Cruciatus

by Pon de Don


Must Be the Feeling

Spike has always hated the cold. The frigid and somehow constricting nature of chilliness has always unsettled Spike and since he was reptilian in nature and had a literal flame dwelling within, this contempt was of no surprise to anyone. And seeing how old pony winter had recently arrived in Equestria, this frigidity would only continue to worsen and would soon cover the land in a thick, pristine rug of pure white snow. Everyone would rejoice and frolic in the seasonal wonderland and Spike would just have to get used to it, as he has done for every year of his short life.

It sure didn't mean that Spike had to like it though. And the bitter cloak of the cold surrounding his little body certainly didn't help Spike complete his chores around his new home, or as the locals have come to call it, the Castle of Friendship. His chores for the day were simple: clean the kitchen, wash the dishes, dust all the thrones of the Elements of Harmony, quickly clean all major rooms and sweep all the major hallways so the castle would look more presentable. Now while Spike may have been indifferent to doing similar chores back in his old home of the Golden Oaks Library, his new home had one glaring difference that only helped sour Spike's already frosty attitude.

The Castle of Friendship was sprawling and gigantic... and empty. Oh sure, there was the occasional chair, side table, long rug, and numerous crystal chandeliers housing a frail, flickering flame that would barely illuminate one's way if they dared venture through the castle at night. And six of the thrones in the center of the castle were truly a sight to behold...but they, along with everything else, did little to banish the sinking feeling of isolation Spike was always feeling in his new home. The long and lonely hallways, echoing the sound of the tiny flames struggling to stay alive, that would only lead to a staircase or rooms filled with desolate tables surrounded by empty chairs draped with empty cloth.

Thankfully however, Spike had reached his final chore and was about done with it; dust the throne room. Spike had saved the easiest chore for last and was ever thankful that the fireplace, though dormant, would soon be raging with Spike's green flames.

Oh boy! I can't wait until I'm done with these stupid chores, Spike thought to himself as he finished dusting Twilight's grand throne and hopped off the cushioned seat. Spike cast a wayward glance towards the fireplace on the opposite side of the room and breathed out a happy sigh. Gonna sit my butt down, warm up my claws, and enjoy some jewel crusted marshmallows after this is all done. With that in mind, Spike turned his attention to his last obstacle but momentarily hesitated when it came into full view.

The last thing that needed minimal cleaning and polishing was the seventh throne. The last throne.

His throne.

Unlike the six other thrones that stood tall and erect, imposing their power, glory, and the emblazoned individual cutie marks that belonged to their respective owners, Spike's was downright pitiful. His throne was not large and wide, it was daresay half the respective size of all the other thrones. There was no proud insignia shining at the top of his throne; it was blank. It couldn't even stand on its' own for it was merged with Twilight's incredible throne. It looked like a cheap add-on thrown in at the last moment. It lacked a certain character to it, it lacked any sense of pride.

It lacked warmth... like this crystal spire.

Spike closed his eyes and let out a short sigh, releasing a small cloud of vapor that only the cold could provide. Well... at least I have a throne! I gotta be grateful for that... even if it looks like a bed for Winona. A small scowl appeared on Spike's face after hearing that thought. Let's just get this over with.

Spike stepped onto his throne and began wiping away the dust lazily clinging to the armrest and then moved to the back rest of the little throne. As Spike continuously cleaned and wiped, he began to feel a very unwanted, uncomfortable, yet familiar feeling that had been plaguing the little whelp ever since he moved into the crystal castle. And it only happened when Twilight was away.

He felt like he was being watched again.

This feeling was familiar for the dragon because it had started shortly after he, Twilight, and Owlicious moved into the castle. At first, Spike simply thought it was Owlicious spying on Spike just so he could give the dragon a bad time. But then Spike soon found out that Owlicious now usually spent his time resting in Twilight's room if there was nothing to do or he was hunting for rodents if it was during the evening. And Spike knew that all the doors were locked for the day so no one could not have come inside to speak with Princess Twilight for friendship advice.

If they wanted that, they would've gone to the spa where she and all of her other friends had gone for the afternoon.

As Spike finished his chore, the feeling was starting to weigh down on him and he soon found it nigh unbearable. It felt as though an unblinking gaze was piercing his very being while he toiled away in solitude. He swiftly swung his head around, facing the center of the room and expecting to find something, anything that could be there to explain why they were staring and lurking about. But like every time this happened, Spike found no one standing, sitting, or even flying in place gazing at him. Only the coldness and the void of the room and crystal castle greeted him. And like every time before, Spike was stricken with fear. Not because he found no one there waiting for him but because he felt like the gaze had hardened its' scrutiny on him. Spike's eyes drifted from the various thrones, the fireplace, and to the couple of banners hanging on the walls. No sound could be heard except the grand chandeliers' minimal movements and cracks of tiny flames. And Spike's terrified breathing.

