WRITERS are LIARS

by B_25

Rating: teen
Tags: Horror, Main 6, Thriller, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Romance
Length: 2502

Spike turns to writing to avoid lying, but insomnia meshes fiction with reality. A mysterious caller knows of his darkest secret.

Spike turns to writing to avoid lying, but insomnia meshes fiction with reality. A mysterious caller knows of his darkest secret.

Published 2017-02-02 04:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2017-02-02 04:50:01 UTC

Prologue

~Ø~

PROLOGUE

When the phone rang I was in the attic, contemplating the events that comprised my life up to this point, while simultaneously debating about jumping out the sole window belonging to the loft. It would be perfect, because, at this height, the fall would easily break my neck. But the thing is: I’m not suicidal. I’m just willing to suffer any pain necessary to escape the wretched typewriter sitting before me with a valid medical reason.

I wanted to ignore the phone, not because my contemplation had revealed an interesting fact about my life that demanded to be explored, but because the voices in my head were already irritated enough with me leaving the sheet of paper blank for so long.

Finally, though, I had to give in. It could have been someone with news of how my last book was doing. I got up from my seat, climbed the ladder down into my once jointed bedroom, and picked up the receiver.

“I kno~ow your secret,” sung a feminine voice on the other end.

The voice itself was the verge of familiarity to being recognized for me. I knew most of the mares in Ponyville, due to my involvement in shenanigans of the Elements of Harmony, though my presence was always usually forgotten about.

So then, why would anyone prank call the library so late into the night on a drake they knew nothing about? “Excuse me? To whom did you wish to speak to?”

“To you, of course. We both know that you’ve running the library by yourself for quite some time now, isn’t that so?”

It wasn’t a mystery that Twilight made long, periodic trips to Canterlot to learn the ways of Alicornship, but the fact that this voice was sure she hadn’t come back yet gave me a reason to worry. “Twilight is currently on a visit to the Princess herself, Celestia. Is there some message you’d like me to pass on to her when she returns?”

“Not at all,” the unknown mare said. The phone faintly picked up her shifting in some sort of bed. “Besides, its your secret that I know – not her’s.”

“What secret are you even talking about?” I replied sarcastically, as my claw began to tremble. “That I have scales instead of fur, and a tail that likes to slither than wag?”

The voice on the other end gave a feminine chuckle. “It’s not a secret if everybody already knows that you’re a dragon, Spike.”

My heart jolted upon hearing my name leave her lips, like she purposely whispered it into the receiver to draw out its effect. My brain was quick to rationalize to my heart that they’re aren’t too many dragons serving Twilight with the name of Spike, allowing me to stifle my surprise and disallow the mare of getting her full amusement out of me.

“Oh, no no, my sweet and dearest dragon. Your secret is something that has now become deeply entrenched in your soul, and you use all of its power, plus a little wit, to prevent anyone from discovering it. To put it as simply as possible, Spikey…”

My ear pressed ever more into the receiver, not to have better clarity in hearing her answer, but to pick up any form of distinction in her voice that could assist in revealing this mare’s identity.

“You’re a liar.”

I – EVENTS as they TRANSPIRE

~I~

EVENTS as they TRANSPIRE

Is it possible, by just going with the flow of things, for a story to be perfectly expressed? That all the best possible events within the tale happened to the best of their capabilities, while the events themselves came at a natural pace and were logically assigned in the timeline?

Or does it take countless outlines to render the abstract story in the writer’s mind into a comprehensible state, where all possible events have been listed down on the paper, where all the boring situations are to be crossed out? Would the writer then go on to begin rearranging events, gauging on how to maximize suspense and conflict, by the placement of the said events?

I wonder, which out of the two options, allows for the real story within the writer’s heart to emerge?

Thoughts like these always struck when I began dusting the books of the library, golden rays of light starting to shine in through the many windows. I sighed in the stuffy air inside the chamber, eyes lost to the rising sun, as I felt the warmth of its rays on my scales.

