CHAPTER II: THE PIRANHA CAT

Spike made the short trip up the cliffside in complete silence, welcoming the peace of mind it came with. The dragon had only been in the island for less than a day but it already felt like a lifetime, that the ponies that lived here seem to be a bit off their rockers didn’t help at all. Still, there was fresh air and the sound of the waves crashing against the cliff was soothing, helping calm his frayed nerves.

He could already spy the big mansion up ahead. The building had a strange contrast if you compared it to the rest of the town. It was taller than most of them at three stories high and it seemed to be large enough to fit, at least, a hundred people, maybe more. As with the gates, there were no visible guards.

The drake continued his trek, stopping only at a short distance from the entrance. There was a small sign, partially covered by moss and bushes, which caught his attention. Pushing the offending plants to the side, Spike read the following: BEWARE OF OPAL.

He scratched his head in confusion. Last time he had checked, opals were a kind of gemstone, and dragons ate gemstones. He couldn’t see how a gemstone, or a collection of them, could pose a threat to any intruders, let alone him.

Shrugging off the seemingly useless warning, he made for the door. Just as his claw was about to reach the knob, his ears picked up one of the most horrifying sounds he had ever heard: it was the most twisted and evil hiss imaginable. Spike tried to turn around, only to be met by a white ball of fur throwing a barrage of claw-strikes his way.

In later retellings of this story, Spike would say it was his quick pirate reflexes that saved him from certain doom. The truth was much more embarrassing, for he had let out a most unmanly shriek before stumbling down the front steps in a hurry, landing on his face but, thankfully, out of the demon’s reach.

Our hero spat out some dirt and looked up at his would-be assassin. On the front porch stood a cat, a big white cat with a purple bow and gigantic fangs, hissing madly and pulling at the leash holding it just inches away from the dragon.

“A cat, really?” Spike fumed. “I would have taken a dog, any kind of dog. Celestia, even a poodle would have been acceptable, but a guard cat?”

He considered throwing a rock at it. There were more than plenty to spare on the ground, but he ultimately decided against it. The last he wanted was to make it madder or worse, kill it. After all, he was a pirate, not a murderer.

Right now, his options were pretty limited, if he wanted to get into the governor’s house to steal the golden idol, then he’d have to find a way to get past Opal. Surveying his surroundings, Spike failed to find anything that could help him in his endeavor and thus, with a heavy heart, he returned to town.

The trip back wasn’t as soothing, the waves now sounded like they were mocking him. He had been given one simple task to carry out and already he had failed it. He didn’t even want to think what would happen with the other two.

Back in the city, he made sure to give the jailhouse a wide berth, trying to avoid any further encounters with the Sheriff ‘Prince’ Blueblood. This took him through some back alleys and he soon found himself back on the main street. He could spot the Ponies of Low Moral Fiber down the street, still playing with their bunny, as well as the weird one with the coat.

Unable to face them in his current state, he turned to go back into the alley only to find it was gone. In its place stood another building, an ominous green light coming from the drawn windows and from under the door.

He gave the front of the building a good look, not wanting to be surprised and/or mauled by another vicious animal. After a couple of minutes, and satisfied that there were no dangers, he approached the door. A small sign identified it as a store, namely “Home-made remedies for all of your magical maladies.” It certainly was a catchy name, if a tad long. His curiosity was further caught when he noticed an odd smell wafting from the store, Spike sniffed deeply... cheese? What sort of magical maladies could possibly be cured by cheese?

Spike brought his claw up, knocking twice. There was no answer. He tried again, this time a bit harder, but once again no one responded. He pounded on the door, slamming his fist against as hard as he could. All he got was a sore hand.

“Bah, it’s not like I wanted to go in anyway.” The drake made to leave but stopped on his feet when he heard a creak behind him. Turning back to the store, he saw that the door was now slightly open. Curiosity overtook him as he risked taking a peek inside.

The main room was seemingly devoid of life but, at the same time, filled with all kind of items. They ranged from shrunken heads to bone charms, passing through rugs, dusty clothes and a short stand packing several postcards, only half a bit each.

The rest was pushed open the rest of the way and Spike stepped inside.

“Hello, anyone home?”

Nothing.

Shrugging, the drake went further in, examining the strange and bizarre merchandise on display. He was specially focused on a barrel filled with life-sized dried hoof replicas (he hoped they were replicas) when a voice boomed behind him.

“What is this I see before me, is it a young whelp looking for help?”

Startled for the second time today, the dragon only managed to try and turn around, back stepping into the barrel and crashing down to the floor in a mess of dried hooves and his own tangled limbs.

