Undead Princess Twilight Sparkle: Monster Slayer

by Lord Destrustor

Rating: teen
Tags: Twilight Sparkle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Comedy, Slice of Life
Length: 5132

Twilight Sparkle's tragic (un)life as an undead, undying abomination of the magical sciences. Also, cool fight scenes and occasional silliness.

Twilight's life definitely took a strange turn when she died. Of course, this won't stop her from living it to the fullest, whatever that entails.
Equestria will never be the same.

After the first, chapters will alternate between serious ( - ) and silly ( ~ ), because I didn't want the story to be limited to just one. Most will be standalone, and in no kind of chronological order; expect little correlation between chapters and occasional verb tense changes from one to the next.

This story should be considered in perpetual hiatus, as it will rarely be the focus of my attention. Do not expect regular updates.

Rated teen just to be sure. Cover art made by this butt.

Published 2015-03-03 01:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-03-03 01:50:02 UTC

Yearning

It has been years.

I have not slept, eaten or bathed in all that time.

Nor do I need to.

I have read every book in my vast library.

At least six times each.

I wrote seven new books; two textbooks on magic and four works of fiction, plus an autobiography.

I have researched new spells, new magic theories, and brought forth a greater understanding of magic for all Equestrians.

Yet with all that, what I did to myself is still an infuriating mystery holding me back from knowing peace.

...I am incredibly bored.

Standing on the tallest peak of my castle, among the towering clouds of morning fog slowly scattering above the Everfree Forest, I nudge the mask at my hooves.

Two nights ago, a young colt got himself lost in the forest. From the depths of my castle I heard the screams, and the roars of the manticore who was about to eat him.

I did not let it. I intervened, saved the child, and gave the beast the flight of a lifetime. For the first time in my unlife, that made me realize just how lost to me such things as fear and pain are.

And that gave me an idea.

The mask at my hooves, a marvel of clockwork engineering and new materials, is made to look like a pony’s face. A lifelike, mobile, perfect replica of the flesh that used to cover my skull. A simple spell to bind it to my face lets me move it as if it was my very skin returned. I try to smile.

The mask’s lips curl upward. The smile becomes genuine.

Oh Spike, your craftsmanship becomes better with each passing month.

I pick the mask up in my magic, turning it around so I can insert the clamps into my eye sockets. With a click, it snaps into place, tightly latched onto my skull. I shake my head around a few times to test the fit; it doesn’t slip in the slightest.

Perfect.

My skeletal wings extend and I jump down to the nearest window; my study. The spacious room housing my desk, my telescope, and all manner of apparatuses I often use for my research now holds a new attraction.

The ponyquin stands silently, everything but its face covered; a large cloak with sleeves, a wig, a fake tail.

I put them all on, using my magic to tighten the hidden, internal straps to my bones. Hoof-like boots are stitched to the end of every sleeve, providing a snug fit for the bony ends of my legs.

I turn to face the tall, ornate mirror standing in the corner, an antique I fished out of the depths of the castle years ago.

I look alive again. I look like I used to, back when my heart still existed, back when my brain was as full of the magic of friendship as it was with knowledge. My old self, perhaps a bit over-dressed, but still. The mask’s lenses even hide the glow of my ‘eyes’.

I can’t help but smile again.

My horn glows, and my cape flares up in the magical gust I just summoned. Among the papers scattering around, swept up from my desk, I see the bright pink star of my cutie mark flapping above my head on the brown fabric.

I wonder if the mask can endure how much I’m smiling. It thankfully seems to hold up while I make my way towards the stairs.

As I walk back to the ground level of my castle, I keep smiling. I will be bored no more. It is high time I began using my condition to its fullest.

The stairs and stairs lead into the grand foyer, where I quickly enter the west hallway where, in turn, I take another stairway down.

The forge sits sleeping, unused, in the massive room it occupies. The great chimney above runs in the center of the castle’s main tower, keeping the rooms warm when the Everfree’s wild winters assault the walls. At least, when the flames burn bright enough; today the embers are only warm enough to cast light on the room’s sleeping occupant.

“Spike,” I say quietly, and he stirs.

