And the world changed as I slept
"T-Twilight no!" The words ripped from the dragon's jaws as he scrambled helplessly into wakefulness. Dirt and seemingly out of place flowers flew about as his limbs flailed around, desperate to pull the body to its feet.
"TWILIGHT!" He choked hoarsely, embers sputtering from his mouth as he lost control of his ignitable exhalations.
"TWILIIIIITGGHHHTT!!" He screamed this time, panic overtaking him as he struggled to turn his body about to survey his surroundings. The dragon pulled himself to his feet by hooking his claws into the cold stone wall.
"DON'T LEAVE ME HERE!" His voice was rapidly finding strength as adrenaline pumped through his body, desperate to catch up to the mare that had attempted to leave the cave without him.
'Spike you need to sleep.'
He called the mare's name again, hoping his voice would make her wings fold back before she left him. As he neared the opening of the cave, where distant lights cast a soft glow, he began go notice the cold.
'You're getting sick."
"I'm not sick, I'm not sick Twilight..." His mutters turned to warm wisps of vapor in the cold air, a visible rebuttal to his friend's words. He hobbled onward on ferociously tingling legs, the muscles under the scales snarling at him to sit, to lay, anything. In defiance, the dragon dropped to all fours and crawled out of the mouth of the cave and into the whiteness beyond.
He felt his breath catch in his throat as the cold air met him outside, the snow that had snuck its way in between his toes served as a jarring message that it was indeed winter. The dragon stood upon a cliff, high above a city decorated in vibrant and cheerful neon lights. Bright as they were though, they were pleasant to look directly upon, soft pinks and lime greens calling out across the snow covered outskirts to any lonely heart listening.
The neon messages decorating the buildings did little to comfort the dragon though, instead only fanning the flames of his panic.
"Wha-..." He sobbed out, tears springing to his eyes as he wrung his claws.
"TWILIIIIIGGGHHTTT!" The dragon desperately called into the night, hoping the mare would appear before him and explain this all as a joke.
"Sir?" A voice was heard behind him, obviously nervous but motherly nonetheless. The dragon whirled around, nearly losing his balance as he did so to see several ponies stopped in their tracks on a path leading down from the mountain-side and into the city. Closest to him was a female, young but unnaturally short for her clearly blossoming age.
"Do you know Twilight Sparkle?" He felt a tear roll done the scales of his cheek as he struggled not to let his voice break. A second pony, this one male and slightly older, came closer to stand next to the mare. The two exchanged a glance and looked back at Spike.
"Sir Spike? You've...been asleep for a little while." The mare chose her words carefully, obviously trying to avoid upsetting the distraught dragon any further. It did not work.
"No, I didn't. I wasn't sick..." He felt the panic beginning to bubble over, his anxiety growing ever more ferocious as he looked at the crowd of ponies gathering near the top of the path. Each looked a bit more frightened than the last, yet they all wore the same look of concern as the mare who had spoken to him. They wore brightly colored sweaters, scarfs, and earmuffs, no two the same. However, each appeared to be carrying a bouquet of flowers on their backs, the petals reflecting soft yellows and white.
"D-does anyone here know Applejack from Ponyville? Or R-Rainbow Dash?" Spike felt more tears roll down his face as his hopes sank lower, a dark truth lingering in his mind that he refused to accept as a possibility.
"Sir Spike, you're still in Ponyville." The male had spoken up this time, keeping his voice as calming as he could.
"But...no, where is everyone? Where..." The dragon paused to wipe a numb claw at his eyes when he noticed something that shook him harshly.
His claws had grown to monstrous proportions, so much that he did not recognize them as his own. He raised them both up to his eyes, his mouth agape and his stomach threatening to spill bile. The ponies watched him cautiously, caught between the desire to comfort him and to keep out of reaching distance lest he collapse from shock.
"This isn't real." He said aloud as he looked through the digits at the mare that had spoken to him. "This isn't real." He almost pleaded with her to agree with him, but to no avail. She shook her head slowly and pursed her lips. Spike was about to reason with her again, tell her this was a bad dream, when a familiar face crept up behind the mare.
"Pinkie Pie!" Relief flooded through him as he dropped back onto all fours and stumbled forward into the crowd. A few ponies cried out in shock and tried to make room for the dragon. The pink mare dropped the snow-white flower she held in her mouth and fell back on her haunches, fear wrenching her eyes wide as the dragon closed in.
