Spike felt her breath, warm on his face. A blush crept up on him as he found himself at a loss for words. Here he was, face to face with a pretty pink mare. That alone would cause him to go red in the face, but she had also just told him that someone “liked” him. Something told him he didn’t like where this was going.
Biting his lower lip in a show of apprehension Spike decided it would be best to just out and ask, “And... who is it?” he ventured. Pinkie took in a deep breath, this was the moment. It was all or nothing now.
“I like you, Spikey.” she answered, confirming his fears. A question gnawed at her and his silence on the matter was making a pit grow in her stomach. “Do... do you like me?” she asked, fixing him with a look that broke his heart. He wanted to say something, but couldn’t find it in him to do so. He wanted to do something, why couldn’t he do something?!
“I... no.” it sounded like the voice came from him, but he didn’t mean to say anything. It just sort of happened. But he didn’t stop there, no matter how hard he tried to shut himself up. “I’ll always love Rarity, no matter what.” if he thought her look broke his heart before now it was just worse. She looked on the verge of tears! Her coat seemed to become dull before his eyes, and her mane began to lose it’s body, sagging around her face like a deflated balloon.
“You... don’t like me?” she choked out.
How could he say no? Just like that, after spilling out her feelings like that! Oh, this was so embarrassing. Spike pushed out of her embrace as gently as possible and stood before her. She looked up at him from the floor with her eyes so sad. Spike might as well have kicked a puppy given how he was feeling right now. What he said had been true, though. No matter what, Rarity would always be his only love.
This was too much for him. He had just told her everything that had transpired between him and Rarity and now she pressed this on him? He needed time to think, some time alone. Without another word the dragon began to leave the bakery. Each step felt like they took longer than they should have, every footfall heavier than the last. He could almost feel her sorrowful gaze on his back, he felt a shiver run down his spine as the bell chimed to signal his departure. Leaving the dejected mare alone.
Pinkie watched him leave, watched him walk until she couldn’t see him anymore. The door closed behind him, shutting her in the room. It’s florescent lights buzzed, giving the only sound. It might as well have been silence to her.
Dejected, she brought herself up. The floor was cold and unwelcoming, especially now that she was alone. Pinkie longed for the comfort of her blanket and sheets just upstairs. Solitude, while not something she really desired, seemed to be what she would be getting. Her body moved itself almost robotically. She took stiff steps toward the back of the room until she came to the foot of the staircase. Her legs wobbled as she slowly, weakly, began to ascend. The wood creaked under each fall of her hooves, each whine echoed through the dead space but was unheard by the mare.
Once on the second floor, she began her journey down the short hallway. Each door lining the walls was closed and secured, save one: her room. The door was cracked open only slightly, just enough that she could see inside. Making her way to her sanctuary she bumped the door open with a light touch.
The room was so bright and cheerfully decorated. Pink walls, pink bed, pink everything. What once made her feel happy now made her ill. Pink was such an ugly color. She longed for white, plain and pristine. Blank like paper and beautiful like Rarity.
Gummy slept soundly at the foot of the disgustingly colored bed, curled into a little ball. He snored lightly every few seconds, his little chest rising and falling with each breath. Pinkie watched him sleep for only a few moments before making her way to the mattress and sliding under the covers.
How can he still love Rarity and not us?
After one final glance at the undisturbed Gummy she closed her eyes and waited for the sweet solace of unconsciousness to take her.
The room reeked of something Spike couldn’t place, and the red smears on the floor and walls did nothing to ease his worried mind. It was dimly lit by a single flickering light overhead, a small lamp that swung ever so slightly back and forth. Ropes bit into his scales with every movement he made. It didn’t hurt, but he somehow knew struggle would be pointless. The chair he was tied to was sturdy and the knots tied so tightly he doubted he would be able to wiggle himself out.
The dark figure across the room stalked just in the shadows. Obviously a pony, and by her build Spike guessed it was a mare. Pacing back and forth by a table she kept turning to look at him. He could almost make out her eyes in the dark just outside of the lamp’s reach.
Almost as if in slow motion the mare stepped into the dim light revealing her pink coat and mane. Dull and straight as a razor, her mane swayed with each miniscule step toward the dragon.
He looked so scared that Pinkie Pie just wanted to hug him.
A grin spread across her face, wide and unnerving. She looked him over, up and down his body her gaze trailed until coming to a halt as it met his own. His eyes were wide, fearful, tearing and green as a rolling summer field. He was so innocent that she couldn’t help but let out a little giggle, which made a shiver travel down Spike’s back. Taking a much bigger step toward him, she was so close now. So close she could touch him. Pinkie couldn’t contain herself, nuzzling the side of his head with her own.
Her mad grin shrank down to a soft smile as she spoke, “I love you, Spikey.” she cooed, lifting a hoof and pressing it against his chest lightly. “Do you love me?” she vaguely recalled this question, though it sounded different. Here there was no fear, this time it was so sugary sweet that it sounded outlandish to her. Almost as if she was playing with him like she would her dinner. A sick game that would continue until she grew bored of her food and simply ate it.