A single eye cracks open sleepily, and he mumbles “Hi Twilight,” while rolling around to turn his back to me. I count the seconds patiently. One, two, three…

“Woah, Twilight!” He stands straight up, wide-eyed and mouth open. “You look great!”

I step closer to the light, letting him examine my disguise in the orange glow. “That mask is absolutely perfect, Spike. You did a very good job.”

“Thanks,” he says, rubbing the back of his head, “but Rarity’s the one who made it look like you, you know.”

“And I’m very thankful to both of you for your incredible work.”

I gently pull him into a hug that he returns eagerly. It does next to nothing for me; just a numb sensation sent into my mind by the magic animating me, but I know he enjoys it at least. And it’s nice to know he still cares.

“I should have let you move in here sooner. I missed you.”

The hug tightens in response. I rub his back. A few seconds pass in silence as I look at the wall over his head.

“You’re getting taller, Spike. I just noticed that. You’ll soon pass me, big boy. Seeing you grow into the tall, handsome dragon you’ll become is definitely one thing I’m thankful to still be here for.”

“I love you, Twilight.” He lets go, stepping back to look in my new glass eyes. I see his are glistening. “Do you really have to do this?”

“I don’t have to, no. But I want to. I’m getting too bored in here; I have to go out there and do something. Think of all the insanely dangerous things I could do instead of letting ponies risk their lives! Think of how useful it could be to have an un-killable, fearless pony who literally can’t feel pain to help out where needed!”

I grab an axe in my magic, taking it down from its place on a wall stand. “Think of the evil I can fight when there’s nothing anyone can do to hurt me.”

“But twilight, what if they can hurt you? What if they… you know, for good?”

“Spike, I’m already dead. I’m already supposed to be gone. If something out there does find a way to truly kill me… well, everything will be back in its rightful place.”

He takes a step forward. “Twilight! Don’t say things like that!”

“And why not, Spike? Did Celestia pass a law that says undead abominations can’t be against the idea of undead abominations while I wasn’t looking?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but slowly looks away with a frown.

“I’ve accepted my death, Spike. You should too. It makes no sense that I’d be here forever when I’m already gone.”

I make my way back to the door, and I open it just in time to almost miss hearing him mumble “You’re not an abomination.”

I pause, the door still grasped in my magic, watching his faint shadow quietly undulate on the wall next to me. He’s standing as still as me, waiting for a reaction on my part. I choose not to answer.

“Come on,” I say instead, “let’s get you back to Ponyville. I don’t want to leave you here alone without myself to scare the forest’s creatures away.”

With that, I begin climbing the stairs, the sound of his feet scurrying after me soon heard from below.

He catches up to me, and we exit the castle. I cast a ward on the door, locking it behind us.

As we walk back towards Ponyville, I’m already planning my next steps; it would be insultingly amateurish to pick up a new hobby without proper preparation after all.

Look out, forces of evil; Equestria’s dead princess has entered the scene at last.

-Reunion

I sat quietly, absent-mindedly tapping a hoof on the table. The room was big enough for six, with chairs strewn around the simple table. Some glasses waited around a pitcher of water, while I waited for the ponies for whom this water was intended.

It struck me, for a moment, that I would never need to drink water again. Yet another simple thing I had lost forever. Minutes passed in the gentle hum of the machine spewing cold air in a corner of the room.

I was snapped out of my contemplation by the sound of numerous hooves approaching. I straightened up, instinctively drawing a deep breath that served absolutely nothing. I knew who was coming, and I had rehearsed this reunion all day in my head. I had anticipated every permutation of what they would say, how I would answer, how they would reply, and so on. I was prepared for this conversation, for this meeting.

Yet when the door opened and he walked in, all of these plans left me, immediately jumping out of the nearest metaphorical window. The words flew away and all I could say was reduced to a babbling “I’m sorry.”

If I still possessed the ability to cry the room would have been flooded instantly. I looked at his bruised face, his left eye swollen shut, the terrible marks I had left on his skin, showing so easily through his white coat.

And his sincere, kindly smile, so accepting. So unbearably forgiving.