"Pinkie! Where are we? W-where are the others?" Spike asked these questions despite his waning relief as he neared closer. The pink mare he had backed against a wall, the ponies encircling them preventing her escape, was no mare at all. She was but a filly. Indeed, she would have fit in the dragon's newly grown palm.
Spike sobbed openly as he took in her features. Sure, she had the puffy bubble gum mane, and the bright blue eyes. The resemblance was downright uncanny. But resting on her flank was not the familiar party balloons, but rather a simple cake design with three lit candles resting in the frosting. This filly's Cutie Mark, being but eight days old, designated her as not a party organizer, but rather a talented baker. In the days to come, Spike would come to find how rare such a seemingly simple talent was in the strange, industrialized world he had awoken to.
No sounds came from the hushed ponies watching the despairing dragon. He dropped his face down into the snow and wept bitterly, realizing he awoken in a place where he was utterly, horribly alone. All of his friends were gone, and Twilight Sparkle was nowhere to be found.
The filly, gingerly pushing herself up from the rock wall she had fallen against, looked at the behemoth weeping at her hooves. Hot tears melted the snow and steamed up into the air. Unsure of how to comfort a dragon, let alone the last surviving hero of Princess Twilight's court, she gently wrapped her hooves around the back of the creatures head and held her body against the rough scales. Possessing no voice to whisper comfort to the dragon, it was all she could do to sympathize with the gigantic body lurching for air and melting the snow below with wretched sobs.
'This is real,' he thought, 'I fell asleep.' He balled his claws into fists and gasped as the new length to his nails burrowed painfully into his palms. Warmth slipped between the digits and poured out to melt the snow below.
"Sir?" He felt a hoof that was not the filly's touch his body, this time just above where his shoulder-blades were.
"Princess Bluebell told us to keep you safe while you were asleep." Another set of hooves touched him, rubbing gently along his ribs.
"Why?" He asked in a voice that struggled to regain its composure.
An angle of vision that wasn't obscured by the filly holding his head or the snow that caked his face revealed a single white flower being laid in front of him. Nopony spoke up again, but rather one by one they laid their offerings next to him. They ranged from flowers to cinnamon cakes to the occasional jewel.
Understanding had graced Spike slowly, prompting him to lift his head and stare back at the filly who was comforting him. Her bright blues shined back at him, calling his mind back to a certain happy-go-lucky mare who had livened up even the darkest of moments. One last surge of tears welled up in his eyes as he looked down at what was the last reflection of his former life. The last remaining piece of a simpler time. He slowly and carefully slid his claws forward and cradled the filly in them, feeling an intense need to stave off the cold from her.
Author's Note
Please don't kill me tmfor this: I actually had more written. Much much more.
The problem was that I felt the later parts of what I had written affected the atmosphere I was attempting to establish. You see, I got the idea to write this one night at work while I was listening to the Hurry Up, We're Dreaming album by M83. The thing about it that made it unique for me was the atmospheric qualities of the music. I felt a sense of near constant displacement, and yet a strange sense of adventure. Like I was going somewhere, far away but I was going alone.
I felt this would carry well into fanfiction, and I had planned on making this as an ongoing series. However, there are limitations that I must abide by to keep the mood. I had wanted this "Pinkie Pie clone" to remain nameless and voiceless (hence she is mute) so that she would be subject to Spike's delusions, a living breathing coping mechanism if you will.
The later material I had written upset this formula.
However, if you like this material I may consider writing more in random episodes after I finish my other series.
But anyway, like comment, watch, or flame. All is welcome.
And hey, if you are interested in helping out a fellow artist and have some free time, when not check out my YouTube page? I'm a co-founder of a channel with my friends, and I've submitted two song to Equestria Daily that made it to Music of the Day posts:
http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLLrY4bUm616_mHLglIAhibSHZ5ngbH18L
Thanks guy!
-- Far Beneath the Streets
Spike slammed his back into the rough stone statue, sliding down roughly and pulling painfully at torn scales until he rested on his bottom.
"WHERE ARE YOU!?!?" He screamed hoarsely, his throat feeling like the inside was lined with wet sandpaper. His only reply was the silence that echoed in the near pitch black throne room. Anger bubbled in his stomach as each passing second he imagined the shadow watching him, laughing at him as it danced just out of reach of the flickering, luminescent crystals that lined the entrance and the black velvet throne at the far end of the grand hall.
