Childe Spike in the Chaos Master's Realm

by MisterEdd

The First Task

Spike wiped his brow and trudged forward, his bag becoming heavy on his back. He stopped, taking in the sights and sounds of the amazingly untouched main road. It was a simple dirt path on a winding hill of green grass, a breath of fresh air considering the insanity of the rest of Discordtopia. He’d hiked past the Cliffs of Insanity, where he could’ve sworn he saw two figures engaged in a swordfight at the peak, and followed the path the old stallion had directed him on. So far, his journey had been pretty uneventful.

And then the music started playing.

“Star Swirl? Are you hearing that music too?”

“You mean the showtune? Yes, I am.”

Drawing his sword, Spike held the blade out in front of him as a series of checkered purple and orange walls and ceilings were erected all around him, closing him off from the outside world. He spun to find that his way out had been blocked off, leaving him alone in the tunnel. What in Celestia is this? A crackling sound blared on his left and he pivoted to find himself facing a staticky TV. The image then changed into the face of someone that Spike had been dreading to see for the past year, someone whose very image haunted his nightmares.

“Hellooooo Spike!” Discord grinned on the television. “Did you miss me?”

“Discord,” Spike growled. “What do you want?”

The draconequus gasped and raised his lion’s paw to his chest. “Can’t a fellow simply converse with an old friend without wanting something?”

“We’re not friends, you piece of slime! I’ll ask again: what...do...you...want?”

Discord dropped the melodrama. “So blunt. Oh fine, very well then. You see, Spikey, I’ve been so, well, bored, that I’ve been going mad!” He then tapped his chin with an eagle’s talon. “Okay, mad-der. So I decided to pay you a visit! You should be flattered! It’s not everyday the king stops to have a chat with one of his subjects!”

“You’re no king of mine, Discord,” Spike hissed venomously. “Just get to the point.”

“Indeed, thou wyrm of deceit,” Star Swirl agreed.

Discord shot the skull a warning glare before turning his attention to Spike. “Hmph. It’s simple really: I’m going to present you a series of challenges and all you have to do is…” He leaned forward as if to reveal a big secret. “...Survive. Isn’t that grand?!”

Spike lowered his sword. “Yeah...that’s not going to happen.” He strode past the TV, only to find, to his annoyance, another one, this time on the opposite wall.

“Are you sure? You know it might be f-uuuu-uuun!” TV Discord said sing-songingly.

The TV burst in a shower of glass and smoke. Spike withdrew his sword and sheathed it, having enough of this nonsense. “There’s nothing ever good on,” he muttered.

All along the hallway, a hundred more TVs were switched on, all of them of various sizes and featuring Discord’s glowering visage.

“You know, that was awfully rude. Some knight you are. Oops, I mean, 'childe,'” Discord added derisively, his fingers curling into air quotes.

“This is intolerable!” Star Swirl exclaimed, and Spike had to agree with him.

“Enough of your games, Discord!”

The hallway was then filled with laughter as a hundred Discords cackled madly, some holding their guts while others slapped their knees or banged obnoxiously on the screens. “Oh trust me, kiddo,” their voices stated ominously, “The game has only just begun.”

With a snap of his fingers, a giant rubber band ball thudded onto the floor behind Spike and began to roll towards him. The drake needed no prompting; he dashed forward, his legs twin pistons as the ball picked up speed. The TV Discords snickered mockingly, their laughter following Spike while he sprinted down the hallway, which now appeared to be a never ending corridor of checkered walls and chortling Discord faces. His chest heaved, his lungs begging for air but Spike refused to rest. I will rest when this madness is behind me.

The rumbling behind Spike let him know that the ball was catching up to him; he refused to look behind him to prevent fear from slowing him down. Once he looked behind him, it was game over and he’d come too far to give up.

“Don’t stop, Spike! We’re almost there!”

Star Swirl was right! The end of the hallway was mercifully right before them! Channeling all his energy, Spike pushed himself to his limit, tearing down the hallway like a dragon possessed, beads of sweat drizzling down his brow. He ignored the sweat clinging to his eyelids and seeping into his nostrils; his desire for freedom and the sight of the wooden door overriding his feelings of discomfort and exhaustion. Almost...there…!

A scream escaped Spike’s maw as a trap door open up underneath him, sending him tumbling headfirst down a small chute and landed on top of something very soft. He shook his head and rubbed at his forehead, heavy breaths fighting to refill his lungs with oxygen. Rolling off of the pile, he realized that it was a collection of Discord plushies, each one with a different facial expression or little outfit. He picked up the nearest one-a Discord in a propeller beanie and a giant lollipop, his tongue stuck out of a toothy grin-and ripped its head off, tossing the two pieces across the room. Spike dusted himself off and leaned backward to crack his back, a satisfying pop echoing in his ears.

