The Dragon's Notebook

by Arby

Redacted

Days later, I sent a reply to the three photographers, requesting them to come check out Rarity's newest lineup. They've all met her, so they all accepted, not specifying the exact date but a general idea. Final Flash responded, stating how popular she was with the Canterlot Elite being his reason for accepting. He would be here in four weeks. Golden Shutter accepted due to Rarity's behaviour being more tolerable than the average Canterlot fashionista, which means he was a likeable guy... I hope he's not the one. He stated he'd arrive in a month's time. Good for the schedule. Snap-trap said he wasn't sure when he'd arrive, but he would love to see Rarity... I'll bet.

I’m still surprised by my ability to write without succumbing to Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, and even more surprised by how much scrolls Twilight manages to waste. Even after her ordeal regarding Future Twilight, she still managed to burn through paper almost as fast as Rainbow can fly. Nonetheless, I happily accepted the lessened workload ever since that day.

I guess I could blame the most recent scroll-shortage on myself, because at the moment, Twilight decided it would be a grand idea to investigate the scroll shortage. I decided to stay quiet while she relentlessly checked her records and order forms. It hadn’t occurred to me that Twilight would check on the mysteriously vanished parchment, so I had a last-minute plan.

Twilight was sifting through the various compartments and shelves in her laboratory basement while I sat on a chair, waiting on Twilight’s request. I nervously looked around, unsure if my behaviour was actual nervousness or genius acting. Either way, I held back on telling Twilight my lie, to make myself seem more guilty, innocent, and scared of an eventual lecture.

“Spike, are you sure I stored my parchment in the paper rack? If so, we must have had thieves steal my parchment.” Twilight stood up straight when she said that, her expression hidden from my own gaze. “Argh! Do I seriously have to put magically generated recognition spells on the door to my basement?”

“Yeah, you did,” I responded, chuckling nervously.

Turning to me, she pursed her lips in disbelief, crinkling her snout. “Are you. One-hundred percent sure. I put them. In the paper rack?” she asked, stepping forward with each short sentence.

Gulping, I avoided eye contact, feeling sweat dripping down my face. Grand acting, or actual fear, I wasn’t quite sure, but it was time to try my lie.

“Well, you did, but maybe-and follow me here-maybe I made a bunch of paper aeroplanes and used up a lot of paper?” I chuckled, staring back at her with a sheepish grin.

She did a double take, her mouth opening and eyes wide open. She stammered out a few words, looked around the library, then back at me before gritting her teeth. She clenched her eyes shut and seemed to growl before sighing.

“So, you wasted over one-hundred scrolls, on a paper craft?” she asked quietly, eyes closed but no longer clenched.

I nodded my head slowly, looking away from her once again. “Yeah. I burned my failures. I didn’t want you to be mad at me,” I responded while putting forward my best sad voice.

I heard a ‘tsk tsk’ from Twilight before feeling a hoof flicking my forehead. I looked back to her to see a saddened smile.

“Spike, if you wanted to make crafts that badly, you could have asked, and I would have bought you crafting paper,” she replied, setting her hoof back on the ground.

I studied her facial expression for any signs of a fake-out, something that indicated she was still peeved at me. Nothing. I felt my lip tremble for a second before saying something.

“R-really?”

She nodded, smiling at me. “I’m a little mad you used, then burned up perfectly fine paper, but getting mad won’t do anypony any good, will it?”

Very few things could make me cry, such as the sight of a Fire Ruby cupcake, thinking my surrogate mother didn’t love me, or my life torn apart by a murderous notebook. This scene was then added to that list. I felt my eyes watering up, feeling absolute shame. The murders, making Rarity cry with Blackhoof’s murder, making Celestia and the entirety of Equestria mourn the loss of their prince, and now, knowing Twilight forgave me for such a stupid lie, and the fact it was a lie to begin with. I looked away from Twilight.