Spike jerked his head around as a rush of wind fell upon his face. The throne room was enclosed though, only one of the many of the Shadow King's ancient hideaways far under the ground. A gust like that could only mean the shadow was near, racing by him.....
Spike's pupils shrank as a bright green light exploded into existence in front of him. It expanded like a flame, a bright white blossoming in the middle of the emerald inferno. Spike managed to get a claw in front of his face before he noticed a smell akin to that of burning plastic. The sensation lasted only momentarily before the ball of fire suddenly snaked forward, it's movement too fast and disorienting for it to be recognized as movement at all.
The dragon managed a choked cry of surprise as he was rocketed through the ancient weathered statue behind him, the scales on his back braving the grinding of the shattering granite. He landed amid the rubble, his back left leg going limp as it absorbed the weight of his body against the jagged debris of the stone-cutter's masterpiece.
The flame, though no match for the fireproof scales of the young dragon, was not without a damaging point. It was as if a hammer had been cloaked in the flame, swinging forward in perfect unison with the otherwise deadly blaze to crash through the dragon's claw and into his face and chest.
Spike struggled to get up onto all fours, his vision blurred at the edges, when a sharp pain shot up his arm. He drew his claw back with a gasp and cradled it near his ribcage as he crawled with the other into a sitting position. Taking a second to assess his surroundings, lest the shadow came to finish him off, Spike risked a look at the damage.
His claw was barely functional, with only one digit still responsive. The other two hung limply, pushed back to where it was obvious the bone was dislocated if not crushed altogether.
"Oh god." Spike gagged out, hiding the claw away near his ribcage lest he look again and vomit. Swallowing back the nausea threatening to spill forth from his stomach, he pushed himself up and onto his legs, the numb back leg included and attempted to hobble toward the dimly lit violet crystals near the throne.
The ghost of a laugh sounded somewhere just behind him, the cackle sounding like two voices in unison--one voice deep, the other deeper still. Fresh fear made him scramble onto three legs, his ruined front claw still tucked next to his ribs, and attempt to crawl away.
As the dragon struggled to get away from his attacker, the spectre materialized behind him in the shadow of a great marble pillar. Whatever the Shadow King had left behind when his body left the physical plane of existence, this phantom certainly was a far stretch from the image of a pony. The body, large and coated in a dusting of smokey shadows, shambled forward as only a being that had never truly walked only could.
Spike had just managed to spot the shadow creature in the darkness as he allowed himself a glance over one shoulder. Though he still towered over the creature, it was undoubtedly of a massive build and the twitching of the creatures shoulders and head built cold fear in the dragon's stomach. His good claw dug into the cement flooring, attempting to drag his body faster to the only light source in the throne room.
Speed was not on Spike's side that day despite his valiant efforts. He let out a cry of defiance as the creature managed to climb atop his back. He felts its strange, rubbery skin cling to his scales and choked on the black shadows wafting into his nostrils. Thinking quickly, the dragon decided he would kill the creature with his own body weight.
With a groan of exhaustion, the dragon heaved himself back into a crawling position, the creature in tow, and dropped himself hard onto his back, crushing the creature between himself and the floor. The shadow let out the squeal of an angry, dying animal and with a speed that scared Spike simply in the suddenness of it all, the creature wrapped it's imitation hooves about the dragon's neck. Immediately Spike felt his oxygen cut off, the horrendously strong grip sorely unexpected.
The two rolled about on the floor, interlocked in a deadly submission. Spike felt about for the thickest part of the appendage around his neck and ferociously began to sink his good claw into the rubbery flesh, ripping and tearing away the blackness for all he was worth, only for the black sludge leaking from the wounds to stick to itself and reform with a nauseating slurping sound.
The creature flailed in a fit of rage, squealing again. Spike felt the creature struggle with its grip about his throat before it leaned it's head down close to his.
"Oh no, don't tell me...." Spike thought, almost like he expected somepony to stop the fight at some point before it had gotten too serious. But no such luck befell him, and that point was sorely hammered in as he felt the being's teeth frantically gnash at the scales on his neck.
Now had Spike been thinking clearly at the time, he might have thought to jab at the face of his attacker with one shiny claw. But for the moment all he could think of was that the monster chewing on his neck was actually breaking the scales, a feat that he knew was impossible, yet the pain was undeniably real.