“Well, that was certainly an experience,” Star Swirl grumbled, sounding very dizzy and very agitated.

Spike cradled the skull in his hands, peering down into its eye sockets. “I just don’t get it. Why would Discord try to kill me and then turn around and save me? It just doesn’t make any sense.”

He somehow got the impression that Star Swirl was giving him an eyebrow-raised expression. “Have you forgotten who we’re dealing with? Nothing that creature does makes any sort of logical sense." He paused and Spike took as a sign to stroke the skull's once gloriously-maintained beard, now only a few matted strands hanging from his bottom jaw. It was something that the unicorn once did while in deep thought and was obviously unable to perform. "Thank you. He said that he was bored. Evidently, Discord is toying with us or, more specifically, you. ”

“Lucky me,” Spike muttered. “So what do I do?”

“Play his game. If you keep Discord entertained, it will not only give him a reason not to dispose of you but can also buy us enough time to come up with a plan.”

As much as Spike wanted to deny it, Star Swirl's advice was pretty sound, mostly because he himself couldn’t think of anything better. Discord was tricky, backstabbing and above all, unpredictable. His mood shifted like the seasons so there was no telling when he’d tire of his new plaything nor what he’d do to Spike when that come would inevitably come. But thankfully, Discord had a glaring flaw: he was extremely vain, thinking himself akin to a god and went to great lengths to convince himself and others of this fact. If I could somehow exploit this weakness, then I’d have that chimeric bastard right where I want him and end this nightmare.

“Alright, I’ll be Discord’s new toy. For now.”

A scratching sound drew Spike’s attention to a nearby wall, where a white chalk drawing began to slowly sketch itself out on the stone surface. It eventually created a door, which then swung forward, revealing a small foyer leading to a set of metal doors, a bright red neon sign above it proudly declaring, “ENTER HERE!”

“It’s a trap,” Spike whispered, allowing Star Swirl to swing from his hip as a hand flew to his sword.

“Undoubtedly,” Star Swirl uttered. “But spring it we must.”

Cautiously entering the foyer, Spike slowly grabbed ahold of the metal push bar on one of the doors, a cold chill running down his spine. What was waiting for him on the other side? Ravenous manticores? A starving hydra? Samurai pizza cats? He shook free the worries that’d been lodged in his head and with a deep breath, shoved the door open and stepped through it.

What Spike hadn’t expected was to walk into a large TV studio auditorium filled with dozens of Discord-clones, from the whooping duplicates in the seats to the bored-looking camera men filming the event. The overhead lights flashed in his eyes, partially blinding him as he strode to the center, his sword drawn and ready to spill blood. He stood in front of a tacky game show set, complete with an electronic scoreboard and several multi-colored bulbs. “What the…-?”

Just then, Discord’s voice rang out, only in an exaggerated, overly enthusiastic voice: “Ladies and gentlecolts, it’s time once again for everypony’s favorite game show...”

“SLIME TIME!” The audience cheered and another Discord poofed alongside Spike, wearing a black toupee and a blue tweed suit, waving to the audience and throwing a couple of winks and kisses.

“Hello everypony! Welcome to Slime Time!” Host Discord grinned, speaking into a tiny microphone. “Now, let’s meet our contestant. Spike is a twenty-year-old dragon that works as a page-whoops!-I mean, ‘childe’ and enjoys long walks, talking to skulls and getting shot down by a certain unicorn fashionista.”

Spike’s patience bar was officially at zero. “So what am I doing here?”

Ignoring the snippy tone, Host Discord smiled, “Well Spike, the aim of the show is to survive three minutes-that’s three minutes-submerged in slime.” A curvaceous female Discord in a shimmering gold dress gestured towards a glass tank and pursed her lips at Host Discord, who made biting motions at her. “Ahem, where was I? Ah yes. Survive that and you could take home the fabulous prize of living! Nothing beats that, am I right?” The audience applauded and whistled in agreement.

Leaning forward, Host Discord's face suddenly took on a malicious predatory savageness. "And if you lose...you die."

Spike gulped. He wasn’t much of a swimmer and the last time he had checked, he could only hold his breath to about two minutes. Still, he was on a sacred quest and wouldn’t let anyone intimidate him, especially the Lord of Chaos. Well, there's no way out of this, is there?

Adopting an air of false bravado, Spike puffed out his chest and grinned, "I accept."

Author's Note:

Discord's appearance is based off of 1970's Bob Barker