Forgotten Verse

Judgment Call

I’m jarred awake by a sudden jolt. Lift my head up, see that I’m still sitting in the cage, which has come to a stop. Must’ve nodded off on the way down. Hardly surprising; haven’t had any rest since coming down here, and my last two scuffles had been pretty taxing. I get up, slide open the door and step out.

Appears to be another cavernous tunnel, cast in a watery-green hue from the rocks embedded in the walls. Straightforward; I can go for straightforward (I need some straightforward). Quick look over my surroundings out of caution, and hearing/seeing nothing, I head down the path.

Only manage a few steps before I stop again. There’s been a shift: a change in the air, the rocks, something. I can’t see anything, or smell anything besides earth. But it’s that encroaching feel of unease and paranoia right before something pops out. So cautiously I turn my head around… then get decked in the cheek by something fast and pink.

“Surprise!!”

I hit the cave floor tumbling, but spring myself back up, sword drawn ready to face my attacker. Even in the dismal lighting, they stand out clear as day. And immediately my stance falters as I go slackjaw.

“Pinkie??”

My brain might still be sputtering from the sucker punch, but I can’t perceive anything other than a glaring pink, poofy-maned, eyepatch-wearing menace, standing on her hindlegs and flashing a familiar smile of unabashed savagery.

“Nice to see you too, scalie britches,” the physical figment of my imagination says. “You thought I was gonna stay a lame-ass NPC? Think again, sucker!”

💚

Pinkie Pie is blocking the way!

The thing before me is supposed to be a very dead, very exploded pony. Better CHECK to be sure… Yep, that’s most definitely Pinkie Pie, looking as solid as on that gods-awful day, and just as raring to FIGHT. Her mane is especially lively.

“How is this possible? You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Then I suppose I'm a manifestation of that screwed-up head of yours. Orrrrr, I might've sucked up something from that Nyx bitch to make me whole again. All kinds of magical BS down here, so is my coming back such a shocker?”

“Yet the first thing you want to do after resurrecting is get into a fight??”

“Naturally! You know how after a very long nap you need to stretch and get all the kinks out? That’s exactly how I’m feeling right now, and I need my scaly punching bag to help freshen me up!”

She tosses up a hoof, and suddenly columns of cupcakes roll down either end of the cave. I spot the fuses embedded in the frosting when they’re mere feet from me and get hopping. Several explode, several keep rolling, and a few spring up to pop off in my face. I manage to toss myself back onto the craggy floor, hard. Back on my feet, the confectionaries are gone, but the Baker From The Crypt remains posturing.

Those blasts felt real enough. Dammit, I thought I left the nightmares behind, but the horrors still persist (and so must I).

Pinkie sizes you up.

“How exactly is that stretching?” I question.

“What, you honestly wanted me to go all-out? It’s been a few years, Spikey; I need a few turns to warm up. I figured your slow ass would appreciate that, but by all means. What’s your opener?”

“Nothing.”

“EEEENH!! Wrong answer!”

Pinkie reaches behind her and throws out striped party poppers that flash a few seconds before going off. I'm already twisting and dodging, because they're firing off daggers, nails, shards of glass and thumbtacks alongside the confetti. A dozen of them fly up and detonate at once, and the moment they pop I contort myself and freeze. Instinct paid off: I'm completely untouched, while the ground around me looks like an office space minefield.

The party's begun in Tartarus.

“I've got somewhere to be, Pinkie; I'm not in the mood to fight!”

“Well news flash, Quicks McGee: this is as much for your benefit as it is for mine. You're in the belly of this sucker, so you got to be prepared. And like hemoglobins am I gonna let years of hard work trip before the finish line if I have anything to say about it, so show me what you got!”

“Pinkie!!”

Instead of listening like any sane individual newly risen from the grave, she instead tosses out a miniature maypole to a spot next to me, replete with streamers of razor-sharp paper. One of them is wrapped around a hoof, which she yanks to send the pole spinning like a top that would've eviscerated me if I didn't get to ducking and weaving. Somehow it's able to suck up the crap from the floor, becoming a tetanus tornado (surprised I hadn't faced one of those till now).