Had the limb wrapped about his throat not been cutting off the precious air he might have screamed as the teeth tore into the muscle of his neck, chewing like it was trying to bite out chunks to swallow. Spike rolled about, scuffing his hide on the jagged edges of the shattered statue, trying desperately to throw the creature off of his neck.
A vein somewhere in his head began to pulse violently, threatening to pop and spill its contents like a water balloon. A roaring hum sounded in the dragon's ears like an alarm with a single long note, drowning out the strange creature's squeals. With one last burst of energy, Spike managed to pull himself to all fours, ignoring the fact that his bad claw was supporting his weight directly on the wrist, and drag himself and the creature toward the shattered statue.
Picking up a jagged piece of the shattered statue with a shaking claw, Spike struck where he assumed an eye would have been. He felt the force of the blow vibrate his shoulder, but he did not hear the impact over the singing in his ears. The force of the impact shook the granite piece out of his hand, one side now caked in a sticky black sludge that was once the top half of the creatures head, and it clattered away from the dragon's reach.
With his last remaining bit of strength having been wasted on a fruitless strike, Spike's body began to fail him. One by one his muscles went limp and his eyesight shrouded over, at the mercy of the impossible strength of the creature choking him. One last time his lungs attempted to draw a breath and failed, the attempted draw ending in pain that was barely registered. From the strange, angry cries in his ear and the booming sound of his own heart, Spike could make out a voice speaking. One that he recognized as a voice that no longer had an owner.
Applejack was telling him she didn't need help.
And had his "Pinkie Pie" not returned to the fray, he might have been so inclined as to respond to the Apple farmer in the dark distance of the tunnel.
As fate would have it, the filly did not flee with Sweet Tart. A rather panicked mare now ran about in the maze of dark hallways behind the throne room, her voice echoing out after a filly that had long left her side. The filly in question was now racing forward back to the guardian, a determination beyond her short years alight behind her bright blues.
Spike wheezed hard, trying to make it clear that he wanted the filly to run away, back into the inky blackness where somewhere the exit lay. But she did not look away from the monster tearing into the dragon's neck, the dragon that was her responsibility.
It barely registered in the asphyxiated dragon's mind that the reason he could even see the determined expression on the filly's face was because of a torch she had clenched tightly between her teeth, the same torch that Sweet Tart had snatched when she carried the filly away from the shadows.
The creature on Spike's back pried it's teeth lose from the ragged meat and broken iron-hide of the dragon's neck and attempted to dislodge itself as the filly raced forward. As it's hoof unwrapped itself from Spike's neck, air returned to the dragon's lungs in painful but fulfilling gasps. The creature kicked at Spike's back, attempting to move the behemoth's weight that had crushed its other two legs. But move the dragon did not, as the world had yet to stop swirling and he had not drunken his fill of the oxygen the stale air of the throne room had to offer. His chest heaved like small explosions were going off under his scales and his good claw made a shaky venture up to his neck in an attempt the hold his mauled flesh closed.
The creature struggled like an insect fleeing from a bird as the filly finally drew in close, swinging the torch as she did so. The shadow screamed as the filly scorched it with the flame, kicking its free legs wildly at her face.
"Pinkie...." Spike began, his lungs protesting as he attempted to speak. "Get back."
For a second it seemed that the filly might have obliged, but any hesitance that might have revealed itself in her face was swept aside with shock as the shadow's good limbs knocked the torch from her mouth, the smooth floor carrying the rounded ancient wood far away.
It's camouflage now restored, the shadow calmly set both of its imitation hooves on Spike's back and pushed. Centimeters gave way to inches, and soon the shadow was free. The filly watched in horror as the dark, rubbery skin exhaled fresh black smoke as the creature stood upon two good legs and two crushed sleeves of bone.
If the mouth that hid the teeth Spike had fell victim to would have revealed itself, the filly might have known the nearly-headless creature was smiling at her. Despite a terrible limp plaguing its movements, the creature crept forward towards the pink filly.
The filly jumped out of the creature's reach and turned tail. Her torch was lying on its side near the gaping hallway leading out of the throne room, flames spilling every now and again from its mouth. Unfortunately the creature realized what she had been going for and with a squeal to set even the most stoic pony's teeth on edge it broke into a sprint, each lopsided step on the crushed legs producing a stomach churning melody of crackles and pops.
In a mere three seconds the filly was at death's door, the creature only a step away from the wild pink curls of her tail. Her eyes never broke away from her prize, even as she heard the roar behind her and the dragon's claw slap the shadow to the ground with a force to rival a motor vehicle crash. She barely managed to nick the handle of the torch with the tip of an outstretched hoof before she was swept from her feet.
