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Death's Suicide
Trigger Warning: Suicide
The first clue Spike noticed was that the Zebra didn’t have a heartbeat. He disguised his lack of a heart quite well, shaking and breathing to a tune that could be confused for a heartbeat, but Spike could tell better.
He stalked the Zebra, casually moving around the village bazaar.
The villagers paid Spike no mind. From their perspective, all they could see was an ordinary Zebra. A few did call out to him, asking his name and whatnot, but Spike dismissed them quickly and went on his way. He knew it was rude behavior in their culture, and under any other circumstance he was willing to put up a charade of small talk in order to get information. But if his hunch was correct, the zebra without a heartbeat was exactly who he was looking for.
Spike had known dignitaries and even little fillies harder to track than the old zebra. It was almost as if the zebra wanted Spike to follow him.
He had very strange stripes for a zebra. They were a dark black as opposed to the gray of most of his kind. From far away they looked like normal stripes, but the closer Spike got, the more he noticed small patterns of arrows pointing down in the stripes. Where a pony would have a cutie mark, his stripes became more pronounced, loudly displaying streams of downward arrows curving off and around into nowhere.
The sky above started drizzling a dull rain upon the entire village. It was less rain, and more the soft caress of moisture in an otherwise arid region.
The Zebra he was tailing paid no heed to the rain, lingering around to look at wares. At long last, the Zebra finished whatever shopping it was he needed and started walking back. However, he didn’t have a bag or anything, and he held nothing in his mouth for his return to his hut.
Spike waited a few minutes, then took a deep breath and gave the door a knock.
“Come inside,” said a grim, grizzled voice from inside the hut.
Spike obeyed, opening the door and trotting inside.
The hut was sparse, even for Zebra standards. There was practically nothing inside except for a meager bed, some cooking supplies including a kitchen knife, and some food. There were no books on the walls or decorations of any kind. Just the brown roof of the hut, which was leaking water in places because of the rain.
“What can I do for you, Drake?”
A few drops of water fell from the ceiling.
“What did you call me?” Spike asked cautiously.
The whites of the Zebra’s eyes turned black.
“Drake,” said the Zebra. “You have been seeking me for some time.”
Spike pulled off the ring he had been wearing, the illusion magic dissipating the zebra form, and leaving behind his normal self.
“Spike, age one hundred and ten, friends of the Bearers of the pieces of Harmony, correct?”
Spike sat down on his haunches, digesting this information. “They’re the Elements of Harmony, but yes, that’s… me.”
“Pieces—elements,” he waved a hoof. “I find it ironic that Harmony of all Roles shattered into six pieces while the other five Roles of Equestria—even chaos—stayed intact.”
“A—Are you a Bearer then?” said Spike.
The Zebra’s unsettling eyes reverted back to white. “I feel an incredible sense of trust in you Drake, what is your name?”
“Uhh… Spike, I am the faithful servant of Harmony’s Bearer of Magic.”
The Zebra bowed low, a few drops from the ceiling falling into his mane. “My name is Dread, the Bearer of Death.”
Spike had imagined this moment for years, ever since Fluttershy’s suicide and its aftermath. He was going to punch death right in the face for what he had failed to do. Death deserved to be hit, hurt, maimed, burned and every foul feeling under Celestia’s sun. But standing there, his eyes staring into Death’s, he didn’t have that desire at all anymore. It would be like punching a sad old stallion.
Dread stared at Spike’s claws. “Oh dear, you seem to have gotten your claws dirty pretending to walk on all fours like that. Let me help you.”
Spike’s mind continued racing as the zebra got a bowl of water and started dipping Spike’s own claws in them. Spike wanted to stretch his claws out and slash Death across the face, let him feel just a tiny bit of the suffering Equestria had been going through—that he was going through.
Spike eyed his clean claws. It had been months since he had been able to see them normally without the illusion magic, and without mud caked in. It was nice to have claws again.
Several drops of water fell from the ceiling, and Spike’s voice finally came back. “Why did you stop doing your job?”
“I never stopped, Spike. I continue to fulfill my role as bearer of Death for Equestria.”
Anger that had somehow been fettered inside started to boil up in his throat. “NO! You haven’t. Suicide has been only one way to die in Equestria for the last thirty years. That’s wrong! That’s unnatural! And It’s been TERRIBLE!”