I was right. She does understand. She would protect me through anything, and everything... It should have been clear when she rescued me from a big, green dragon with help from her number two assistant, but I guess all the pressure and guilt I felt decided to justify its placement in my mind in reaction to this act of undeserved kindness.

I choked out a sob. “I’m so sorry! I’ll ask next time! I’m sorry!” I exclaimed, clenching my eyelids shut.

It didn’t lessen the pain, but it made it easier to confess. It was an indirect apology of a murderous dragon, but at least I did it. I felt Twilight’s hooves wrap around me, and I returned the hug. To her, I felt really bad about ruining parchment, but to me, I found the utmost comfort using this to let out my pain of recent, so I did. I let out all of my guilt to the mother who would protect me, no matter the cost. This was the only truth I could face, the one thing that cheered me up since I murdered Blackhoof.

“It’s alright, Spike. It’s only parchment. We can get more, and when I do, I’ll get you some materials,” she whispered to me, shushing me at the same time.

Dammit, I did not deserve her love and protection, but it’s what I needed, and probably what kept me from breaking down and confessing my sins. My resolve to protect Rarity was in the back of my mind, replaced by the guilt.

Our embrace, lasting for ten minutes, consisted of Twilight caressing the back of my head, telling me it was alright while I let out sobs and wails. I eventually leaned back in the chair, releasing my hug. She did the same, quickly brushing off her tear-soaked shoulder. I wiped my eyes, and hoped to Tartarus that Twilight didn't ask me why I had such a hard breakdown.

“Spike, next time, please don't lie. I may get mad at you for something, and I may yell at you, but I don't want you to be scared of me. If you think that, tell me,” she said.

I nodded, blinking as I rubbed my eyes. Looking up, Twilight was reorganizing her basement laboratory. I slumped off the chair, wondering if I'll ever get the courage to tell Twilight what I did. I will, of course, but until then, I'll happily accept being seen as a baby dragon vulnerable to the world’s hardship.

“Twilight, would you like some help?” I offered.

She shook her head. “It's alright, Spike. Why don't you go take a break? You can have a few of your snack gems if you want,” she responded, levitating stacks of used paper into storage.

I felt a pang of excitement flow over my mind, considering I haven't had gems in a few days. I almost ran upstairs immediately to grab the treat, but I stopped. Twilight was radiating motherly affection right now, and I wasn't about to let it go unpaid. There was so much I let Twilight do on her own.

“I can have my treats after I've helped you. I need to earn my treats,” I responded, wiping my eyes once more.

“But Spi-”

“No buts. Those who want to eat want to work as well. I'll earn my treats first,” I said while lifting a stack of records.

Sighing, Twilight picked up another stack of paper. “Alright, Spike. Could you set those records over by the Neuro-feedback machine?”

Raising an eyebrow, I opened my mouth to ask before being cut off immediately.

“The machine I modified to decipher Pinkie Sense, Spike.”

I nodded, setting the records down in front of the strange contraption. I stared at it for a few seconds, pondering what Twilight had said.

Modified... for Pinkie Sense. So, what was its original purpose?

I shrugged and began lifting more papers, Twilight directing me and the other stacks she moved. We made idle chatter while we reorganized her lab, which had played victim to a total dissection. It was my fault, but this entire experience made me a better dragon in the end. I never did abuse Twilight's love for me. I always repaid her in some way, and even to this day, found myself doing small favours for her without request. I tidied up the library whenever I thought it was dusty, I made her a snack every time she came home from whatever. She was my mother, and I decided to prove myself as a good son. Regardless of my lesson from the ordeal, Twilight still managed to remind me that I had a mission.

“I learned something interesting about Rarity's new boyfriend recently,” she said, locking a cabinet.

I perked up instantly, from sadness, and urgency. “Boyfriend?”

“Yes, her boyfriend of three weeks now.”

It has to be that photographer, nopony else could have, or... maybe?

“You don't say,” I responded, dusting a chair mindlessly.