“H-hey, Twily,” he simply said, a touch of apprehension resonating in his voice. He was scared, but not for himself; his warm eye travelling over my form showed nothing but care and love. He was scared for me, for what his entering this room was doing to me.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry, I didn’t… I’m sorry Shining,” I pleaded almost incoherently, writhing in my seat as I struggled to refrain from leaping into his arms. My parents followed him, and my mother could only spare one glance at me before averting her eyes and retreating outside with a sob. “I’m sorry Mom,” I called out to her as my father followed her with soothing whispers. “I’m sorry Dad, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry…” I looked down at the table, unable to merely look at them anymore, my trembling hooves moving upwards to cradle my head as I kept mechanically repeating my apology like a mantra.

Suddenly I found myself enveloped in the warmth of his forelegs. I couldn’t help clamping my own around him, feeling the unfathomable heat of his skin warming mine. His muscles tensed for a second and he shivered once, twice, before he somehow managed to relax.

“Hey, it’s okay, shhhh. It’s okay Twilight, I’m fine; I’m not mad at you,” he said, and all I could answer was a single pitiful whimper staggering through dry, tearless sobs. My hooves shaking more than ever on his back while I clung to him in my turmoil.

The door, left ajar by my parents’ retreat, slowly yawned open once more to let Cadance walk through. She stopped in the doorway, keeping it open while she looked outside as if waiting for something. She was no doubt hoping my parents came back soon. She glanced at me and uttered a simple “hello, Twilight,” before averting her eyes and biting her lip.

I closed my eyes, letting my brother’s hug soothe my sorrow.

We stayed like that for a while, listening to the lonely heartbeat I would never echo, until the sound of chairs being moved brought me back to attention. After one last squeeze, I broke the hug and reluctantly pushed Shining away.

Seated in front of me, my parents were a mess. My mother’s face was streaked with tears, her eyes red and her breathing labored; while my father simply looked impossibly tired, with his unkempt mane loosely swept back.

I couldn’t possibly look at them. My eyes glued to the table, I muttered a few more choked apologies before shaking my head and giving up on speaking altogether.

“Twilight, we still love you.”

My father’s voice cut through me, causing me to curl up on myself with the weight of renewed guilt.

How? How could they still love me after what I did? How were they strong enough to stand this? How could they bear to see my corpse staring them in the face, in this cold room filled with the smell of my decay? How in the world could I ever still be loved?

I silently rocked back and forth for… some time. I couldn’t say how long exactly, with the room’s lack of a clock, and I was mildly preoccupied with other matters. Unfortunately, these matters were incredibly difficult to manage. My family was as silent as myself; no doubt struck mute by the unbearable unease permeating the atmosphere. I struggled for things to say, subjects of conversation to engage, but my rotting, dead, useless brain refused to help in any way.

“Twilight, please… talk to us.”

I glanced at my mother; her eyes meeting mine, and I had to look away. The glance had been long enough. Enough to see just how thoroughly she was devastated; the unbearable worry, the terrified confusion, and the sheer grief, each emotion twisting her face into something barely recognisable.

And, underneath the broken mask, deep within the trembling, crying eyes, the love she still had for me.

I put my hooves down on the table, seeking to brace myself as if it would help in any way. I stared at one of them for a moment, looking at the withered, wrinkled flesh while I searched for something with which I could grant my mother’s request.

“I…” I began, still searching for words. I then decided honesty couldn’t hurt, and simply admitted my inability. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Just… tell us about… what’s been going on with you, Twilight.”

I looked somewhere near Cadance’s head, nodding weakly at her suggestion. A fleeting memory of her snarling, terrified face, surrounded by thousands of flecks of blue and orange, flashed in my mind.

“Well,” I said, finding the words coming more easily now that I had an excuse to let my mind wander away from the four ponies in the room, even momentarily. “I’ve been tested on, inspected, scanned, prodded, poked, rubbed, cut, stitched, stretched and examined in every possible way and sense of the words for about a week straight now. I guess you could say I’ve been… busy.”

“And, uh, any news about your… uh, condition?” From the corner of my eyes I could see my father grasping his own hooves as he spoke, wringing them relentlessly.

“The doctors, and professors… and the coroners and morticians, and the practical and theoretical thaumaturges of Canterlot University, and the princesses… have been studying me for quite a while now, and…” I trailed off, thinking back to the few details that had been shared with me. “Well, the only two things they know for sure is that this is definitely some form of necromancy, and that I’m definitely the one who did it. Somehow.”