“Ah yes. That probably would take a bit of getting used to. But I feel like my method is more ethical than what the last Bearer of Death did.”
“No, it isn’t. This has hurt Equestria in ways you can’t imagine!”
“Spike, choosing death is the best way to go. I dream all day every day of choosing it myself. Unfortunately, that avenue is as of this moment unavailable. I have my duties. Thirty years ago the last Bearer of Death committed suicide right in front of me, passing on her power to me. I long to do the same.”
Several drops fell from the ceiling and Dread shook his head. “The best gift I can give for Equestria is my own greatest desire. Nopony dies, unless they want to. And I will gladly help them pass on after that.”
Spike sat, mortified at the insane Zebra before him. “That—that’s wrong!”
From somewhere in Spike’s chest a warm feeling welled up inside of him, threatening to bring tears to his eyes, but he would not in a million years let Death see that.
“And why is that?” said Dread.
Spike gulped, anger taking over the sadness within. “You ruined us. Everything was happy in Equestria. It was great. Yeah… ponies died sometimes. But that’s life. That’s natural. Twenty-seven years ago we finally realized that everypony had stopped dying. And then some ponies killed themselves, and they were the only ones that died.
“There was no way for anyone to die of ‘natural causes’ anymore. Nopony gets deathly ill, nopony gets old and dies. We—the whole planet—just keep going.
A drop fell from the ceiling, landing on Spike’s muzzle.
“But not everyone can do that. Some have been really looking forward to dying for a long time. And now the only way they can go is suicide.”
Dread said nothing and Spike’s gaze landed on the floor.
“We tried to help suicidal ponies, we really did. But what could we do? They were already a century old. They had wanted to die years ago. It would have been natural for them to die before, but now… they have to actively do it themselves. That—THAT’S WRONG!”
The drizzle outside started to grow stronger, and more drops started falling from the ceiling.
“I’m sorry, Spike. I didn’t have the heart to drag the unwilling into eternal non-existence. And it’s difficult for me to understand the difference between those that want to die, and those that want to live. It’s better to let the living live, until they choose not to.”
“No it isn’t! Fluttershy shouldn’t have needed to kill herself!” Spike said, a spark of fire coming out of his mouth. “She—she shouldn’t have gone like that. She had led an extremely full life, and she should’ve died years before with dignity without having to resort to— to—
“And because of her, Discord went shortly after that. We didn’t even know about other Bearers until he died and Pinkie Pie was given the Role of Chaos. My friends are being forced to kill themselves, and those that want to live are left behind to pick up the pieces. YOU pushed them up against a wall and the only way out was suicide.”
A steady stream of water trickled in through the hut of the ceiling, leaving Spike sitting on the ground in a small puddle.
“If you bore the role of Death, what would you do instead, Spike?”
Spike tilted his head. “I–I would uhh…”
“Would you kill those that wish to live? Would you rob a family of their mother? Or a father their son? That’s what it used to be like, Spike. Is not choice the greatest gift Death can give to the ponies of Equestria?”
“I— I don’t… no. No. There has to be some better way,” said Spike.
“What really brought you here, Spike? And why are you not with your friends? A lone dragon, raised by ponies, seeking out a Bearer? That’s not how things work in Equestria. Relationships, particularly friendships, are magic. It’s unwise to be alone.”
“I— didn’t want to— I…” Spike sputtered. A spark of flame caught fire in the back of his throat and he started coughing.
Dread sat on the floor of his hut, waiting for Spike to say something.
Spike sat silent for a long time, several sad thoughts brushing up against his insides.
Dread’s eyes switched to black, piercing into Spike and what felt like everything beyond. His eyes reverted and Dread asked a question. “Do you want to die, Spike?”
Spike brought his legs closer to his chest and rested his head on his knees.
“I don’t want to commit suicide… but I would like to die.”
“You’re so young though, Spike. Dragons live to be thousands of years old. If it weren’t for their aggressive fighting toward each other, I doubt they would have even noticed how I altered death at all.”
“I blame you for this. If you hadn’t have gotten rid of death, I wouldn’t have even started thinking about life this way,” Spike said, his voice unsteady. “I suppose I just want… to go when it’s my time. I don’t want to force it. The way the world is now, it’s like it’s encouraging me to choose to go anytime I want. I can’t do that… I need to live for Twilight. And for the rest of my friends.”