I slash my sword to smack away any incoming nails and cleave the stupid whirligig the moment it gets in reach, ending the attack. I face Pinkie with sword brandished, which unfortunately gets her elated.

“Finally brought out the old slice-n-dicer to play, I see! And your dodging seems up to snuff. Now how about some offense?”

“I said I don't want to fight you! Are you seriously refusing to listen??”

“I could ask you the same, nutsack!”

It doesn't appear Pinkie Pie wants to talk.

There's some kind of dinging, then a wall of very thick chocolate eclairs burst out of the ground and surround me. They pulse and throb before spewing streams of hot filling at differing heights and intervals (oh what the frick!), then one tips over in my direction. I back away, then get to sidestepping and leaping as the others follow suit like dominoes in trying to crush me with lethal carb-loading. A dodge roll from the last one, and getting up I find the treats and their cream have evaporated away. Seriously, what the hell, Pinkie?

Smells like blood and frosting.

That smile of hers deflates a bit. “Okay, I get you're good at dodging. You can retaliate now.”

“What have I been saying?” Already getting exasperated here.

“Fine. Dodge this, then.”

I hear the shifting of rocks, and looking behind me I see some massive spiked wheel rolling down the cavern, with a rolled dessert at its center (a pinwheel, oh haha funny). I try slashing at the spokes, but they're made of indestructible peanut brittle (of course), so I beat a retreat in the other direction. But guess what: there's another one rolling in from the opposite direction on the ceiling!

Wait, why have one up there? A look back and ascertain that the other one only reaches halfway, so a short dash and I spring myself up over that spiny sucker. I've barely landed when I see another death wheel coming, so spin and run back, wait for the one above to pass, then spring back over. I repeat this another two times before I see more, then pause to catch my breath. Barely hear the smaller rolling sound before the cupcake bomb detonates behind me and sends me to the floor (frickin’ cheap shot…).

Things are heating up.

“I'm about done warming up,” she tells me as I'm getting back up. “Last chance to get a mostly easy hit in.”

“I don't—”

“And your chance is gone!”

She throws out dozens of decorated tubes all around the cave floor, which fire off mortars of various colors. The fireworks blow out chunks of the ceiling that I have to dodge, then of course dozens of tubes appear up there and fire rockets down on me.

Lots of explosions, rocks and noise later, I'm still standing in one piece (though a bit dusty). Good; just gotta keep on my toes.

The ground—

“Wait Wait stop it right there!”

Everything comes to a record scratching halt as I look at my tormentor.

“Did you seriously stay in place for all of that?” she straight asks me, sounding genuinely (angrily) baffled. “You could have run at me, taken a swipe, but instead you dance around like a lobotomized monkey. You’re not being coy here; I want to know what your deal is. Where's your fighting spirit, your drive? Why aren't you doing anything, dammit!”

“If you just for once listen to—”

“NO! You're clearly not taking this seriously, and it's pissing me off!!” She hoof-stomps the ground, making the whole cave rattle. “Did my punch turn you pacifist, or are you thinking MERCY is the way to go? Did you forget where you are; what kind of freaks live here? I doubt you talked your way to this point. Or maybe because you beat me the one time I’m not worth the effort? One loss and I’m beneath you, is that it, huh??”

No that’s not, gah! “Pinkie—”

“That’s the stupidest, most asinine begging-to-be-offed-like-a-bitch mindset you can have! This isn't some pamby rematch or revenge hit you can brush off: this is about survival. And it's high time I remind you how deep in the shit you really ARE!!”

The cave walls flare a menacing pink with a roar like a hell-borne chainsaw as Pinkie Pie… becomes ENRAGED (oh fuck me).

“Either prove you can nut up like a champ, or I'm putting you in the bucking ground, here and now! Either way, heeeeeeeeere's Pinkie!”

It's a Bad Time now, bucko!

Pinkie launches up and dive bombs for me! I leap away from the hoof slam of the Gods, then duck as she rockets a flying kick to where my head would have been. She pinballs around the cave with kicks and hoof slams, raising the speed and testing my reactivity before she back somersaults to her starting point.