Spike swore he could heard a very distinct laughter before the voice spoke again.

“Calm down, oh honoured guest, please put your mind at rest.”

He opened his eyes to see that he had not, in fact, been gobbled up. This calmed him for a couple of seconds, before he remembered he had been caught breaking and entering, most likely by the owner. He certainly had no intention of seeing Blueblood again, so he jumped back on his feet and bolted for the door.

Or he would have, had he not tripped again on the dried hooves and fallen back to the hard, wooden floor. Spike groaned, this was not his day. Thankfully, no one came to deliver him to the authorities. Instead, the voice called to him.

“Pick yourself up and enter my shop, your fall was unintended and soon your bruises will be mended."

Not wanting to tempt fate, the drake did as he was told, rubbing his aching joints and picking himself up. With a cautious step, he entered the back room. It took a while for his eyes to get used to the low illumination; the lights were dimmer here, with a creepy green tint which only added to the already weird ambience. Smoke billowed up from some unseen brazier (it was either that or the house was on fire), making him sputter and cough, quite a feat considering he was a dragon.

The decoration was sparse, but enough to make him question his presence. They consisted of skulls, lots and lots of skulls, creepy wooden masks and small dolls with dozens on pins stuck on them. Spike wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn they looked like they were in pain.

On the back sat a throne, wooden from what he could see, carved with images that made his eyes water and hurt. Pictures of strange creatures with no discernible form, a collection of eyes that stared back at him with evil intent, and tentacles and mouths with pointy, razor-sharp teeth, words in a language he had never seen or heard.

All in all, thought Spike, this was quite an unsettling place.

Just as he was finishing his examination, the voice spoke again, coming from the throne.

“Come closer, don't be shy, that is something that is best left to pegasi.”

The dragon looked back to the empty seat just to find it was now occupied. A quick look around confirmed that there were no other entrances besides the one he was currently using. Gulping, the drake stepped forward, as he had been told.

The figure before him was that of a zebra. Needless to say she had black and white stripes, plus a set of golden necklaces around her, well, neck. Her mane was styled in some sort of mohawk, nothing like the purple locks of Governor Rarity, or the pirates’ pony tails.

The striped equine observed him with marked interest but remained silent, as if daring Spike to speak up and ask just who she was. Our hero had no such intention. The silent stare-off lasted for several minutes before the dragon finally lost his nerve.

“So…” He muttered weakly. “Nice place you have here… I uh… love the décor, it’s very… ethnic?”

The zebra smiled, seemingly pleased with his compliment.

“Thank you for your kind words, Spike the Dragon, but I believe that is not what brings you here, unless perhaps I'm mistaken and you are an interior decorator.” The zebra paused her speech, as if in deep thought.

“Sure, no prob- Hey! Wait a minute, how do you know my name?”

“The spirits tell me many things, oh guest without wings, finding out your name was but a game to them.” The zebra nodded, somehow causing the intoxicating smoke to grow thicker. “Now tell me what brings you to my humble abode, is it perhaps your pirate code?”

Spike looked down, his shoulders dropping noticeably. “I’m not a pirate.”

“Is this sadness? Pray tell me, Spike the not pirate, what is it that has your soul in such deep darkness?”

The dragon coughed, these fumes were really getting to his lungs. “I…” He interrupted himself, exploding into a fit of coughs before regaining his breath. “Ever since I was a hatchling I’ve wanted to become a pirate, take part in adventures, steal unimaginable treasures and, you know, gain glory. Have people know me and talk about me… I… oh, it doesn’t matter, the pirate lords gave me three simple tasks to complete and all I’ve managed to do is piss off the sheriff, find out bunnies can dance and almost get killed by a house cat.”

“Ah, this I can understand, I’ve seen many troubled by their dreams, but why is that you want others to hold you in such high esteem?”

“I don’t know, I just thought it would be better than… this, guess I was wrong, I should just give up and go home.” The dragon turned to leave. “Thank you for your… whatever this was.”

“STOP RIGHT THERE, CRIMINAL SCUM!”

Spike immediately recognized the voice, it was clearly Blueblood’s. But what was he doing here, and how had he gotten in? The drake was shocked, had the unicorn been hiding inside all along, had the creepy zebra ratted him out?
Whatever the truth was, he didn’t have time to find out. He heard Blueblood move in for the kill before he could even turn around to see him. Only his reflexes allowed him to jump out of the way, a cutlass smashing into the floor right where he had been standing.