“Yes. He's a full-time photographer for a Las Pegasus magazine called 'The Archive,’” she said while sweeping.

Full-time photographer? Snap-trap. Gotcha, you son of a bitch. Now, for your face, I thought, hiding my smirk.

“A photographer for The Archive? That's great news! Rarity could get a lot of buzz from this,” I responded.

“She is. He's going to appear in Ponyville next week to take some photos of Rarity's new lineup,” Twilight said while setting the broom in a cupboard.

Nodding, I tossed the duster into a nearby box. I looked around, admiring the cleanup we did. The basement lab seemed to benefit from my charade, since it was now completely cleaned, and in the reorganization, we disposed of a lot of outdated, unusable things. It looked brand new.

“It looks nice. Great job, number one assistant!” she exclaimed, looking over our work.

I smirked, puffing my chest out. “Only because you told me where to put everything. I mean, how do you remember where everything goes?” I asked, walking towards the stairs.

“Well, it comes with the brains.” She looked back at the lab, shutting off the light with her magic. “And I guess from the experience, too.”

We walked upstairs, both heading towards the kitchen. Twilight levitated a bowl of gems over to the table, and I hopped up immediately. She brought out several items for making a sandwich and sat down.

“Thanks, mother,” I blurted out before stashing a handful of gems in my mouth.

Twilight paused and looked at me just as I realized what I said. I stopped chewing on the treats and looked over at Twilight. She slowly smiled, chuckling while resuming the creation of her food.

“You're welcome, Spike. I love you,” she responded.

I almost choked on the gem, feeling pressure on my chest. I felt tears bugging my eyes before rubbing them with a free claw. It was there again; the guilt versus the love. Twilight loved me, and she was the only thing keeping my guilt at bay.

“I love you too,” I responded, hearing my voice crack.

It was as if those words cast a protection spell on my subconscious. I no longer felt guilty. Saddened, maybe, but not guilt. I had murdered two ponies. That will never change, and I would murder many more if that is what it takes to keep Rarity safe... and my next kill, was Snap-trap. I just hoped that this next pony wouldn't drive me over the edge. It's hard enough watching Rarity break down each time I slaughter a lover, but it's all worth it in the end.

The week went by faster than I could process it. It was just as boring as the previous ones, and like I said, I treated Twilight differently. I cleaned up whenever, made her a snack, anything to keep her happy and knowing I loved her. Anything to hear those words again. 'I love you.' It worked each time I was sad, and made a bright and sunny day radiating with joy. I felt ready to do my dirty work, knowing that Twilight would still love me as a son. But as the saying goes, 'easier said than done.'

The day he was supposed to arrive, I stood with the rest of the girls; Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rarity herself, and Twilight. A carriage pulled up near the Carousal Boutique, boasting a rather flashy design expected of Las Pegasus. It was pulled by two stallions dressed in a disgusting uniform of green and red. The door opened up, and out stepped the photographer behind it all.

A silver-coated pegasus stepped out clad in a black jacket, saddlebags on his back with a picture of a camera on it. His flank showed his cutie mark depicting a a silhouetted pony almost cowering in fear from a flash. His mane had a slick look to it, brushed in such a way that made him look almost like a prissy Canterlot snob. His smile looked forced to the point where it looked almost like it belonged on a doll. Nothing about this guy struck me as trustworthy or redeemable. The cutie mark and name indicated exactly that; a paparazzi... and the typical reputation of Ponyville is that none of us are sophisticated. This was a chance to see Rarity's shaky friends, photograph us, and make an article about her... a true paparazzi scum.

I had his stupid face, I had his stupid name, and I had his stupid fate planned out. I knew what I was going to do, but I had yet to decide when. Two reasons: I wondered if killing him right there was the best choice, or if it was easier to kill him later in secret. Reason two, was because what I said about it being easier said than done was hitting me hard. I felt myself shaking, anticipating the moment of truth.