An odd thought suddenly appeared in Spike's head. If he could not see anything, then perhaps he should call for whoever may be in the room.... only the room is completely empty.

No, that's just crazy. It's like I'm calling out to ghosts now.... Spike's gaze then focused on the center of the room, right in the center of all thrones. This place can't be haunted! The castle is brand new and I'm pretty sure it didn't sprout over an ancient earth pony burial ground.

Despite his rational and cognitive thinking, that feeling, that awful dreadful feeling would not leave Spike. The perceived gaze of scrutiny would not lift off of him no matter what he thought to himself.

....Maybe it wouldn't hurt to try. Hands shaking from the cold and fear, he brought them up to his mouth and cleared his throat. Still eyeing the center of the room, he spoke as clearly as could while trying the keep the shaking out of his voice.

"Hello?" Silence was his only response. Gathering some courage, he called out again. "I know you're in here so just come on out!" Again, silence was his answer. Becoming irritated now, Spike growled, "Look, whoever you are, I know you've been doing this for a while now so there's no point in hiding! If you want to talk to me, then just do it!"

"Then I will," a faint, quiet, almost minuscule whisper caressed the whelp's fins, causing Spike to jump and scream in absolute terror. He spun around to see if anyone was behind him, but only the far wall greeted him.

"Wha, what was that?!" Spike frantically murmured to himself as he desperately tried to steady his nerves and slow his racing heart. He once again looked all around the room but found nothing out of the ordinary. I... I have to be imagining this. There's clearly no one here.... but that voice. Spike could still hear it clearly in his mind, buzzing around at stupendous speeds trying to decipher it. It was a very faint whisper, but Spike could make out that it was feminine, yet there was a loving and caring tone associated with it. It didn't sound like any mare that Spike has known in his time in Ponyville and Canterlot.

Strangely however, Spike suddenly felt that he was no longer being gazed upon, like he was truly alone again. And his feeling of isolation vanished when he heard the echoing off a lock clicking followed by the clunking of mahogany place doors being swung open.

Twilight's home! Spike happily thought to himself. "Hey Twilight!" Spike happily called out down the hallway.

"Spike?" Twilight's echoed off the walls and down the hallways to where Spike was. "Where are you?"

"I'm in the throne room Twi! Just finishing up the chores!"

"Oh okay! I'll be right there! Give me a moment..." Twilight's voice trailed off into silence.

Then, with a flash of a bright light, Twilight teleported into the throne and landed right in front of Spike. She looked down upon her number one assistant smiling and greeted him with a short nuzzle. "Hey Spike. How's my little dragon doing?"

"I'm.... I'm doing okay I guess," Spike replied as Twilight looked down at him. "It's just been a long day.... and kind of a weird one too."

"Weird?" Twilight quizzically questioned. "Weird how?"

Spike then looked into Twilight's eyes and debated whether or not he should tell her about the earlier incident. Spike was so sure that he heard someone, a mare even, whisper in his fins. But it was so quiet, so faint he couldn't even tell if he heard anything for certain. In the end, Spike just settled it on being nothing more than cabin fever. He has been doing chores inside all day long.

Spike finally replied with a friendly smirk, "Well when you've been doing chores all day in a giant freezer, things can get kinda weird after a while."

Twilight let out a soft chuckle and said, " Yeah, I guess doing chores for hours can make anyone stir-crazy." Twilight then looked Spike in the eye and said,"But I really do appreciate that you cleaned up the castle. I know that they took longer than they would've back at the library, but I mean it, Spike. I really do appreciate it." Twilight then proceeded to give Spike another loving nuzzle. Twilight started to shiver and said, "Boy, you weren't kidding when you said it's cold in here. Lemme fix that!"

With her horn glowing, Twilight set the tiny fire in the chandeliers aflame to roaring heights and also set the fireplace ablaze. Twilight let out a content sigh and said to Spike, "Much better!" Twilight's gaze drifted over to the newly lit fireplace and said," Say, after dinner, do want to make some marshmallows?"

"Only if their jewel-encrusted! But yeah, lets get dinner started!"Spike happily proclaimed as he started his way into the kitchen with Twilight in tow. "So how were the girls?" Spike asked as he brought out a chopping board from the cupboard.

