//------------------------------//
// Prolog: A what? Where? 
// Story: The Name is Spike 
// by SkyeSilverwing 
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The Name is Spike
By Skye Silverwing
Prolog: A What? Where?
Spike shifted within the cramped confines of the dark space in which he now found himself. The blackness left no room for the ensouled vampire to breath, let alone move, and there was a heat to it that was, actually rather unbearable. Surely this cramped section of Oblivion was the Hell that the Powers had chosen for William the Bloody. A final and fitting end for a vampire that had saved the world.
The last thing that he remembered before being placed in this intolerable place was the Amulet around his neck burning and searing his flesh as the Turok-Han around him crumbled to dust. He had looked to the sky and saw the Sun descend on him with fiery wings as it rendered his body to ash. It was nice, he thought, to feel the Sun on his skin one last time before it was all over. Like getting one last hug from an old fling.
And now, he was here, wrapped up tighter than a fly on some spider’s dinner plate, alone and waiting in the dark for what seemed like an eternity. Hell, it probably was. 
It wasn’t even the darkness that got to him though. He had seen his share of Darkness. He had hidden in it, skulked in it, lurked in it, and toward the end, he found that the Dark was a great place for brooding. No, it was the silence that he found most maddening. The deep depressing endless lack of sound that screamed in his ears like a banshee, deafening him, threatening to destroy the shreds of sanity that still remained to him. 
Unable to move, unable to see, unable to hear or feel anything, he sat alone with only his thoughts for company. Time slipped by, hours, minutes, days, years and months, or maybe it didn’t, in this endless Hell. And all he could do was think about how much he wanted to be free again, loose from this Hellish prison. 
Sometimes he pushed on the walls of his prison, and sometimes he tried to scream, but the Walls were thick and strong, and he could summon no voice. Inside, he cried for someone to save him. Someone to let him out of this place, his hopes sinking into a deep sea of despair in the depths of his soul. 
Then, he heard something.
“I’m sorry I wasted your time.” The voice said in a sorrowful tone.
Spike wasn’t sure if it had been his imagination, or a phantom this horrible hell had sent to plague him, but he wanted so badly to reassure the voice’s owner that she was not wasting his time. He wished he could see her face, the girl whose voice had pulled him back from the brink. Then he heard a crash and a startled gasp as the walls of his prison suddenly lit up, and a streak of light suddenly shot around the walls widening as the walls themselves fell away.
Tasting freedom for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Spike blinked as the light blinded him and an endless stream of the sounds living things struck his ears. He was alive, and he stretched out his arms and legs and took a deep breath of sweet, clean air.
Then, just as suddenly as his release had been, he felt himself suddenly thrust upward, driving his head through the roof of the building as he grew to enormous size. From this new vantage point, he could see a wide, sun-soaked countryside, surrounding a great city built onto the side of a mountain. It all seemed so pure and clean compared to Sunnydale. Or any of the other places he had been in a long time. 
Suddenly it struck him that the sun was shining down on him, and yet he was not burning. The warm sensation of the sunlight on his skin felt good. He closed his eyes and just felt the soft sunlight warming his skin.
And then he was falling. He landed in a small pile of straw piled atop a broken pile of wood. He seemed to be in some sort of classroom, with a number of huge horses all around him. The closest was a white Mare with wings and a horn and hair that flowed on a non-existent wind. She looked down at a purple unicorn filly who looked as very ashamed of herself.
The winged unicorn spoke calmly. “Twilight Sparkle.” She said.
The younger unicorn hung her head and looked up sheepishly at the majestic white mare. “Oh, I’m very sorry, I didn’t mean…” she simpered, only to be cut off by the other continuing.
“You have a very special gift.” She said, “I don’t think I’ve ever come across a unicorn with your raw abilities.”
The violet pony stared up at her regal counterpart and responded in a brilliantly eloquent manner: “Huh?!”
“But you need to learn to tame these abilities through focused study.” The White mare said.