Pinkie waited only moments for him to answer. When no answer came a low groan escaped her lips. She pushed hard with the hoof against his torso and toppled the chair backwards onto the floor. All Spike could do was squeeze his eyes shut, yelp in surprise and brace for the impact with the ground. The concrete smacked the back of his head, dazing him. His head swam while he tried to keep from sobbing, through his blurred vision he could see only Pinkie, though she was merely a pink splotch against a gray and red background.
A weight slammed into his body, sitting atop his midsection. As his vision returned to normal he saw the pink mare look down at him with a knife in her sneering mouth. Fear gripped him, fear like never before. She was going to kill him! Flicking the knife around with a quick, short jerk of her head, holding it between clenched teeth a sickening and delighted grin spread across her face.
Spike shut his eyes tightly, scrunching up his face. He didn’t want to see this happen, he didn’t want this to happen at all. But it was and he was going to die here.
As the blade touched his neck...
Pinkie Pie awoke with a start, her eyes open so wide they actually hurt. Her fur was matted and slick with cold sweat, her whole body shook violently, chest heaving as she took in gulps of air like she had been deprived of it. Looking around the room she found herself back in her bed. After such a horrible nightmare even the pink sheets, all askew and messed up, was a welcome sight. Though it was still dark and through the glass monsters were cast. They seemed to dance around her, raking at the foot of her bed.
A cold wind blew through the open window. When had she opened that? The moon, placed in the sky behind the tree outside, gave off enough light to create the shadows of branches that moved in the wind. Giving the illusion of something much more sinister. Pinkie couldn’t help but shiver from the chill combined with the unpleasant sight, as well as a lingering memory of the nightmare.
Gummy stretched his legs outward and craned his neck, making only a slight sound somewhere in his throat as he did so. It seems the movement his owner had made had awoken him. He looked at her strangely, though that was nothing new. Gummy was always strange. She couldn’t help but let a smile cross her face. The little gator always cheered her up, even if he wasn’t really trying.
“Good morning, Gummy.” She chirped, wiggling out of the knotted covers and over to her pet. “Did I wake you up?”
The gator merely blinked in response, his eyes drifting down to the floor and across the room where he spotted a little rubber toy. His squeaky toy.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” She cried as she reached over and grabbed Gummy, pulling him up into a tight hug. He bit at her arms as they wrapped around him, of course to no effect. “I had a nightmare, it was awful!”
Gummy tried to get out of the lock, but the mare didn’t give him any room to breathe, let alone escape.
“Oh, but I can’t really remember much. I just know Spike was in it and he was getting hurt by somepony!”
The gator made a noise of irritation. It fell on deaf ears.
“I wonder if he’s okay! Maybe I should go check on him?”
The Ponyville library, a place of learning, a place of adventure, a place of towering bookshelves lined with tomes of every size and color. And of course, the home of a dragon. If one listened they could easily hear his snores as he slept beneath the mountain of blankets and pillows. The room in which this dragon resided was all his own, once used for storage now converted into a bedroom for the drake. With his aging came the desire for his own living space, a floor littered with discarded belongs and moldy leftovers.
It was usually at this moment that his alarm would go off. Strangely, this was not so. While the bedside table did indeed have a clock resting upon it the clock itself was blank. No green numbers aglow on the glass, only a simple black surface.
It was nearing noon by the time the library’s other occupant awoke, instantly realizing something was amiss. A late night of studying may caused her to oversleep but the smell of breakfast would have awoken her bright and early. Spike usually kept a tight schedule and something had caused him to shirk his duty as number one assistant!
Under his mound of softness, Spike was firmly rooted in dreamland when a pounding came to his bedroom door. Of course, all this did was agitate Peewee. The phoenix lifted from his perch of stacked plates and bowls, toppling it as he flew around the room, making quite a racket while doing so. Just as the pounding stopped the door creaked open to reveal a lavender mare, hoof over her nose to block out the stench of dragon B.O and food well past it’s expiration date.
“Spike! Wake up, lazy bones!” Twilight called into the room, eyeing the pile as it shifted. The dragon beneath adjusted his position, knocking the lot of it to the floor. One of his favorite pillows landing on an opened box of half-eaten pizza. Through the daze of sleepiness, Spike sat up on the bed. He stretched, straightening his arms and bending his back until he heard and felt a satisfying crack.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes his gaze soon traveled to his digital alarm clock. Of course, the sight of it blank told him everything he needed to know.
“Guess I overslept, huh?” He groaned, looking toward Twilight, only to find she had disappeared from the doorway. The stench probably got to her, but Spike simply shrugged and slid out of the bed. He kicked a bowl away from his foot as he stretched once again. His eyes followed the cord from the back of the clock to the end. His palm found it’s way to his face, dragging down slowly. The damn thing was unplugged, but he could have sworn it was showing the time before he fell asleep the night before.
Trying to make his way through the mess he called a room, Spike glanced up at Peewee, who was still flying around madly. “Calm down, featherbrain and I’ll let you out.” He laughed, of course he was ignored. Peewee had a mind of his own and was always hyper when he woke up. The dragon reached the window and, with very little effort, proceeded to slide it open. This would be a normal thing to happen if Spike wasn’t one of those types that locked his home up tighter than Fort Knox at night.
“Huh?” He breathed as Peewee flew through the open window. Through the thick of mold and dragon-stink he smelled something sweet, like cotton candy. He knew this smell, he remembered it vividly from the day before.
Pinkie Pie?