“Let’s cut to the chase!”

She holds up a hoof loaded with gleaming knives before flinging them at me. I sidestep, then see Pinkie swap to the other end of the cave before sidestepping the next batch. She pops to the other end to toss knives up at the ceiling, which spread and ricochet downward at me. My sword knocks these aside and I twirl to avoid the ones coming from behind, because of course Pinkie fwooped back over there.

She executes a slide that I jump over, while also throwing up knives I barely wiggle around. Back on her hindlegs, Pinkie snaps a hoof, there's a shift in the air, and I roll forward to dodge the wall of knives that shoot from behind me (whether she placed them or conjured them into being are both valid explanations).

Cutting it real close there.

“Here's a fan favorite, and their extended family!”

Something wheels in from the shadows and… no. It, it cannot be. That robin egg blue, the daisy decals. But there's no way; impossible. I Killed YOU!!

Yet the Party CannonTM mocks both me and reality by existing before my very eyes, and amplifies the horror by firing. Not confetti and streamers, but a godsdamned ENERGY BEAM!

I hop up to avoid getting vaporized, then spot a second cannon roll in from behind and leap over its shot (she's right: they're breeding!!). Another two sprout in succession from the ceiling, then two others pop up in the upper corners, the lower corners, ladder up along either side of me, and then make criss-cross formations before leveling the ground with one aerial burst. Though it got a little tight and frantic, I managed to not get singed (thank gods they’re well-telegraphed).

Pinkie is looking pretty DETERMINED… to kick your ass!

“Let’s see you move around when the floor’s like this!”

At that challenge, Pinkie swipes the air to conjure a wave of colorful party hats along the floor. Knowing the deal, I leap up high, and I’m only allowed a second to determine how I’m gonna land without getting pricked before my feet touch something thin yet solid. Huh, random floating platform. Very convenient/considerate.

“Batter up!”

What’s not convenient/considerate is Pinkie Pie swooping in on a rope tied to her waist with a bat raised and primed for some block-knocking. I sidestep and nearly fall off to avoid her swing, then spot a different platform moving by in the opposite direction. I hop onto that before Pinkie comes back around, but somehow she comes back even faster, so I gotta en garde.

I deflect the bat with my sword, the impact causing Pinkie to twirl wildly but only to swing back as a whirlwind of pain. I keep deflecting this resilient-as-hell wooden bat as my tormentor refuses to relent, until finally I duck and let her by. Of course that's when she snaps the rope and plunges down on me, so another desperate roll, this time onto spiky party hats!

Except the hats are gone, leaving me safe from the explosive slam taking place behind me. Pinkie has already hopped back to her starting spot by the time I've upright (for the umpteenth time).

Playing defensive can only last so long…

“Come on, get your ACT together and FIGHT back!” she demands. “That flailing of yours barely counts!”

Actually, why aren't I fighting back? I've done it plenty so far, and it's clearly the quickest way to end this bull. It'll be easy, just like last… No, I'm not playing this game of hers. Just gotta wait for her to fizzle out. She can't have that much energy for a corpse or whatever.

“No comebacks? Suits me!”

Pinkie winds back and tosses a bundle into the center of our fighting ring and it… bursts into confetti? Just a big, shiny, expanding cloud of silver and gold glitter, not even corrosive. Two more packets are tossed around, filling the air with more shimmery crap. Good: it will make hiding, uh, dodging easier. Or this is probably supposed to blind me. Wait, I'm smelling… gunpowder? Oh crap oh crap OH CRAP!!

I turn heel and make it a few steps before that psycho clicks a spark off. For a full second the space is a roaring inferno, then jarringly it goes right back to normal. Miraculously I managed to dive into the one corner of the cave not covered in explosive glitter (how long is this luck gonna last??).

How long, indeed.

“Quit napping: it's only gonna get worse!”

Pinkie leaps into action once more with something primed in her hooves, and it's far bigger and crustier than a glitter bomb. In a blink she tosses the pie with supersonic force, barely missing me as it detonates into fiery shrapnel on the opposite wall. She blinks to somewhere else and fires another bunker-breaker pie, then another and another followed by a whole bakery battery barrage. I'm stepping/dipping like so many other times these past few minutes (ad nauseum), and I'm on the verge of getting dizzy when I notice the pink blur overhead.

