind relentless, fighting me with every beat of my wings. There is no steady flow, only erratic currents making me fly like a kite in a tornado. Passing houses and businesses; seeing all of Ponyville in a grayish blue tinge.

The ponies are absent in the streets leaving the visage of an abandoned town. I zip past Golden Oaks Library, Sweetie Belle inside taking care of it with no idea of Rarity’s… I don't know how to tell her after this, just hope that no more friends are found in the same manner.

Flying over the orchard, it’s vast reach nearly takes up my vision.

Green leaves and branches rock heavily, apples falling to the puddled ground, empty bushels left scattered and unattended. Applejack would collect the fruits even in a hurricane, so would Big Mac. I hope they had a change in mind. I hope that they are just home looking outside at the vicious weather through a window as they eat a late breakfast.

Pinkie, telling me that they are okay and that it was an incident which was morbidly insignificant, causing their tardiness. Thinking of possible optimistic situations only bolsters my anxiety.

The red constructed chicken coops behind a white wooden fence leading to a white arch covered in jungle ivy are my landmark before the Apple family’s home. A large red farm house with a connecting barred, windows in both first and second floor fixed with window garden boxes housing some daisies, the weathervane on top of the copula spins violently and the alley doors left a tad agape.

I notice Pinkie sitting outside against the side of the door with her hind legs curled to her, her head dropped hiding her face in her fore legs lapped over each other. Seeing her like that pushes the optimistic possibilities out the window.

I fly down landing roughly near her, my claws dig into the dense muck. I dash to her, hearing her sod grow stronger and stronger with every step.

“Pinkie!” I call out.

She lifts her head, turning to me surprised. She winces and continues to cry, the tears blending with the rain drops streaming down over her face. She gives that same expression that Fluttershy gave after seeing Rarity’s butchered body. I just wonder, how did Applejack die?

“Pinkie?” I softly say, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“No!” Pinkie drops her head back into her arms. “No! It’s not real!” She muffles.

“Pinkie.”

“It’s not real!” She screams. I take my hand back from her shoulder, and stand there next to her in the silence of the rain. It feels colder now, fear manipulating the temperature making it appear lower. I look over her, she’s huddled together, scared and confused. I am too, but, I can't let that get to me. Not now, even if I want to. Hold it till later Spike, then you can cry too.

I crouch to be eye level to Pinkie, trying to muster the words I have to ask. “Pinkie, where is Applejack?” I ask her as I veer my gaze into the wet ground before her. She doesn’t move for a moment. I anticipated that she'd just stay still, mourning, but then she slowly turns her head to me, eyes filled with angered with tears flowing down them and her lips displaying disgust.

“Go look for yourself.” She groans, then hides her head back behind her fore legs. “They are in their rooms.”

They? My heart plunges till I can't feel it anymore.

I was about to ask her to stay where she is at, but where else would go? Instead I tell her.

“I'll be right back.” She stay quiet.

I leave her, turning the corner of the farmhouse then enter the broken front door. I assume that it was either Pinkie or… I don't know who to call the thing that did this to some innocent ponies, I just loathe them. I just push the door open and enter, this time; I expect dead bodies.

A single word that Pinkie said rings in my ears. “They.”

The house has a familiar atmosphere: grey tones painting the hallway bleak, broken walls, décor knocked on the ground along with a miscellaneous of items. The acquainted feeling of me entering Dash’s home and Rarity’s boutique finds its way back to me, with dark omens hidden behind every wall. There’s no point in calling out names.

Ceramic figurines crunch under my feet as I pass the kitchen doorway, noticing the forks, spoons, drawers, plates and bowls strewn across the floor. The trellis that hung over the kitchen sink -that once carried gardenias- now torn down and the flowers stomped on. What was the reason for this?

A search like your run of the mil burglars, but your run of the mil burglars wouldn’t gruesomely and heartlessly torture Rarity then leave her as I found her. Limbs severed, stabbed, burned and disfigured. Such a grisly scene there, but what about here? Is Apple Bloom here? Her and Sweetie Belle had a sleepover last night, but if she came home during… Another truth I would have to break to Sweetie Belle.

I continue through the hall with my body suddenly feeling light yet fear slows them as if it’s gravity holding me back. I can't shake it, so I just work with it passing through a threshold with the door wide open: Granny Smith’s room. The old fashioned décor and antique furniture are a giveaway, so is the fact that Granny Smith lies on her back with her fore legs crossed over her chest and dried blood under that seeped into the bed sheets. Her face is strangely at peace as if this was her wake. I would fight the tears that border my eyelids, but there is none left. Pinkie saw Granny Smith like this, and the others.

I leave Granny’s room with the horror compounding. I can't even walk or see straight as I stumble into Big Mac’s room, only seeing an unmade bed and pulled out drawers from his oak dresser. He’s not here. Maybe, I won't see him. Maybe I won’t see Apple Jack, but that word again rings in my head. They. I want to hope, hope that Pinkie saw some other ponies and not the rest of the Apple Family.

I pass Big Mac’s room with the little hope I gained and more stable legs, then my high hopes crumbles on itself as I peer into AJ’s room, see her lying flat on the ground next to her bed in a pool of dried blood, and Mac laying on his side behind her. Her legs severed and placed in position of their origin; her eyes are voided of that lively glisten, staring into nothing. There is a smile carved on her face from cheek to cheek. Big Mac’s has his wounds on his torso.

Multiple stab wounds with crusty blood circling them. A large hole cut into his chest showing it empty. No heart. My hind legs start to feel like gelatin. Unable to hold me up, I fall on my ass with my back against the hallway wall adjacent to the room. I just stare at my friends, dead on the floor. That appending lost feeling compounds and constricts me.

A sound of hoof steps beating against the wooden floor at the entrance of the hall.

“Royal Guard! Don’t move!”