“WHAT THE HAY?” The dragon shouted as his eyes darted to the sides, trying to catch a glimpse of his ‘host’. However, the zebra was nowhere to be seen, having disappeared as magically as she had appeared.

Spike stood before the sheriff, the tall unicorn wielding the weapon in his magic aura and staring down at him with wicked eyes. “I thought I was clear when I said I didn’t want to see you again, coal-head.”

The drake had no time to respond before his opponent swung again barely managing to scramble out of the way, the blade cutting into his tail’s scales and leaving a deep, red gash. Spike winced in pain, out of the unicorn’s reach. The enemy had drawn first blood.

He quickly analyzed the situation. The room had no exits, save the door he had used to get in, and Blueblood was currently covering. He had no weapon to defend himself with while the sheriff had a nasty looking sword. Finally, he was small and his enemy was huge.

Clearly this could only end well.

“Come on, Blueblood, can’t we just talk this out or something? I haven’t done anything!” Spike pleaded with his assailant.

“That’s Sheriff Prince Blueblood to you, criminal scum, besides I don’t negotiate with terrorists!”

“W-wha-“ Spike had to dodge again, landing in a heap of dolls as Blueblood struck again, clearly intent on killing the wannabe pirate. He struggled to extricate himself from the mess before the sheriff could move in for the kill but only managed to dig himself further into the pile. Frantic, he resorted to throwing the dolls at the unicorn.

Needless to say they all bounced harmless of his coat. Blueblood laughed a deep, arrogant and annoying laugh that made Spike grind his teeth. Without knowing how or why, the small drake got off the doll pile and jumped at his enemy, landing on its back.

That shut Blueblood up. The unicorn yelled something about how the vermin had to get off his back and started bucking, trying to dislodge the dragon. Spike held fast, grabbing onto the unicorn’s flowing mane as hard as he could. He was in a good position, the sheriff couldn’t use his sword for fear of stabbing himself in the process.

“You better not be doing anything to my beautiful hair or I swear I’ll make shoes out of your hide!”

The distraction proved effective. Blueblood dropped his cutlass on the floor, trying to concentrate on getting Spike off him. Seizing the chance, Spike waited until the asshole was with all four hooves on the ground before jumping away and retrieving the fallen sword. His opponent could only watch in terror as the now armed dragon brandished his weapon.

“I’ve had it with you, Celestia damn it, I was willing to walk away and go back home but you had to barge in here and try to kill me, what have I ever done to you, can’t you just leave me the hay alone?!” The drake closed his eyes as he vented his frustration on the ‘Prince’.

When he opened them, however, both the sword and the unicorn were gone.

Spike blinked, that’s it, it was official, he was going insane. As if to add to his conclusion, the zebra spoke from behind him, having reappeared out of thin air.

“Didn’t you say you were going to surrender, Spike the not pirate? What was there to gain from standing against him, when you could just lay down your arms and meet your, no doubt, grim ending?”

Spike wanted to tell her you couldn’t die in Alexarts games, but decided not to be sarcastic for once. “I… I couldn’t let him see me defeated, not that jerk, not when I know I’m better than him.”

“So your pride would not allow you to fail when others are watching?”

“I guess?”

“What are you really doing this for, Spike, is it gems, is it them, or perhaps a femme?"

“No!” Spike exclaimed. “I’m doing this because I want to, because I want to be a pirate, the best pirate there ever was!” Just as he finished shouting clicked inside his mind. “Wait… you are right, I’m doing this for me, I don’t need the others to approve of what I do, I just need to try my best!”

“Sure, let’s go with that.” Agreed the zebra.

“Thank you, creepy zebra lady, and now if you’ll excuse me I have an idol to steal!” Spike was ready to dart off, but a hoof on his shoulder stopped him. He looked up to see the zebra smiling at him.

“Before you go, little dragon, know that cats are fond of fish, I’m sure there is something you can do with this.”

Spike smiled back, his brain already working to come up with a plan. If that ghost had taught him anything is that you didn’t need to be bigger to win, just smarter. Or breathe fire, either would do.

The zebra let go and the dragon made his way out, happiness clear by the spring in his step.

Author's Note

Frankly, I'm not too convinced about this chapter, it feels weak somehow.

Also, I hated writing Zecora (I can't rhyme to save my life) and that's what made me take all this time. Zecora single-handedly gave me writer's block.

Knowing I'll have to write her again only makes me madder.

She truly is worst pony/zebra/equine.

I promise the next few chapters will be better and longer, but fuckin' Zecora.

At least we have Trixie to look up to.