“If you live for your friends, why aren’t they with you?”
Spike buried his head in his claws, looking more and more like a dragon trying to crawl back into an egg.
“I’m scared I won’t make it that far,” he opened his eyes and looked down at his own long sharp claws. “Temptation literally grows out of me. I’m avoiding friends so that if I do give in to temptation, it won’t hurt them as much. It’s easier to get through the death of a friend if you haven’t talked to them in a while, right?”
“I suppose, but death does strange things to ponies, Spike. It’s never what you would expect.”
“You need to bring back the old way of Death,” said Spike, looking into his eyes. “I—I need to know there’ll be an end someday. I—I don’t want to think about having to do it myself.”
The rain outside calmed back into a drizzle, leaving a few swift drops to fall from the ceiling.
“Your way doesn’t work for Equestria,” said Spike. “Friendship is magic. Ponies choosing when they die leaves very sad ponies behind asking questions like: ‘Why couldn’t I save them?’ ‘What could I have done better?’ ‘Why did they leave me?’ The very nature of Equestrian magic doesn’t work with what you’re doing, it leaves painful holes. And those that want to die, but have too many relationships, can't do so easily. It's more painful for them to be alive, but their absence would cause more pain if they left. There's no happy ending for them anymore. They can only endure forever without hope of an end.”
The rain died down, and the hut became completely silent except for the beating of Spike's own heart.
“Do you wish to change Death?” asked the old Zebra.
“Yes! Of course I do!”
“How badly? What would you sacrifice to make this change?”
“I—“ Spike flinched and nearly fell backward. “Are you going to kill me?”
“Quite the opposite, Spike. I hate my own existence with every fiber of my being. But I still know that choice is important above all. I grant you a choice, Spike. Take my Role. Fix these so-called problems.”
Dread, the Bearer of Death, held out a hoof to Spike.
Spike stared at it, horrified. “I couldn’t do that, I— I can’t.”
“You came in here ready for a battle, Spike. I concede defeat. You will probably make a better Death than I. Despite not wanting to, you choose to live. You have ideas of how to make the Role better. And most importantly, you’re not me.”
At that moment, Spike realized how old the Zebra was before him. He had only been a bearer for thirty years, but he spoke as if he had lived thousands. He was also incredibly selfish. The previous Bearer of Death had lasted for so much longer, and suddenly this one could only last thirty? But it had been thirty very painful years. And it would continue to be painful for as long as Dread was the Bearer of Death. Fluttershy could have died better, and Ponyville wouldn't have become the fragile groups of immortals that choose to live.
Water continued to drip down. After several minutes, Spike unfurled out of himself and simply nodded to Dread.
Dread looked at Spike with complete calm and serenity. “I have long imagined this day, thank you Bearer.”
Before Spike could react, Dread grabbed the kitchen knife from behind him and plunged it inside himself. He watched in horror as the intricate arrows that made up Dread’s stripes congealed into a single mass that gathered around his chest.
It wasn’t black. It was more like void. Dread hadn’t been the bearer of death, but the bearer of absence itself.
Dread’s body collapsed onto the floor of his hut. The whirling mass of dark void floated and gathered every last scrap of itself from the body of Dread. The void shot itself towards Spike’s own heart, replacing it completely. He could hear as his own heartbeat—a constant companion for over a century—disappeared.
The void altered his very scales, causing each and every one to become little arrows that pointed down. His purple scales darkened to a near black.
Spike blinked, but instead of his eyelids shutting, the entire world changed colors. Reds and greens disappeared completely, replaced by colors that could only be described as beyond violet, seeing into a realm that looked familiar and strange at the same time.
He could somehow see the entire planet of Equestria beneath and around him, a few faint lights around the world were lit. Directly in front of him, was a massive light floating above the body of Dread.
“Breathe fire on me, Spike.”
Spike hesitated, but a feeling inside him welled up and a black void of flame erupted from his throat, enveloping the ghost of the zebra.
The ghost was sucked feet first into the void. Dread smiled one last time, a look of serenity on his muzzle. “Thank you, Bearer of Death.”
The flame forced the ghost to cease to exist entirely, and then the flame of oblivion moved on, and the faint lights across the planet also disappeared. Spike could feel as the flame soared across the land, eventually reaching back to himself and congealing back to the hole in his heart.