"Oh they are all doing great! They also said hi by the way," Twilight explained as she proceeded to seat herself at the table. As Twilight began her recap of the events and topics she and her friends talked about, Spike began to chop away at a batch of carrots, happily content to hear Twilight talk about her day. Yet while he worked away at creating dinner, that gnawing, haunting feeling of being watched returned to Spike. This time however, Spike tried to the best of his ability to block it out.

No Spike, it's just your imagination. You're just tired and hearing things from working all day. It has to be your imagination.... Spike's gaze slowly drifted out of the kitchen, past Twilight, and back into the throne room. That empty throne room where there was absolutely nothing but an active fireplace. That didn't help Spike feel better.

It has to be....

____________________________________

I see you....

This realm is something a mortal being could never understand. They could never understand the billowing fog that would always follow them wherever they wander. They could never understand how a strong wind blows wherever they go, even if they are indoors. They could never understand a world that is muted in dark shades of blue and only the sun is the source of a pale light, even if heavily muted. They could never understand a world where all sounds are nothing more than a muted whirlwind of whispers that would never cease. They could never understand how to have no feeling in everything they touched, not even the chalky dirt of a lone, worn road or the softness and itchiness of fresh spring grass. They could never understand how even smell is banished here and how they could never smell the freshness of newly baked bread or the smoky aroma of firecrackers in celebration. They could understand absolutely nothing except one thing.

They could understand that this realm is primeval pain. No mortal is made for this and not even the most insane of all creatures would dare call this home.

But for her, it was home, as it has been for many centuries now.

The one saving grace however was that she could see the mortal realm and walk and be among all its' inhabitants. But of course they can't see her. And why would they? Why would mortals, who fear what they are going to wear for a ball, want to meet a creature writhing in pain for centuries? She could show herself to them, but none of them are worthy of her. She only makes herself, subtly, known when she feels she has met a mortal worth her time.

I see you....

And indeed, how she has found a mortal worth her time. She has been watching him everyday for a few years now, constantly observing this little mortal that fascinates her. Recently, she has been growing bold and has been making herself known to her whelp, letting him know she's there.

Like she always has been.

I see you....

She has forgotten when she first claimed him as her own, but considering how long she has existed in this horrific limbo, time seems to have lost meaning to her. Why should it have any meaning if she could share it with no one?.... No, she refused to share it wastefully. It would only be used for mortals that had caught her eye. And oh, how this dragon caught her eye.

I see you....

Every day for the past month has she uttered those words and every time those words left her lips, her presence became stronger and now he has started to notice, looking around trying to find the source of presence he felt. She doesn't risk it however when that pony is around him. No, only when he is alone will she continue, for he is hers.

I see you....

And perhaps, maybe one day, the little mortal may finally acknowledge her.... for if he did....

I see you....wait, what's this? He's clearing his throat... "Hello?"

Could it be.... has he?

"I know you're in here so just come on out!"

....

"Look, whoever you are, I know you've been doing this for a while now so there's no point in hiding! If you want to talk to me, then just do it!"

Her eyes widened as she heard the little mortal's proclamation. Yes....Spike.... you finally see me.... and you wish of me to expose myself? She then appears right by his side, kneels down and gently whispers with a small smile, "Then I will."

She immediately retracts her presence from the mortal realm, and watches with a small hint of amusement as he jumps in place and frantically looks around. She then hears large doors opening off in the distance, signifying the purple ponys' return. She looks on as the pony teleported into the throne room and greet her little mortal. She watched as the two discussed trivial things that were not worthy of her ears. She then sees the pony ignite the flames and watches the pair walk off, likely to eat something of sustenance.... oh how she missed the taste of food.

Never moving from where she stood, she averted her gaze from the kitchen and looked down onto her little mortal's throne, or what she considered to be a poor excuse of one. She studied the throne extensively to see if there was truly anything remarkable about it.... but could find no such thing.

Such a tiny, frail thing.... it's very existence is wasted. Though she couldn't feel it, she rested her hand upon the armrest of the pitiful throne. Strange.... so strange.... Her eyes began to slightly shimmer in quiet dismay as she gazed upon the sad thing and her face contorted into a melancholy grimace as she looked upon the crown of the little throne, only to find it desolate and empty of anything resembling pride. 'Tis a strange fate that one so small must suffer so much fear and doubt....alone....

Keeping her hand on the throne, she looked into the kitchen and focused her attention completely on Spike. Such a little thing.... Her eyes suddenly became sharp, determined, and focused. And for the briefest of moments, the two made eye contact, pure white eyes of power meeting an unknowing set of uncertain emerald.

I see you.... and you see me.... yes Spike.... it is time.