“Looks like I finished earlier than usual.” I deposited the dust back into its vase, clapping my claws to rid them of any lingering dust. “Maybe I could go cook myself something to eat, and have a plate of cookies for any of the early risers.”

The archway that led to the hallway containing the kitchen had a layer of blackness to it, as the sun had not yet reached that side of the library, though it did expose the particles of dust still lingering in the air. I sighed again, not quite knowing why, as I looked to the door where the light shined in most.

“I don’t really have any reason to go outside today...like most days.” I took a step toward the door, trying to remember the last time I had opened it. “But just because I don’t have a good reason to go outside doesn’t mean I can’t. Yeah...maybe some fresh air will do me well.”

I went to the door, the prospect of leaving the treehouse refreshing to my soul, as I could simply be at peace one I took a step outside. The rings of the phone caught me by my ear once more, as I stopped in my approached, and looked over my shoulder at the receiver atop the checkout desk.

Who calls a library a few hours before opening on a Monday? I had already a feeling of who it was, which is why I approached the phone much slower than I should and picked up the receiver.

“You’ve reached the Golden Oaks Library, though we haven’t opened yet.”

The voice on the other end gave a sigh. “Since when has the library ever been opened so late?”

“Since you’ve left the keys in my capable claws.” My shoulders began to relax as a heavy breath escaped my chest. “The same claws that think opening the library before the sun has risen is a waste of everybody’s time.”

The Princess of Friendship allowed for a small chuckle to escape past her lips. Somehow, Celestia’s training had made her more mellow than tense. “Right. Anyway, how has the old library been doing since I’ve been away?”

“Besides the few dust bunnies that like to hide underneath the couch and a few missing books from time to time, she’s been doing great. Nothing’s really changed since the last time you left or the time before that.”

“Sorry.”

“Why?”

“...”

“Twilight?”

“Don’t worry about it, Spike.” She reverted back to her normal tone, quickly changing the topic afterward. “How about you, Spike? How have you been...what have you been up to?”

“Uh…” The nights spent toiling away the typewriter I had stashed in the attic washed over my mind, to the days spent cooking in the kitchen, then to the naps I had with my face pressed against the checkout counter. “I’ve been alright, I guess. Besides my attempts at keeping this place just how you remember it, and chasing after those who owe late fees, I’ve just been quietly spending my time in my room.”

There was silence once more after I had finished my sentence, where I debated if I should include any more details that could satisfy Twilight’s worries about me.

“Thank you, Spike.”

“For what?” I replied with a slight chuckle. “Letting me laze about the library while given the tiny duty of keeping it running? I’ve been doing that all my life, Twi, so honestly speaking, I think I got the better end of this bargain.”

From her silence, I judged she remained unconceived. “Well, maybe it would’ve been nice to get wings like you, but I’m not that worked up over it.”

My lame joke worked in its attempt to extract a laugh from her, which made me feel all the better upon hearing it, as my lips stretched into a smile.

“Trust me, Spike: wings aren’t all that they're cracked out to be.” Twilight released another chuckle, before beginning to move around in whatever room she was in. “So tell me, how have the girls been doing since I’ve been away?”

“The...the girls?”

“Yeah, our girls?”Twilight said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, prompting her to invent an idea that suggests I wasn’t as stupid as I had just sounded. “Wait a second, Spike. Are you having girls over in the library, or worse, in our bedroom without my consent?”

“What? No!” I took the receiver away from my ear, taking a moment to catch my breath and steady my heart, as I brought the phone back to my ear. “Look. I haven’t seen the girls in a while, as I don’t really have a reason to go to them. Heck, I don’t even see snips and snails all that too often anymore.”

I felt bad. I knew that when Twilight thought of her friends back at home, that she grouped me with the other Elements of Harmony. That isn’t to say I don’t love them, or that I wouldn’t risk my life for them. But when it comes down to these peaceful times, where there’s no trouble to unite us, I usually find myself alone in the library.