He knew how the void was set to behave. It only went after suicides right now. But he could change that. He could now alter death itself. Death was no longer captive to it’s insane Bearer. Spike could fix this. At least, that’s what he hoped he could do.
And it was at that moment that Spike realized that he had the duty to kill everyone. And the only end—the inevitable end—would be to kill himself and pass on the Role.
The first clue Spike noticed was that the Zebra didn’t have a heartbeat. He disguised his lack of a heart quite well, shaking and breathing to a tune that could be confused for a heartbeat, but Spike could tell better.
He stalked the Zebra, casually moving around the village bazaar.
The villagers paid Spike no mind. From their perspective, all they could see was an ordinary Zebra. A few did call out to him, asking his name and whatnot, but Spike dismissed them quickly and went on his way. He knew it was rude behavior in their culture, and under any other circumstance he was willing to put up a charade of small talk in order to get information. But if his hunch was correct, the zebra without a heartbeat was exactly who he was looking for.
Spike had known dignitaries and even little fillies harder to track than the old zebra. It was almost as if the zebra wanted Spike to follow him.
He had very strange stripes for a zebra. They were a dark black as opposed to the gray of most of his kind. From far away they looked like normal stripes, but the closer Spike got, the more he noticed small patterns of arrows pointing down in the stripes. Where a pony would have a cutie mark, his stripes became more pronounced, loudly displaying streams of downward arrows curving off and around into nowhere.
The sky above started drizzling a dull rain upon the entire village. It was less rain, and more the soft caress of moisture in an otherwise arid region.
The Zebra he was tailing paid no heed to the rain, lingering around to look at wares. At long last, the Zebra finished whatever shopping it was he needed and started walking back. However, he didn’t have a bag or anything, and he held nothing in his mouth for his return to his hut.
Spike waited a few minutes, then took a deep breath and gave the door a knock.
“Come inside,” said a grim, grizzled voice from inside the hut.
Spike obeyed, opening the door and trotting inside.
The hut was sparse, even for Zebra standards. There was practically nothing inside except for a meager bed, some cooking supplies including a kitchen knife, and some food. There were no books on the walls or decorations of any kind. Just the brown roof of the hut, which was leaking water in places because of the rain.
“What can I do for you, Drake?”
A few drops of water fell from the ceiling.
“What did you call me?” Spike asked cautiously.
The whites of the Zebra’s eyes turned black.
“Drake,” said the Zebra. “You have been seeking me for some time.”
Spike pulled off the ring he had been wearing, the illusion magic dissipating the zebra form, and leaving behind his normal self.
“Spike, age one hundred and ten, friends of the Bearers of the pieces of Harmony, correct?”
Spike sat down on his haunches, digesting this information. “They’re the Elements of Harmony, but yes, that’s… me.”
“Pieces—elements,” he waved a hoof. “I find it ironic that Harmony of all Roles shattered into six pieces while the other five Roles of Equestria—even chaos—stayed intact.”
“A—Are you a Bearer then?” said Spike.
The Zebra’s unsettling eyes reverted back to white. “I feel an incredible sense of trust in you Drake, what is your name?”
“Uhh… Spike, I am the faithful servant of Harmony’s Bearer of Magic.”
The Zebra bowed low, a few drops from the ceiling falling into his mane. “My name is Dread, the Bearer of Death.”
Spike had imagined this moment for years, ever since Fluttershy’s suicide and its aftermath. He was going to punch death right in the face for what he had failed to do. Death deserved to be hit, hurt, maimed, burned and every foul feeling under Celestia’s sun. But standing there, his eyes staring into Death’s, he didn’t have that desire at all anymore. It would be like punching a sad old stallion.
Dread stared at Spike’s claws. “Oh dear, you seem to have gotten your claws dirty pretending to walk on all fours like that. Let me help you.”
Spike’s mind continued racing as the zebra got a bowl of water and started dipping Spike’s own claws in them. Spike wanted to stretch his claws out and slash Death across the face, let him feel just a tiny bit of the suffering Equestria had been going through—that he was going through.
Spike eyed his clean claws. It had been months since he had been able to see them normally without the illusion magic, and without mud caked in. It was nice to have claws again.