I stand on my tippies and thrust out to avoid getting driven into the earth like a rail spike, then get knocked forward as Pinkie rips a hole out of the ground to retrieve her hoof. Again I'm on the floor, eating dirt. Falling over and over. That's how it should be; that's what—

I see the way forward is clear. A straight shot. Maybe, I can end it like that. Except…

You feel your sins crawling on your—

No, it’s not like that. I’m not trying to run; I’m not denying what I’ve done. It's just… I can't deal with it her (my) way. I mustn't.

Besides, I know for a fact that Pinkie will not let me RUN.

“You keep groveling! Pick yourself up and stay up like a man! I told you it's gonna get worse, and now I'm gonna go into Maximum Overdrive. Ready or not, here it bucking COMES!!!!!”

Pinkie flexes with the might of a volcano before bursting forward with a haymaker that would have shorn my arm off if it had been higher. Almost immediately she turns and launches into a flying kick that would have decapitated me if I had jumped. Rebounding off the wall she zips up over to the ceiling, grips it hard and strains Whoa Ah Crap What The Hell AAAAAAAAHH!!!

The entire cave is whirling like a hamster wheel and I’m being bounced around like laundry. Through the spinning I can make out Pinkie above (???) me, dancing upright outside the frame (?!?), throwing down knives and muffins and party crackers while I bounce up down and all around. I’m flying through this junk with seemingly no control, and honestly I’m surprised I haven’t blacked out from hitting the walls so much.

There’s a screech and I’m instantly flung clear down the length of the cavern, colliding and bouncing off the far back wall into a pit. After ping-ponging from wall to wall I plummet straight down a loooooong shaft, and who should be following close above but that persistent bitch and, of course, that damn cannon(s) of hers. I will myself side to side to avoid columns of energy as they blast down in an array of patterns, then abruptly I land smack inside a waiting cannon below and get fired into another subterranean corridor (or is it the same cave???).

Pinkie follows below astride her own rocket cannon, whipping out eclairs the length of baguettes that get hurled ahead. They go offscreen (w-what?) and molten marzipan erupts from their impact sites, meaning more things to barely dodge. Pinkie shoots ahead, and I catch her leaping up before something cracks against my ribcage.

I fly back, hit the wall and then feel another cracking blow to my back. Into the opposite wall I go, and I'm able to see Pinkie with the bat below more just before I'm knocked into the ceiling. It's a seemingly endless cycle of hitting walls, getting whacked, rebounding, again and again and again in all directions, then without warning I'm permitted to fall to the floor in peace.

Dizziness begins to set in, but I'm denied that mercy as the raging pink fury charges and hoists me upright. Her steely grip on my shirt sobers me up, and that singular piercing gaze shuts down whatever amusement there might have been.

Nothing but arresting stillness.

“Still you do nothing.”

Spat like a snarl.

Her hooves slam me down onto the dirt and I bounce. I don't even cough.

“No parries, no ripostes, no sidewinders or sucker punches, not even one stinky whiff of your fire magic malarkey! Never in any of our sparring sessions did you play pussy for this long. Not even those times your weak-ass caught the flu!”

Because it was the only way I could go back to bed, you maniac, is what I think as I get my elbows under me.

“I was dead only a few minutes ago, but you're the one looking fit for a dirt nap,” she keeps haranguing me (just shut up and end me). “‘Fighting’ you has become downright embarrassing, so I've decided to get answers instead. What's your malfunction? You got enough life in you to at least say.”

“I, have told you, over and over…” I huff out. Trembling. Not from fatigue. Just can't… “I, did not, come down here, to fig—”

“Stuff it: there's more than that. You didn't want to fight me the last time, but you still did it anyway (No, don't). You understood I was an obstacle (No) that needed to be dealt with (Just stop!), and did what you had to do. And the situation here is no different (Please!). Yet you’re holding back. Like you're honestly looking to die. And really, that's no fun at all.”