I hid the notebook in plain sight, having stashed it into a book jacket to hide the cover, and wore my cap from the Mare Do Well incident. I looked exactly like a reporter, nothing suspicious about me scribbling things down. I just had to make sure nopony saw what I wrote. That, combined with my shaking kneecaps made me realize how stupid it was to bring the notebook with me.

It was the time I dreaded. Blueblood was accidental, Blackhoof was a test, this was an intentional murder. There would be no guilt about manslaughter. It was full-blown, murderer’s guilt this time, and if I couldn't ride it out, that was it.

I was oblivious to the world around me. Snap-trap introduced himself, met the others, and was already ushering us into Rarity's boutique. I slumped after them, clamping the book shut with the pen inside. Entering the boutique, I actually processed his voice.

“I still can't get over your cultural tastes, Rarity. It's so classical. It's nice, but out-of-date with The Archive. We'll have to photograph elsewhere, dear,” he said in a prissy accent that made me cringe with every word.

Rarity seemed to cringe as well, but didn't retort. “Alright, wherever you see fit. My lineup truly doesn't match the classical theme of my shop,” she chortled awkwardly.

The others frowned on the scene, obviously sharing my disagreement with the entire scenario. Sighing, I tucked the notebook under my arm, and decided to wait. Killing, no matter how much I wanted to shut him up, was out of the question for the moment.

The rest of the day, my friends were the models behind each dress on Rarity's request while Snap-trap kept a light-crew on their toes at all times. Rarity and the others were caught up listening to directions for each photo, but I saw it all. The snobby attitude, the grin he hid at all times, and his sloppy manners. He was dressed up like a Canterlot pony, but had worse manners than, no offence, the Apple Family. How did Rarity hook up with this... thing? It must have been for his role in The Archive.

Every so often, he'd take a photo regardless of somepony being in front of the camera or not. It seemed, to me at least, that he was taking photos of the way my friends acted off-camera, and if that's the case, suspicion confirmed, target acquired. The day itself was long and hard for me, but I stayed by. I thought that growing to hate this guy more would help with the eventual murder.

When all was said and done, he and Rarity went into the boutique to 'discuss things,' but his tone disregarded the notion of physical activity or anything pleasant... I knew it was going to be bad, but I shut it out to not seem like a snooping creep in front of the others. We sat outside, the girls putting their dresses away, the light-crew packing up their lights, and me, the second bastard of the pack. I didn't partake in any discussion, opting to remind myself of what I'm about to do.

Murder.

No matter how many times I say the word, it never gets easier. The weight of the word seems to increase whenever I do, and it reminded me how precious life is. Twilight fought valiantly to protect her friends in the past, and her brother. So did the others. They fought to protect each other, and did regardless of what got in the way. Old, rude griffon friend? Send her along her way. Omnipotent prankster? Stash him in stone. Giant, rampaging me? Eenope! They jumped into action to protect them. So why was it so hard for me to do the same?

Maybe it was because they never intended to kill them, or maybe the threat was one that they didn't care if they did? No, that's stupid. They recognize the value of life, and that's why they protect them. They would never take it. Is it right of me to do this, even if it's to protect one pony? Who died and made me king, the one with the last say?

“GET OUT YOU LYING, MISERABLE EXCUSE FOR A BOYFRIEND!”

Whoever it was, he wanted me to work immediately. We all turned our heads towards the boutique to see Snap-trap exiting the boutique in a huff, Rarity chasing him out of her boutique. She had tears streaming down her eyes, an angry stare, and stomped her hoof.

I was stupid. Rarity was hurt because I didn't do my job. He did something, and she got hurt. At the time, I felt myself too overwhelmed by sadness to remember the killing, to notice Snap-trap leaving in his carriage, to notice my friends following me as I ran over to Rarity.

“Rarity! Are you alright? What happened?” I asked, fighting back the regret I felt.