Several drops of water fell from the ceiling, and Spike’s voice finally came back. “Why did you stop doing your job?”
“I never stopped, Spike. I continue to fulfill my role as bearer of Death for Equestria.”
Anger that had somehow been fettered inside started to boil up in his throat. “NO! You haven’t. Suicide has been only one way to die in Equestria for the last thirty years. That’s wrong! That’s unnatural! And It’s been TERRIBLE!”
“Ah yes. That probably would take a bit of getting used to. But I feel like my method is more ethical than what the last Bearer of Death did.”
“No, it isn’t. This has hurt Equestria in ways you can’t imagine!”
“Spike, choosing death is the best way to go. I dream all day every day of choosing it myself. Unfortunately, that avenue is as of this moment unavailable. I have my duties. Thirty years ago the last Bearer of Death committed suicide right in front of me, passing on her power to me. I long to do the same.”
Several drops fell from the ceiling and Dread shook his head. “The best gift I can give for Equestria is my own greatest desire. Nopony dies, unless they want to. And I will gladly help them pass on after that.”
Spike sat, mortified at the insane Zebra before him. “That—that’s wrong!”
From somewhere in Spike’s chest a warm feeling welled up inside of him, threatening to bring tears to his eyes, but he would not in a million years let Death see that.
“And why is that?” said Dread.
Spike gulped, anger taking over the sadness within. “You ruined us. Everything was happy in Equestria. It was great. Yeah… ponies died sometimes. But that’s life. That’s natural. Twenty-seven years ago we finally realized that everypony had stopped dying. And then some ponies killed themselves, and they were the only ones that died.
“There was no way for anyone to die of ‘natural causes’ anymore. Nopony gets deathly ill, nopony gets old and dies. We—the whole planet—just keep going.
A drop fell from the ceiling, landing on Spike’s muzzle.
“But not everyone can do that. Some have been really looking forward to dying for a long time. And now the only way they can go is suicide.”
Dread said nothing and Spike’s gaze landed on the floor.
“We tried to help suicidal ponies, we really did. But what could we do? They were already a century old. They had wanted to die years ago. It would have been natural for them to die before, but now… they have to actively do it themselves. That—THAT’S WRONG!”
The drizzle outside started to grow stronger, and more drops started falling from the ceiling.
“I’m sorry, Spike. I didn’t have the heart to drag the unwilling into eternal non-existence. And it’s difficult for me to understand the difference between those that want to die, and those that want to live. It’s better to let the living live, until they choose not to.”
“No it isn’t! Fluttershy shouldn’t have needed to kill herself!” Spike said, a spark of fire coming out of his mouth. “She—she shouldn’t have gone like that. She had led an extremely full life, and she should’ve died years before with dignity without having to resort to— to—
“And because of her, Discord went shortly after that. We didn’t even know about other Bearers until he died and Pinkie Pie was given the Role of Chaos. My friends are being forced to kill themselves, and those that want to live are left behind to pick up the pieces. YOU pushed them up against a wall and the only way out was suicide.”
A steady stream of water trickled in through the hut of the ceiling, leaving Spike sitting on the ground in a small puddle.
“If you bore the role of Death, what would you do instead, Spike?”
Spike tilted his head. “I–I would uhh…”
“Would you kill those that wish to live? Would you rob a family of their mother? Or a father their son? That’s what it used to be like, Spike. Is not choice the greatest gift Death can give to the ponies of Equestria?”
“I— I don’t… no. No. There has to be some better way,” said Spike.
“What really brought you here, Spike? And why are you not with your friends? A lone dragon, raised by ponies, seeking out a Bearer? That’s not how things work in Equestria. Relationships, particularly friendships, are magic. It’s unwise to be alone.”
“I— didn’t want to— I…” Spike sputtered. A spark of flame caught fire in the back of his throat and he started coughing.
Dread sat on the floor of his hut, waiting for Spike to say something.
Spike sat silent for a long time, several sad thoughts brushing up against his insides.
Dread’s eyes switched to black, piercing into Spike and what felt like everything beyond. His eyes reverted and Dread asked a question. “Do you want to die, Spike?”
Spike brought his legs closer to his chest and rested his head on his knees.
“I don’t want to commit suicide… but I would like to die.”
