You Poor Thing

by 2Merr


What cruel god would allow this?

"And here we are! This is my home: the Golden Oak Library. I work as the librarian, so you can usually find me here if you ever need anything," the strange purple creature says while waving a hoof towards a massive tree. She introduced herself earlier at the start of the tour, but you immediately forgot her name. One thing you do remember is that she called herself a pony (a unicorn, to be exact). Now, you aren't a zoologist, but you're pretty sure that ponies back home look a bit more... horse-like. These things look like squishy alien dogs, with most of them having wings or a horn; the rest got the short end of the genetic stick and ended up with neither. They all have colorful ass tattoos on both cheeks. Apparently those are called cutie marks or some gay shit like that.

"That's a tree," you observe intelligently.

"Yeah, I get that a lot,” the pony says with a small laugh, clearly impressed by your keen perception. “Come on inside, I'll introduce you to Spike. You won't meet anypony more helpful than him."

She lights up the door with her magic forehead and gestures for you to go in first. You step inside and looking around. After a few seconds of critical analysis, you conclude that the inside is also a tree. A very hollow one. There are bookshelves lining the wall of the circular room and a few free-standing bookshelves lined up neatly in the center. To your surprise, the ones against the wall appear to be part of the tree itself. There is a staircase that also looks to be growing from the tree as it spirals upwards along the wall.

Is this tree still alive? There were leaves on the branches, so it must be. Are they using magic to sustain it? These monsters carved out the inside of a tree and now use it to store the alphabetically sorted remains of its family... and they won't even let it die.

It seems like ponies are far more twisted than humans could ever be.

"Spike, come meet our guest! He's from another dimension!" You can hear the genuine excitement in her voice, and it makes you nervous. She sounds a little too eager.

"Coming, Twilight," a raspy voice, presumably Spike, calls from somewhere above you.

So that's her name—Twilight. What an awful, uncreative name. At least human names have originality and thought put into them, like your own.

Your musings about humanity's superior naming capabilities are interrupted by something that sounds like claws scratching on wood. She must have a dog or something. You turn to the source of the noise as Twilight clears her throat.

"Anon, this is Spike, my number one assistant," she proudly introduces with another wave of her hoof.

That's not a dog. Dogs don't have scales.

"Nice to meet you! My name is Spike. I mostly just keep the library clean, it's not that big of a deal."

And it can talk. But... only ponies can talk. Twilight took you to some yellow pony's house where there were tons of animals, and none of them were intelligent, so what the hell is this thing?

You think back to what Twilight said about Spike: "You won't meet anypony more helpful than him."

So, he's a pony, but what the fuck happened to him? He has no hair whatsoever. His entire body is covered in a terrible rash, making his skin hard and scale-like. Most of it is purple, but the rash on his underside is yellow. You can’t tell if that's better or worse. His spine is misshapen and way too large for his body, forcing him to walk on his hind legs. Almost half of it sticks out from the back of his hips like some kind of giant, bony tail. His vertebrae poke out of the skin in triangular lumps. On the top of his skull is a massive bone tumor, which has also broken through the hard skin. The exposed bones are all green and clearly infected. His ears look rotten, barely attached to his skin. They're so thin, you can almost see through them. They look like the frills of a fish or some sort of reptile. The worst of all are his hooves. Instead of a hard, flat cylinder like the other ponies, he has fleshy protrusions that twitch and wiggle. The scaly rash makes them look sharp and claw-like. These must have been the cause of the scratching sound you heard before. You try not to vomit.

"Uhh.. Twilight, is he okay?" Spike says worriedly. You could ask the same about him.

You realize you've been staring at the pitiful creature. "I- I'm fine," you quickly say. "It's very nice to meet you, Spike." You pray to whatever pony gods exist that he won't try to shake your hand.

They are merciful, and he merely smiles at you.

Ripping your gaze away, you turn back to Twilight. "It's been... fun, but I should probably head to my new house and start getting settled in."

"Oh! I didn't realize it was so late," she exclaims as she glances out a nearby window. "I completely lost track of time while giving the tour. I'm so sorry." She looks like a sad puppy, with her head lowered and her ears drooping. The rush of diabetes into your bloodstream is almost enough to make you forget about the other pony's horribly disfigured body. "Do you know how to get there from here?"

Shit. "…No."

"Don't worry, you'll learn your way around in no time at all," she assures you. "I can just have Spike lead you back. That way, you two can get to know each other a little better. I'm sure he'd love to finally have another male friend." The diabetes immediately turns into leukemia.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Wait, which house is his?" Spike pipes up from behind you.

A tiny spark of hope flares to life in your chest, before being crushed by the sadistic librarian.

"It's the green house across from Sugarcube Corner. You can't miss it." The leukemia has become full-blown AIDS.

You turn away from Twilight, feeling betrayed beyond measure. How can something so adorable be capable of such evil?

"Alright," Spike says as he waddles into view. "Let's get going, Anon!" Your name sounds like a curse on his diseased lips.

You silently follow, trying to rely on hearing alone so you don't have to look at him anymore. Hooves are loud as fuck, so it doesn't work with other ponies walking nearby. You settle on keeping him at the edge of your vision by staring at the ground just in front of your feet.

You are content with the silence. Apparently, Spike is not.

"So, uhh... What exactly are you?"

You want to die. "I'm a human."

"Human... Cool. I gotta say, I'm kinda glad you showed up. Ponies are great and all, but it's kinda lonely being so different," Spike sighs.

"Well, at least you have other members of your species around," you mutter. It didn't register until now, but you'll probably never see another human again.

Spike's steps are a bit heavier now. "I guess so, but I've never even seen another dragon, so it's pretty much the same as being the only one," he grumbles.

Wait, what? Dragon? Magical unicorns are one thing, but dragons? That's ridiculous. Dragons don't exist. Why would he-

A heavy weight settles into your stomach as it finally hits you. It all makes sense now.

He doesn't know.

But why? Maybe Twilight told him he's a dragon because she didn't want him to know how fucked up he actually is. The entire town must be playing along if he's gone his whole life without discovering the truth.

Spike shuffles along ahead of you, tumor drooping to one side. Your disgust melts into pity. The pony gods are truly cruel. You make a vow to yourself that you will treat Spike with respect from now on. He deserves it just like any other pony.

Your throat tightens and it becomes difficult to breathe. You can feel the tears in your eyes.

"It's okay, buddy," you choke past the lump in your throat. "We can be different together. A human and a dr- dra- dragon."

You are openly weeping now, like the little bitch boy you are.

"Thanks, Anon. That means a lot," Spike quietly responds, his tumor fully erect once more. He hasn't noticed your moment of weakness, so you quickly wipe your face and try to think manly thoughts.

Spike suddenly comes to a halt in front of you. "Well, this is your stop. I'll see you tomorrow, Anon," he says as he turns around.

You simply wave, not trusting your voice. You may not be the best person, but you're gonna make damned sure you're the best friend that pony has.

No... not that pony. That dragon.

You start crying again. What a pussy.