She sniffled, rubbing her eyes. Her mascara was running, but she didn't seem to care. She huffed, and backed into her shop, choking on her own words. I ran over to a table and snatched a tissue from a box before pausing, and just grabbed the whole box. I ran back over to Rarity and held them forward, which she took with magic and began wiping her eyes and nose. The others waited for her response, as did I.

“That jerk! He, he came in and told me that... he told me that I don't have the proper stuff for The Archive, and that he was cheating on me! He was cheating, on me! For some office bimbo, that's his boss!” she cried out, sobbing in the process.

I didn't know what to do, so I stepped forward to put an arm over her shoulder, but stopped.

This isn't the time for that, Spike. Cheer her up, I chastised myself.

Rarity didn't seem to care, and she wrapped her forelegs around me and pulled me in.

“Oh Spikey-wikey! I can't believe a pony like him could even exist! That... that uncouth, cheating, lying,” she said, stopping on each word. “That BASTARD!”

My pain was completely washed away after that line. I didn't feel regret, or guilt. I wasn't scared, or ashamed. I was angry. Each minute passed, and my rage grew like a growing flame... or maybe that was the tingling in my gut due to the notebook. Either way, Rarity sobbed and drowned her sorrows with us for the next few hours. We sat on her upper floor, drinking whatever the sweet liquid was, eating small snacks, pretty much having a cheer-up party, courtesy of Pinkie Pie. I took my time thinking, and grit my teeth whenever coming to the horrible scene from earlier.

Rarity's tear-soaked face with running makeup. The look of absolute depression. The look of failure. That pissed me off. I screwed up, and Rarity was suffering. I stood up and wiped off a few crumbs before turning towards the door.

“Spike, where are you going?” Twilight asked.

Looking back, I saw the whole group staring at me, plus one Sweetie Belle. I had to think of something quickly.

“Ah, I'm going back to the library for a second. Forgot something there, mom,” I responded, stepping through the door.

As I closed the door, I heard a small commotion inside Rarity's bedroom.

“Mom?”

“What did 'e say?”

“Have you adopted the dear?”

I smiled, feeling genuinely happy about that. I remembered something from long ago.

“Spike, wake up wake up it's Winter Wrap Up Day!”

“Mommy...?”

“Winter Wrap Up!”

“... you're not mommy.”

I frowned, chuckling at the memory. You're the greatest 'mommy' ever, Twi. I'm so glad you're in my life. I smiled, stepping out of the boutique. As soon as I did, I stopped basking in the light of the street lamp. I looked up at it, spotting a flew flies mindlessly buzz around. I ran all the way back to the library, non-stop through the darkened streets. I burst through the front door and stood in the dimly lit library's first floor. Now, lets see how well your protection works.

I sat back down in the chair where I wrote my first name. I spat out the notebook, and stared at the cover again.

DEATH NOTE.

I shivered once more... but it was noticeably less than last time. It's not just a notebook. It's the Death Note. It kills others as if it were a simple thing. The pony whose name is written in this notebook shall die. You have forty seconds to specify a death or the pony will simply die of a heart attack. If the death is specified, you have six minutes and forty seconds to write the details. I killed Blueblood by specifying 'accident.' I detailed it by having him slip in the shower. I killed Blackhoof with the standard death.

Now it's time for an accident.

I opened the notebook, and looked at the page with Blueblood and Blackhoof's name. Blackhoof's facial expression as he died... it was horrible. No heart attacks. Something simple. Rarity was right... nopony deserved to die, nopony normal at least... but not even scum deserves a painful death. I grabbed the pen from the notebook and placed it in my claw, preparing to write below the other names. I felt my arms trembling, my knees following suit. My entire body was shaking in fear. It always does, never changing. I felt tears stinging my eyes while remembering the look of horror on Blackhoof's face. The realization and value of life the others cared for. The dreaded path I was taking by my own volition. I took a deep breath, sighing heavily.

“Forgive me, Twilight, for I am about to sin.”

I set pen to paper. I put his face into my mind, and started with the first hurdle, the thing that would seal his fate: the name.