“You’re so young though, Spike. Dragons live to be thousands of years old. If it weren’t for their aggressive fighting toward each other, I doubt they would have even noticed how I altered death at all.”
“I blame you for this. If you hadn’t have gotten rid of death, I wouldn’t have even started thinking about life this way,” Spike said, his voice unsteady. “I suppose I just want… to go when it’s my time. I don’t want to force it. The way the world is now, it’s like it’s encouraging me to choose to go anytime I want. I can’t do that… I need to live for Twilight. And for the rest of my friends.”
“If you live for your friends, why aren’t they with you?”
Spike buried his head in his claws, looking more and more like a dragon trying to crawl back into an egg.
“I’m scared I won’t make it that far,” he opened his eyes and looked down at his own long sharp claws. “Temptation literally grows out of me. I’m avoiding friends so that if I do give in to temptation, it won’t hurt them as much. It’s easier to get through the death of a friend if you haven’t talked to them in a while, right?”
“I suppose, but death does strange things to ponies, Spike. It’s never what you would expect.”
“You need to bring back the old way of Death,” said Spike, looking into his eyes. “I—I need to know there’ll be an end someday. I—I don’t want to think about having to do it myself.”
The rain outside calmed back into a drizzle, leaving a few swift drops to fall from the ceiling.
“Your way doesn’t work for Equestria,” said Spike. “Friendship is magic. Ponies choosing when they die leaves very sad ponies behind asking questions like: ‘Why couldn’t I save them?’ ‘What could I have done better?’ ‘Why did they leave me?’ The very nature of Equestrian magic doesn’t work with what you’re doing, it leaves painful holes. And those that want to die, but have too many relationships, can't do so easily. It's more painful for them to be alive, but their absence would cause more pain if they left. There's no happy ending for them anymore. They can only endure forever without hope of an end.”
The rain died down, and the hut became completely silent except for the beating of Spike's own heart.
“Do you wish to change Death?” asked the old Zebra.
“Yes! Of course I do!”
“How badly? What would you sacrifice to make this change?”
“I—“ Spike flinched and nearly fell backward. “Are you going to kill me?”
“Quite the opposite, Spike. I hate my own existence with every fiber of my being. But I still know that choice is important above all. I grant you a choice, Spike. Take my Role. Fix these so-called problems.”
Dread, the Bearer of Death, held out a hoof to Spike.
Spike stared at it, horrified. “I couldn’t do that, I— I can’t.”
“You came in here ready for a battle, Spike. I concede defeat. You will probably make a better Death than I. Despite not wanting to, you choose to live. You have ideas of how to make the Role better. And most importantly, you’re not me.”
At that moment, Spike realized how old the Zebra was before him. He had only been a bearer for thirty years, but he spoke as if he had lived thousands. He was also incredibly selfish. The previous Bearer of Death had lasted for so much longer, and suddenly this one could only last thirty? But it had been thirty very painful years. And it would continue to be painful for as long as Dread was the Bearer of Death. Fluttershy could have died better, and Ponyville wouldn't have become the fragile groups of immortals that choose to live.
Water continued to drip down. After several minutes, Spike unfurled out of himself and simply nodded to Dread.
Dread looked at Spike with complete calm and serenity. “I have long imagined this day, thank you Bearer.”
Before Spike could react, Dread grabbed the kitchen knife from behind him and plunged it inside himself. He watched in horror as the intricate arrows that made up Dread’s stripes congealed into a single mass that gathered around his chest.
It wasn’t black. It was more like void. Dread hadn’t been the bearer of death, but the bearer of absence itself.
Dread’s body collapsed onto the floor of his hut. The whirling mass of dark void floated and gathered every last scrap of itself from the body of Dread. The void shot itself towards Spike’s own heart, replacing it completely. He could hear as his own heartbeat—a constant companion for over a century—disappeared.
The void altered his very scales, causing each and every one to become little arrows that pointed down. His purple scales darkened to a near black.
Spike blinked, but instead of his eyelids shutting, the entire world changed colors. Reds and greens disappeared completely, replaced by colors that could only be described as beyond violet, seeing into a realm that looked familiar and strange at the same time.
He could somehow see the entire planet of Equestria beneath and around him, a few faint lights around the world were lit. Directly in front of him, was a massive light floating above the body of Dread.
“Breathe fire on me, Spike.”