The dragon roared as he swept his treasure into his good claw, snaking his body possessively over it. Saliva strings coating his teeth flew about as he roared in feral defiance at the blackness around them. The roar, in a proud display of raw power, erupted into a brilliant emerald flame. The sound was much like a thousand industrial furnaces cutting to life all at once, their heat concentrated in one massive, beautiful stream of magical flame.
The dragon flame coated the twitching shadow like a bright glove, with no sound escaping the inferno. Spike coated the ground about the corpse of the fallen monster with the trademark flames, where the darkness seemed to retreat. If Spike could have heard over the whistling roar of his ignited exhalation he might have heard the squeals of the shadows as the light from the flames tore their rubbery skins. They had been watching the dragon and the two mares since their first steps into the forgotten ruins. It was they who had carried out the orders whispered in the darkness, a voice from somewhere in the beyond where no ponies dared to look pulling the strings. The shadows Sombra had birthed were burning.
"Man come on, you're gonna kill us!!" A voice screamed in his ear. Spike blinked, his eyes attempting to adjust to the bright green inferno coating the floor and walls. He tasted the fire upon his tongue as it passed from his mouth, the taste having a rather distinct metallic taste. The flame gently tapered off, the last bit of magical flame escaping his nostrils and clearing his sinuses.
"Don't just stand there, come on!!" The mare shoved Spike hard with her head, her hooves slipping and sliding against the smooth floor. The motion jarred the claw he held against his ribcage, the pain from the crushed limb as well as the wet pulsing of the hole in his neck awakening him to his friend's commands.
"I'm--I'm alright." Spike answered, his voice unheard in the cacophony of crackles and pops as the flame ate away at ancient tapestries and discarded books. He held his smashed claw over the filly he cradled in the other and attempted to focus his vision on the Earth-Pony at his feet.
"You won't be if you don't get your tail in gear man! Ya burned the joint!"
"Are you alright?" Spike asked gently, holding the filly up to eye level. She smiled sadly and brushed a lock of her wild mane out of her eyes.
"I owe you one, you know?"
She held a hoof out to touch Spike's face, the hoof running small circles on the cheek.
"Put her on my back, I memorized the exit." Sweet- Tart said, offering her lower back for the filly to ride upon. Spike obliged and carefully lowered her by her belly onto the dark orange fur.
"This stupid necklace better be worth it man, I didn't just get slapped around back there for a some stupid costume jewelry, you know?" Sweet-Tart said as she began her ascent back into the dark halls, passing the lightning bolt pendant over her shoulder for Pinkie to hold. Spike remained silent, listening to the odd hisses in the flames behind him.
"Hey, you ok back there Spike? I can't have you keelin' over here." Sweet Tart asked, her brow deepening ever so slightly despite her best efforts to remain collected.
"I'm ok, just shook up is all." Spike winced as his broken digits jiggled with his steps, the same steps squeezing fresh blood down his neck and chest like juice from a sliced fruit.
The three of them made the rest of their way in a nervous silence, the throne room and it's dying inhabitants falling far behind, forever to remain the forgotten catacombs of the Crystal Empire.
Author's Note
I'm going to continue to update this story in a random order--
This story has become an experiment of mine. I wanted to see how well I could write characters, and how much I can get an audience to become attached to them by presenting random parts of the story at different times.
This is also kind of an excuse to see how well I can illustrate an emotionally charged chapter and keep a reader interested despite not fully understanding what's going on.
But don't worry, you will understand the story well as it comes full circle.
I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter!
If you like what you read, like, comment, and watch!
And if your REALLY liked what you read, you might perhaps like my other endeavors outside of FimFiction.
Check out my co-hosted Youtube channel for...
Music by me! -- https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLLrY4bUm616_mHLglIAhibSHZ5ngbH18L
Fanfictions Readings (Good and Bad.....but mostly bad cause they're funny) -- https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLLrY4bUm6169Hpl8UY8pvXfpLvuFGXLYV
Let's Plays (this particular one is the Resident Evil Remake) -- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QpuAznEIuXU
And of course, music by co-founder and music producer Edward the Selector (he sampled Fluttershy in this particular track)-- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=roP7aAucHCU
Yup. Self-promotion at it's finest huh?
Have a good day guys!