I feel her come up to inches before me, crouching. That eye boring into my lowered head. My soul.

“No more bullshitting: what's got you hung up? Why won’t you just do a repeat of last time and get this over with?”

“Because last time was a mistake!” Slam my fists into the dirt. “All of it was a mistake! It never should have happened!”

“The fudge are you blubbering about?”

“Those ponies at the castle, Luna… you. None of them had to die.” Shuddering, sniffing. “It didn't have to turn out that way.” So weak. But finally out there.

“Are you seriously having regrets over all that now? Tch, amazing. I mean, holy guacamole, it's been years, Spike. And at least in my case, it was deserved. I was cool with getting offed.”

“I could've run away, knocked you out like I did with AJ (excuses excuses). I, I gave in to anger and frustration, took the lethal route. The simplest. It… was just so easy. Letting myself slip like that. The same with all the others.”

“Heat of the moment, kid. You stick with the most reliable method and save the considerations for later.”

Your reasoning is wasted here, you psychopath. “...I thought I accepted it. That it was truly said and done. Nothing could undo what I did to you, or anyone else, so just move on, right? And like you said, the way you messed with me, it was justified.”

“Uh-huh. Buuuut..?”

Deep, halting breath. “You, annoyed, the living hell out of me. Almost every day since you became my ‘mentor’. Still, I never wanted to kill you. Never wanted you to actually die. But, in that moment, when you were dancing on my chest… I let it slip.” No, oh gods, my chest. Too heavy. “What if I slip again? I thought it was the conditioning that made it so easy for me to kill, over and over again. That shut down my revulsion, kept me numb. But, when fighting the griffons, Gladius…”

“What the hell are you getting at?”

The crux. The fucking crux.

“...It came back so readily. That focus, the disassociation. It felt… fun.” More shaking. “I’m afraid it’ll happen again. Not because of some magical haywire or mind fucks, but because that’s what my true nature is. Only some small trigger to bring out the killer. To harm those around me. Just waiting, waiting…”

I can barely hold my head up. The shivering’s constant. My body surrendering. Becoming another forlorn lump in this damned place. A fucking husk. How was I able to lie to myself for so long? Fooling everyone, making them trust me. But now, it won't go any further…

“Jeez, she messed your head up reeeeeal good.”

That blunt tone still keeps me aware, keeps the dark from closing in (damn her).

“Instead of gracefully accepting she'd been outplayed, she plants a stinker in your brain as a parting gift. Talk about a sore loser.” Feeling her sickeningly sweet breath on my frill. “You’re really letting the dream-raper kneecap your conviction? Some dusty living nightmare, among a whole bushel of literal monsters that have done—I betchu—far worse things than you or even I.”

“I’m so tired…”

“What?”

“Tired of justifying the violence. Of the death and suffering I caused. Too much has already been done; I never wanted it to happen again. And I can’t stop it from happening if I keep frickin’ doing it.”

“Holy cannoli you’ve really softened over the years!” Sense her backing away in disgust (good). “Luckily Auntie Pie is here to get this nipped before it blossoms into something really bad.”

Comes back over to me. But the stance, her tone…

“Spike, I already said I hold nothing against you for what you did to me. And the ponies close to you aren't holding anything against you, either. Sure, there's hundreds out there who will never forgive you, will always hate your guts. And nothing you do, no amount of sniveling and regret and shame is gonna change that. So screw them. You've been doing a good enough job of that up to now.

“And you know, I didn't start out the amazing baker and party planner you had first met. I made plenty of mistakes, felt ashamed, wished I could have a do-over. But I didn't dwell on it. I took each failure as a lesson and kept going, kept getting better. Knowing how to avoid the mistakes, if possible. That's exactly what you need to be doing. Keep going, keep doing better. I mean, you eventually managed to surpass me.”

A sickening recall. “That's not what you were saying before.” Feebly clutch the dirt. “You kept insisting I was a killing machine, a ball of rage waiting to explode. That no matter what good I did, I can never erase all the evil I've committed.”