To which the young unicorn responded. “Huh?!!”
Spike had to try not to chuckle, a real poet, that one.
The Elder pony smiled at the younger. “Twilight Sparkle, I would like to make you my own personal protégé here at the school.” She said.
The purple unicorn– Twilight, apparently– responded brilliantly. “HUH?!?!”
The winged teacher looked down at her soon to be student. “Well?” she asked.
Twilight glanced at two of the other unicorns in the room, who were both nodding emphatically, and then turned and leapt into the air jubilantly crying “YES!”
The regal white mare smiled at her student. “One more thing, Twilight, she said, indicating the small image of a star flanked by a few more sparkling stars that had appeared on the younger pony’s flank.
Twilight stared at it for a moment and then cried, “My Cutie Mark!” and began to dance around happily repeating “yes!” over and over again.
While she hopped and danced, and capered, Spike shifted his weight, noticing an odd feeling from his rear. Looking down, he spotted the problem: He had a tail.
It was purple and scaled, and so were his arms and legs. He was about to say something about it when he noticed that the white mare was looking at him now, as he watched her approach, he realized how much respect her posture and bearing demanded. He bowed, knowing it was the only thing to do.
She looked at him and smiled. “Hello, Spike.” She said softly, so as not to draw the attention of her charge who was still caught up in her own celebration to pay attention to much of anything. “I am Princess Celestia. I hope your time in your egg was not too unbearable.”
Suddenly Spike recalled the Sun, descending to him on wings of fire. “It was you.” He said, with new clarity, “You saved me from dying when the Hellmouth fell.”
The winged unicorn nodded. “I thought it unfair that such a noble soul should be destroyed by my power, and instead placed your soul in this dragon egg.” She said, “I trust it was not too discomforting?”
Spike looked up at her, a dark look on his face. “It was Hell.” He said flatly, “Cramped and dark and silent, with only the whispers of your own demons in your ears for what feels like an eternity.”
The Princess’s face grew apologetic. “I am sorry.” She said, “I did not realize that you would be conscious in there.”
Spike looked at her and sighed. “No worries, luv.” He said, downplaying the trauma, “I’ve been through worse hells than that.”
Celestia nodded, relieved, and then gave Spike a pointed look. “You just saw me accept my newest student, correct?” she asked.
Spike nodded. “You mean miss prancy panties over there?” he asked, indicating Twilight, who was still hopping and repeating “Yes” over and over.
Celestia nodded. “I was hoping that you would be so kind as to act as her assistant.” She said, “Helping her out, keeping an eye on her, protecting her and serving as a way for me to contact her any time I need to, and for her to contact me.”
Spike looked from the Princess to her student. “She is the one that let me out of that egg?” he asked.
Celestia nodded.
Spike watched the purple pony hopping around a little while longer and then sighed. “I suppose I owe her that much for getting me out of there.” He said, “But you promise me that when I hit the size where I can fight, I can get back home. I got some unfinished business to attend to.”
Celestia nodded. “You will be able to take the rainbow both ways all you need.” She said.
Spike nodded. 
Celestia turned and called Twilight over. “Twilight Sparkle, I want you to meet Spike.” She said, a little mirth shining in her violet eyes. “He is your dragon familiar, and will be your assistant from this point on.”
Spike did not like the idea of being a “familiar”, but let it drop. He gave the Purple Pony a soft “Hey.”
Twilight smiled, “Nice to meet you, Spike.” She said, “I hope we can work well together.”
Spike smiled back. “Me, too.”
.o0o. .o0o. .o0o. .o0o. .o0o.
What do you all think? Should I continue this story? Should I go ahead and advance it to the beginning of the MLP: FiM series and run the pilot with the former vampire Spike helping Twilight out? One thing for sure, *this* Spike knows the importance of a serious prophecy, and won’t faint at the sight of Nightmare Moon. He might not be such a good advocate for Twilight making friends though.
In any case, thoughts, opinions, and constructive criticism always accepted.