Spike hesitated, but a feeling inside him welled up and a black void of flame erupted from his throat, enveloping the ghost of the zebra.
The ghost was sucked feet first into the void. Dread smiled one last time, a look of serenity on his muzzle. “Thank you, Bearer of Death.”
The flame forced the ghost to cease to exist entirely, and then the flame of oblivion moved on, and the faint lights across the planet also disappeared. Spike could feel as the flame soared across the land, eventually reaching back to himself and congealing back to the hole in his heart.
He knew how the void was set to behave. It only went after suicides right now. But he could change that. He could now alter death itself. Death was no longer captive to it’s insane Bearer. Spike could fix this. At least, that’s what he hoped he could do.
And it was at that moment that Spike realized that he had the duty to kill everyone. And the only end—the inevitable end—would be to kill himself and pass on the Role.
Pics
Genre: Holy crap, DARK
Thoughts: This is so much the opposite of the tone of the last few stories I read that I need a minute.
Woo.
There's also a really critical missing word typo: "has been only one" needs to be "has been the only one" otherwise I don't know what's going on here.
What a great use of the prompt art imagery in the death-bearer's coat. Major props for that.
There's a lot of world building caught up in the central conversation. E.g., the nature of harmony and its magic. What a great but heavy moral quandary for these characters to ruminate on. It's ambitious as heck. The resolution of it feels mostly satisfying, too, although I have some specific nitpicks. Chief among them is that Rarity never gets mentioned once. Now whether or not outright Sparity is your thing, I have to think it would at least weigh on Spike's decisions one way or another. The presence of Fluttershy at the center of his concerns seems to occupy the space that might more naturally go to Rarity, and there's no clear explanation for why. It's a big oversight IMO considering the story's otherwise strong ability to present good world building.
The other big quibble here is, why does Spike want to die so badly? I feel like it's presented without much explanation, and the story turns down a pretty overt opportunity to make itself clearer on that point.
The central struggle of an uneasy Death is quite good, though.
Tier: Strong
Thoughts: This is so much the opposite of the tone of the last few stories I read that I need a minute.
Woo.
There's also a really critical missing word typo: "has been only one" needs to be "has been the only one" otherwise I don't know what's going on here.
What a great use of the prompt art imagery in the death-bearer's coat. Major props for that.
There's a lot of world building caught up in the central conversation. E.g., the nature of harmony and its magic. What a great but heavy moral quandary for these characters to ruminate on. It's ambitious as heck. The resolution of it feels mostly satisfying, too, although I have some specific nitpicks. Chief among them is that Rarity never gets mentioned once. Now whether or not outright Sparity is your thing, I have to think it would at least weigh on Spike's decisions one way or another. The presence of Fluttershy at the center of his concerns seems to occupy the space that might more naturally go to Rarity, and there's no clear explanation for why. It's a big oversight IMO considering the story's otherwise strong ability to present good world building.
The other big quibble here is, why does Spike want to die so badly? I feel like it's presented without much explanation, and the story turns down a pretty overt opportunity to make itself clearer on that point.
The central struggle of an uneasy Death is quite good, though.
Tier: Strong
This was a nice twist on a fairly standard subject. The idea of Death passing on its mantle by dying is something I've seen before, but I liked the twists this put on it. The idea of Death not wanting to do his job the way previous Deaths did, and doing it in a new way, is a good one, and in particular this Death's choice of how to deal with death was interesting - as was Spike's motivation for seeking him out, despite this death's supposed mercy.
This story has a great hook and does an excellent job of drawing the reader into the story.
I do have to say that I agree that Spike's desire to die seems kind of weird, and I think it might be good to develop it a bit more. Likewise, I think understanding a bit better about Fluttershy's desire to die might help.
My biggest problem, however, is that the very end of this story feels a bit lackluster. The final two paragraphs aren't as strong as they could be.
I think Spike's note about the "insane Bearer" should go up before he fully gains the power, and then when the power flows into him, he should suddenly realize just what he's been asking for. Spike previously thought of it as him allowing people to die, but in actuality, he is basically choosing how people die. That's a huge moral difference, and I think you meant for it to be disturbing to him - but the story doesn't really do it justice. I think it should be clearer just how awful this really is, as it strikes me from the story that it isn't what Spike wants at all.