“That croney-baloney went and twisted what I was saying. Well… not completely. Okay yeah, I like saying shit that gets under your scales as a motivating tool (and it being funny). But what I was trying to say is to not pretend all that killing and wrecking didn't happen. That's how you end up forgetting and repeating mistakes. Even if it's a tiny wiggle in the back of your skull, you gotta own that burden. That's how you stay tough for the rough times, such as now. You can't let these freaks, or anyone, take that away from you. Otherwise, who's going to defend the ones who can't toughen up?”

Still not enough. “I thought I had it completely controlled only a few weeks ago. What if the next time I'm wrong… it's bucked beyond repair?”

A sigh. “Now you're dwelling on the ‘what if’. The thanks I get for trying to perk you up.” Rescinding hoof falls. “You're better saving that for the precious ones that are waiting for you, who are there to listen. And there are ‘professionals’ better suited for all that head talk. I'm no shrink: just an old biddy who lives in the moment. And that's my last bit of advice to you, kid: focus on the now. Like getting out of this cesspit. It's no place for getting in touch with your feelings.”

The hooves grow more distant. “Besides, you have no business dealing with ghosts. Frankly you suck at it. You best hurry back to the land of the living. Where you belong.”

A rush of air, a drop in temperature, stillness.

Finish what you started, Spikey. Then you can do what needs to be done about that conscience of yours…

I keep my head down a few moments longer, then raise it. No trace of Pinkie, of course. And not just that: the rocks are back to glowing teal. A glance back, I see the lift only a few yards away.

This could have all been a hallucination. I probably just collapsed; probably more fatigued than I thought. Very likely. But I'm wide awake now.

I get back on my feet, brush myself off. Another look around, some blinks, and it's back to walking. Hear the soft drip of distant stalactites; decide to follow that. Easy pace, but alert. This is no place to be caught napping.

Not while a mastermind’s scheming.

Some later time…

(Though not by much)

A truly fine, beautiful, life-affirming day. Practically picture postcard perfect, with clear blue skies, radiant sunshine, pastoral landscapes, and the quaint ever-humble hamlet of Ponyville as the centerpiece. You would never suspect or even imagine that the literal shadow of annihilation could befall such a darling town, but it did. Only three days ago, in fact! Yet still it stands, as lovely as ever… barring some clean-up. Doomsday is rarely a tidy affair, after all.

But it's a most picturesque, spotless sight that greets the individual climbing the hill on the outskirts of town. She stops upon the very crest, letting her gleaming pair of baby blues take in the full splendor of it all.

“All these years, and it hasn't changed one bit.”

With a grin sharp enough to etch steel, she resumes a casual yet eager trot downwards, poofy mane and tail bobbing to her internal rhythm.

“Let’s see what passes for a welcoming committee these days.”

Author's Note

So, here we have it: the first DLC chapter for Dragon's Descent. Only took... seven years. Heh, insane. Makes me wonder how many people have come back to reread this over that period. New readers trickle in and add it as a Favorite, sure. But who considers this one of their all-time favorite works of derivative fiction?

...Anyway, this is an encounter serving as an interlude between Act 2 Verses 5 and 6, and something of a cheeky continuation of the epilogue. I had written up the beginning and opener of the fight, but then I lost interest and it just sat there in my backlogs, seemingly never to be completed. This had been the case with the extra chapters of Death by Dragon (god I've forgotten so much), only here the hiatus was almost Berserk-level. So why bother finishing up and posting extra material after such a long time?

Well, as I said in a musical I published on FanFiction.net some months back, it's because I'm the only one who can tell it. I alone can bring this specific chapter into being. Plus, it's something productive to do. I've been struggling to focus on writing original stories the past few months. Yet, going back over that unfinished fragment, and filling it in... it came easy. It was familiar, soothing. Just the thing for my mental state. It won't have nearly as much punch as how I had once envisioned back almost a decade ago, and is rather sloppy, but at least it's out there. At least it's available. At least it's real.

For those of you who cared to read this far, I hope you enjoyed it. There are other bonus chapters in the works, and just maybe, hopefully, they will be coming relatively soon. Hope you're doing alright, wherever in life you are, and all the best.