Shining spoke next, breaking the short, awkward silence I had unwillingly provoked. “So, does anyone have a clue on how-“

“Nopony has any inkling of a clue on how to go about finding a way to possibly fix this. Even the most basic components of my… enchantment are beyond anything anyone has ever even seen before. I… Imagine you’ve heard about the considerable time Princess Celestia spends in the royal library? She’s in the forbidden section, reading a whole lot of necromantic… ‘works.’ She hasn’t had much more success than the rest. I don’t know what in Tartarus I did, but I really, really did it.”

I shook my head, even then still trying to think of new avenues of study that would help figure out what I had done to myself. A few ideas slipped by, all immediately rejected on the simple basis that we’d tried them already. We had tried just about everything.

“And, uh… how about… physically? How are you?”

“Let’s see,” I said, tapping a hoof to my chin. “I don’t need to sleep, eat, or breathe; so my needs are incredibly easy to meet. I somehow lost almost all sensitivity to pain, while still retaining most of my senses of touch and proprioception; for some reason I’m only mostly numb to pain and nothing else.” I found myself on the verge of smiling, nearly overcome by the fascination that can only come to scholars speaking to an audience outside of their domain; ponies for whom every minute detail of the subject at hoof is still new and surprising. “They even drained out all the blood I had left,” I visibly prodded the wrinkled flesh of one of my legs to show them, “to slow down my decomposition. Someone also had the brilliant idea to lubricate my eyes and mouth with oil so I don’t have to spray water into them all the time, and I…”

The strained, uneasy looks on their faces eventually managed to tell me they might not have shared my excited fascination regarding my new and strange absence of metabolism. “I’m… going too far with the details, aren’t I? I’m sorry.” I rubbed the back of my neck, almost chuckling. “Well, anyway, they’re trying everything they can to preserve my body as much as possible, for as long as possible, in case…”

The silence lingered once more. Despite the newfound ease with which I had talked mere seconds earlier, I could see my family was still somewhat troubled. My apprehensions hadn’t changed the fact that they were the ponies who no doubt loved me the most in the world, and I had come to realize that nothing had really changed that. I had no reason to fear the mere act of speaking to them, although I could plainly see how hard this was for them. I felt a pang of guilt for that. This was all my fault; I should have been more careful, I should have been calmer. Just how horrible had I acted to make my own death the lesser of the many strains on own relationships?

Even at that moment, I had almost blundered once more; speaking words of probable false hope. I had still gone too far despite myself, as my mother’s next words showed they had all guessed what I had refrained from saying.

“In case they can fix this?” I silently cursed myself. Once again, my actions would hurt my loved ones. They hoped, and I regretted that. “Twilight, do you think there’s a way to… bring you… back?”

“I don’t know. Like I said, no one knows. Nopony even understands what’s going on.” I had to nip this hope in the bud. “What I am sure of, is that I… you shouldn’t expect me to return to actual life. I’m dead, Mom. I don’t think there's-"

“Stop saying you’re dead!” She had barely raised her voice above her usual tone, barely above my own; yet all eyes turned to Cadance. Her legs weren’t resting on the table; the hooves were planted on it, discreetly bracing as if she was about to rise. She stared into my eyes as she continued, her voice quieting back down. “Stop saying you’re gone, stop trying to tell us it’s already over! Stop giving up like that! You’re still here with us, and I don’t care what science has to say about it; you’re not truly dead as long as you’re still here!”

Shining tried to say her name, his placating tone nowhere near loud enough to cover my own voice. “I’m a walking, talking corpse, Cadance! How is that not dead?”

“You’re not just a body, Twilight! You still have your soul, your mind; you’re still with us. That’s what matters, Twilight! You’re not dead, because dead ponies can’t stand up to my face and argue about it!” Her voice cracked, and her face mellowed. “You’re still here, Twilight. There’s still hope. You did this, so I’m sure you’ll find a way to fix it too… as long as you don’t give up. Please don’t ever give up.”