I don’t have anything against the girls and would love nothing more than for us to be friends, but we just don’t have all that much in common, and our personalities are quick to conflict. So it’s best I keep doing what I have to keep doing, and the girls do whatever it is they do.

Celestia knows they're good at it.

“That’s a shame to hear,” Twilight said with no real emotions, snapping me away from my thoughts. “But I guess there’s nothing that can be done about it.”

I got the urge to some reason to go and prove her wrong. To begin to argue that it’s because my lack of not trying hard enough, or my reluctance to go outside, is the reason that I’m not closer to the girls.

That I simply need to read more about the Wonderbolts to keep a conversation going with Rainbow Dash, or to care for a bunny or two so I could share that experience with Fluttershy. Maybe, if I began to cook more sweets, I could start to share recipes with Pinkie Pie.

If I started to work out again, then I could help out more on Sweet Apple Acres, and hold talks about work with Applejack. I actually withdrew a few books on fashion and design, just for the sole reason of helping Rarity out again.

And yet, I knew all of these arguments in my head to be false. I could learn and experience all that I’m capable of, so I could go and have a few great moments with the girls. But once those moments were done, there’d be nothing else to talk about.

It was simply fated that I couldn't be friends with the girls, and yet, I still wanted to argue otherwise with Twilight.

Why do I have this tendency, I wonder?

“I suppose so,” I finally answered Twilight, not sure if what I had said was the truth or just another lie. “But look, you called me just before I was about to go for a stroll. Maybe I’ll find Applejack setting up her stand early in the market, or stop by the bakery to buy a cupcake from Pinkie. I’m sure the girls have been missing you very much, and I’m sure the girls will be able to tell me what’s been going on for the past few months.”

I heard Twilight sigh again. When two beings live their entire lives together, they begin to recognize the subtle hints that comprise the other's being. It is because of this knowledge that my heart missed a beat upon hearing this sigh, as it was neither one of tiredness or sadness.

It was a sigh of disappointment.

“Thank you, Spike.” The Princess of Friend said to me, trying to gather the will to fix her tone back into its usual shape. “You always know when I begin to worry, and exactly what to make me smile again.”

My claw, with the receiver clutched inside of it, fell away from my ear, as the pain of failing the one who I loved most tore away any traces of confidence I still possessed.

“Why don’t you do yourself a favor and take the day off?” The faint voice of Twilight emitted from the top speaker of the receiver. It took me a moment to bring it back up to my ear. “You may not feel like it, but just simply cleaning and reading inside the same stuffy place can make you feel a little sluggish after a deterioration of time. So take a day off work, and enjoy yourself.”

“En-Enjoy myself?”

Finally, I heard the laugh the help eased some of my pain. “Yes Spike, enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think. You don’t want to get to my level of working too hard, as I’m just now getting rid of those dangerous habits.”

“R-Right.”

There was a pause in Twilight’s voice before she responded. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten to enjoy yourself?”

“No,” I said, knowing it was a lie. “I mean, kinda.”

I could hear Twilight exhale heavily over the phone, though it sounded like a happy one, if that makes any sense. “I would love to teach you the art of relaxation, but I can hear Celestia coming down the hallway. Don’t worry Spike, as long as you don’t try too hard, I’m sure you’ll figure out how.”

I smiled even though she couldn’t see it.

“And remember Spike, no matter how far or long we’re apart, my love will never fail to reach you. I love you, Spike.”

My smile grew even larger, as I didn’t care that no one else could see it.

“And I lov–”

Twilight had ranged off before I could even finish my sentence. I merely closed my eyes, held my breath, and put the receiver back on my base. No longer desiring to take a walk because of the chance of me bumping into someone, I instead retreated upstairs and into the attic.

Twilight had given me a day off so that I could enjoy myself. I didn’t quite know how to do that, so I did the next best thing.

I went to work on my next book.