SNAP-SHOT

Sighing, feeling a weight lifted as I crossed the point of no return, I focused on the name before remembering my timer. Next up: the death.

ACCIDENT

My whole body tensed up while I condemned a pony to death. I felt myself wanting to turn back, hoping there was a way to stop this. Destroying it? No, it can kill like that, there is no way. I don't want to do this, but he hurt Rarity. It's to protect her, and to serve justice because he broke no law.

“I will be here with you, no matter what.” Owlowiscious and Twilight rescued me from the cave. “When you’re sick in bed, I’ll be making you soup.” Twilight saved me when I fell into Froggy Bottom Bog. “When you’re carrying your bride onto your chariot, I’ll be there to congratulate you.” She worked hard to save me when I was being greedy and destroying her home. “Even if Equestria hates you as an adult-” Several tears dripped down my face as I remembered how she saved me from the dragons. “I will be there to protect you... at any cost.”

“On his way back to Las Pegasus, Snap-shot winds up stopping for a break before being hit by a falling rock near the mountains. He falls off a cliff and his body is never found, leaving his fate unknown to Equestria,” I read while writing.

I closed the pen, and clamped it in the Death Note's pages before running upstairs and tossing the book under my mattress. I exhaled, feeling the guilt temporarily wash over before I remembered Twilight's words.

“I am so sorry, but somepony has to do this,” I said, looking out towards the moon.

I ran back to the Carousal Boutique to check on Rarity.

The next morning, I woke up in my bed, said good morning to Twilight, and ran downstairs. I did the usual, preparing her a delicious breakfast, as well as myself, and as I walked to the front door, I opened it just as Derpy delivered our newspaper. I waved, picked up the Equestria Daily, and unrolled it, locking my eyes on the front page.

“PHOTOGRAPHER FOR LAS PEGASUS MAGAZINE 'THE ARCHIVE' GOES MISSING.”

I almost smiled sadly at it, almost burst into tears from the guilt as well before I closed the door, and sighed. I stood on the front mat, pondering before tossing the newspaper on a nearby table. Justice has been served. Do your worst, Death Note. I'm Rarity's protector, and Twilight is mine. I will protect her at any cost!

That moment, my height grew an extra centimetre, and my spines sharpened. I was preparing for the ensuing pain, without even knowing it.

Comments

[Thunderscratch]

Use the Death Note wisely spike or else someone will notice

[FlowerGirl3765]

Hehe. I'm first. NAILED IT!!! Cool story, bro. I approve.

Edit: D: I'm not first.

[Arby]

1122854 ALMOST first. Somebody beat you to it.

[Axel Nyan]

I'm sorry, but the moment I read the line about Spike heading back to the library, Youtube's playlist put this on:

[Arby]

1123231 It actually does fit, like "This is my Destiny. Yep."

When I started writing this theme, the theme of the Death Note films, "Heart Attack," started playing.

[Axel Nyan]

1123278 Nice. And it ended just as Spike said, "I'm so sorry, but somepony has to do this."

[Arby]

1123300 I was listening to the Death Note movie OST itself, actually. When I was writing the scene where he was crying in Twilight's embrace, this played:

[Drawdex]

I love Death Note for its inner convictions and hard philosophy, and of course extremely smart ways to use it.

I hope Spike knows how to last in his mission to keep Rarity safe, and even Sweetie Bell for that matter.

I see him becoming smarter and more meticulous with his use of the Death Note and ways to hide it.

Faved and liked

[Hungrybear]

Very well written. I would love to see somepony lead an investigation should Celestia or somepony else become suspicious by noticing all the ponies who died had some affiliation with rarity at some point in their life. Just food for thought. Don't usually get genuine fics like this that base themselves off other works without being a complete copy paste plot, so you got my like. Please do continue this, it has great potential.

[Mr 0]

I like what you did with the greed growth instead of getting more stuff he is trying to keep what's "his" his.