I fell back in my chair, only then noticing I had even risen from it. I couldn’t seem to be able to look at anything else than the two little tears she had shed while she spoke. I wanted to scream at them, to yell my frustrations at these tears and the hope they had been born from…

But I knew it would do no good. Thinking back on it, I always did find it funny that I was too hopeless to fight against hope; the irony wasn’t lost on me even then. I was decidedly not in the mood to laugh at that moment, however.

I just felt… tired. I wanted to sleep; I wanted to escape the waking world again at least once, I wanted to slip back into whatever shroud dreams are made of, and forget my own existence for a few hours.

And never again would I.

“What am I going to do then? If I can’t be fixed, and if I never choose to let go… What do I do with myself?”

"Well," said my father, "I guess you'll have time to figure it out, right? ...We'll be there for you, honey."

"Yeah... thanks, Dad, everyone."

Yes, time. Perhaps too much.

~Tirekt

“It appears we are at an impasse,” the giant confidently purred, dusting dirt and debris from his broad shoulders.

The blasted landscape around us stood still, only the occasional rolling pebbles joining the disturbed wind in its melody. The edge of the Everfree had taken quite the beating once Tirek had decided to beeline towards my castle and myself after siphoning Ponyville’s magic.

My costume looked ready to fall apart, but the mask at least held strong; clearly one of Spike’s stronger works. Even Rarity’s contribution to my appearance was defying expectations.

“How about a trade, Princess Twilight?” he added, making my friends appear in floating bubbles behind him with a snap of his fingers. “Their release, for all the-“

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What?” the red beast asked, perplexed and infinitesimally more frustrated than a second before. “What are-“

“Of course I’m going to say yes, you big red dunce! Who do you take me for, someone who hates her friends?”

Said friends suddenly voiced a chorus of objections, none of which were powerful enough to be heard over Tirek’s violent shout of “DO NOT DARE INSULT ME, LITTLE PRINCESS!”

“Sheesh, fine. Are you going to release them or what?”

He snorted in annoyance but freed them nonetheless, unceremoniously dumping them on the ground. All except Discord.

“Ahem, when did I say he wasn’t a friend?”

“Oh? After he betrayed you, you still-“

“Excuse me? I didn’t know I was talking to a friendship expert, mister I-eat-everyone-because-my-ego-can’t-stand-the-thought-of-having-peers! Let. Him. Go. Too.”

His arm, still outstretched towards Discord, fell back to his side and curled into a fist. He also literally growled, but I expected that from a brute like him. He eventually snapped his fingers once more, dropping Discord to the ground.

“Once I have your magic,” he growled, covering the whispered conversation between Discord and Fluttershy I could see behind him. “I will personally torture you endlessly for your insolence.”

I rolled my glowing eyedots. “Yeah, whatever; blind trust in friendship and all that, yadda yadda let’s get on with it!”

I opened my mouth, presenting my empty maw to him and waiting for his… whatever he did to eat pony magic. His horns crackled with energy, and the orb of magic appeared between them. I felt a pull in my entire being, and suddenly my magic was being vortexed out of my mouth.

After just a few seconds I felt wobbly, and I noticed one of my hind legs suddenly falling apart. Wow, forget about friendship and saving the world; this was immediately of the utmost interest! I was coming undone! How fascinating!

My body kept scattering apart, the collapse drawing closer to my head until I felt even it falling to the ground once nothing remained to support it.

But I was still conscious somehow, my completely indeterminate “body” being pulled towards Tirek’s mouth along with my magic. This was… decidedly less exciting; whatever was to happen to me inside Tirek was almost guaranteed to be at least slightly less pleasant than being dead. I would have frowned if I still had a face.

In a flash, I found myself looking at the pile of bones and cloth that I inhabited minutes earlier. Strange.

Stranger still was the sudden cry of “Bleeugh, necromancy? Since when do you ponies employ necromancy? That was disgusting!” that I let out of my fleshy mouth and in Tirek’s voice.

“Wait a minute,” I said, still in Tirek’s voice, before clamping my hands over my mouth.

“What was that?” I asked between my fingers, immediately pulling them away to reply “That was me, Tirek. Apparently I’m your magic now.”

I paled. No, really. For the first time in ages I felt blood drain from my silly fleshy face. “You…” I said, suddenly terrified. “Me,” I replied smugly.

“You knew this would happen, didn’t you? It was all a trap!”

I broke into laughter. “You greatly overestimate my understanding of what’s going on with my existence, Tirek! Haha! I was honestly expecting some kind of friendship magic shenanigans to save me at the last second, but I was apparently wrong! So deliciously wrong! I can feel your entire power as if it was my own body! This is amazing!”

“No,” I whispered, horrified. “Yes!” I replied, shooting a small magic laser out from between my horns. “And I can even control it! That's just wonderful!”

“No no no no no!” I shouted, shaking my head. “Yes yes yes yes yes! I’m going to try something now!”

I heaved, pushing every bit of magic I could feel out of my mouth. Hm, vomiting. That was something I hadn’t felt in a while. The magic poured, forming a pile of ethereal goop at Tirek’s rapidly shrinking hooves; until I felt even myself leave his body. I joined up with the gooey pile of pure magic; and when I did I found I could immediately control it all again.

“This is working even better than I thought it would!” I yelled in my own voice this time, my ghostly, grandiose ventriloquism echoing to all corners of the valley. I could see everything around myself, all at once and at a level I had never even experienced. I could see atoms. Tirek was a black, empty shade devoid of magic; just like my friends behind him. He was still weakly screaming “nooooooooo” while I towered over his form in my globous, unformed body of pure magic.

I could see every thing, every being, every object and even every speck of magic for millions of miles around, in all directions. The tree of harmony drew my attention like a beacon. Behind the forest and the ground, I could see it, silently calling out to me with its bright magical glow. I brought a formless appendage to my formless chin, considering my options.

“That could work, I think.”

The long, serpentine tendril of magical energy I extended towards the tree reached it in seconds. I looked down, or rather I kept looking at everything everywhere while focusing a little bit more intently on the shriveled shadow whimpering at my base. Tirek pitifully thought ‘my magic… why…’, because I could somehow read thoughts at that point. He opened his mouth and began trying to suck up my magic, but I pulled it away from him and decided this was enough.

Focusing on the filament linking me to the tree of harmony, I zapped all my magic into it. Every ounce, every little particle of it, pouring it out until I couldn’t feel anything anymore. The leylines vanished from my sight again, my vision shrunk back to only three dimensions, and I found myself just floating in midair, devoid of any bit of energy that could let me do anything.

Maybe this was finally it; the end of the line for me, the last stop. Dying in a noble act of sacrifice did sound pretty swell. Maybe I’d get to see the afterlife soon.

But then the tree of harmony kinda exploded. Or at least that’s what it looked like when thousands of bright streaks of magic burst forth at incredible speeds, shooting out of the depths of the forest and speeding away in all directions. My friends stood in awe and stared at the blinding myriad of lasers outshining the sun; and then, one by one, some of the beams turned and began heading straight for them. The lasers were too fast, and each of them was struck in turn. From where I floated I could see their cutie marks reappearing, and I was happy to see the tree had done exactly what I hoped it would do. It had given back everyone’s magic! I turned to look at the forest and the last beams fading away behind the horizon…

Except one. One last beam, a spiral of black, pink and purple; one final, solitary laser, curving straight towards me.

“OH COME ON!” I would have shouted if I had been anything more than an invisible ghost at that point. The beam shot through my consciousness, colliding with my bone pile in a great flash.

I suddenly found myself looking at Applejack, her front hooves pinning Tirek’s face down in the dirt and her mouth agape at my sight.

That look of surprise! I looked down at my own hooves, only to find them as spookily skeletal as before. My body had reassembled, and I was standing on the tatters of my clothes. …Of course I wasn’t brought back to life, what did I expect?

“Twilight! We thought you were dead! Again! …Why d’you come back… uh, again?”

After I graciously collapsed to the ground, screaming ‘Why’ at the top of my nonexistent lungs- in a very dignified manner, mind you-, we all quickly took Tirek back to Tartarus and called it a day. Pinkie, on the way back to Ponyville, forlornly mentioned that she had just remembered that weird six-locked chest offered to us by the tree of harmony, and that we didn’t get to see what was inside even though she felt like we were supposed to somehow.

Oh well. If it really was important I imagine we would have opened it at some point.