A second thing - this story seems to go into a lot about how awful suicide is, and it seems to me like Spike might be awfully tempted to make it so that you can't kill yourself, to prevent further tragedies like Fluttershy. While he might not have thought about that before - again, because before, to him, death was a natural thing - I suspect when he realizes that death is within his grasp, that he can arbitrarily define how people are allowed to die... I suspect that the temptation would be strong for him to try and prevent tragedy, just as the previous bearer of Death did by making suicide the only way out.
Thirdly, I don't think you really scored with the irony of Spike's realization that the only way for him to die now is to commit suicide. I think that's a neat idea, but I don't really feel like the ending did that justice, either. That his only way out now is precisely what he deeply hates is one of those deliciously terrible ironies that I think can twist people up nicely.
I think that this is a story with a very strong concept that doesn't stick the landing.
This story has a great hook and does an excellent job of drawing the reader into the story.
I do have to say that I agree that Spike's desire to die seems kind of weird, and I think it might be good to develop it a bit more. Likewise, I think understanding a bit better about Fluttershy's desire to die might help.
My biggest problem, however, is that the very end of this story feels a bit lackluster. The final two paragraphs aren't as strong as they could be.
I think Spike's note about the "insane Bearer" should go up before he fully gains the power, and then when the power flows into him, he should suddenly realize just what he's been asking for. Spike previously thought of it as him allowing people to die, but in actuality, he is basically choosing how people die. That's a huge moral difference, and I think you meant for it to be disturbing to him - but the story doesn't really do it justice. I think it should be clearer just how awful this really is, as it strikes me from the story that it isn't what Spike wants at all.
A second thing - this story seems to go into a lot about how awful suicide is, and it seems to me like Spike might be awfully tempted to make it so that you can't kill yourself, to prevent further tragedies like Fluttershy. While he might not have thought about that before - again, because before, to him, death was a natural thing - I suspect when he realizes that death is within his grasp, that he can arbitrarily define how people are allowed to die... I suspect that the temptation would be strong for him to try and prevent tragedy, just as the previous bearer of Death did by making suicide the only way out.
Thirdly, I don't think you really scored with the irony of Spike's realization that the only way for him to die now is to commit suicide. I think that's a neat idea, but I don't really feel like the ending did that justice, either. That his only way out now is precisely what he deeply hates is one of those deliciously terrible ironies that I think can twist people up nicely.
I think that this is a story with a very strong concept that doesn't stick the landing.
I'll echo TD's thought about missing the potential hammer blow of the corner Spike painted himself into. Otherwise, I think this is a fascinating take on the concept of death, and also a wider nudge at there being other fundamental avatars out in the world besides Harmony and Chaos. And six, no less, which is just delightful.
Oh boy, this was story isn't about rainbows and butterflies, definitely not.
Once again, I'll lazily agree with the others, both for the good points and the flaws.
I also want to add two things:
The first one, and the smallest, is that, while I was reading the story I was telling myself "Ok, that's interesting. The story is starting to ask some deep questions about the meaning of life and death" but unfortunately, the story ends before we reach something really deep.
The second one is the ending, especially the two last lines.
I mean 'No shit Sherlock', haven't Spike thought about what it would mean to become the Bearer of Death? It's like he became more stupid as time passes.
However, you took a risk with this story, author, and even if the execution felt sometimes a bit clumsy, I think it's something that needs to be mention. Moreover, the beginning was really engaging.
So it will be a mid tier for me.
Once again, I'll lazily agree with the others, both for the good points and the flaws.
I also want to add two things:
The first one, and the smallest, is that, while I was reading the story I was telling myself "Ok, that's interesting. The story is starting to ask some deep questions about the meaning of life and death" but unfortunately, the story ends before we reach something really deep.
The second one is the ending, especially the two last lines.
And it was at that moment that Spike realized that he had the duty to kill everyone. And the only end—the inevitable end—would be to kill himself and pass on the Role.
I mean 'No shit Sherlock', haven't Spike thought about what it would mean to become the Bearer of Death? It's like he became more stupid as time passes.
However, you took a risk with this story, author, and even if the execution felt sometimes a bit clumsy, I think it's something that needs to be mention. Moreover, the beginning was really engaging.
So it will be a mid tier for me.
The hook is brilliant as was already pointed out, and the concept of a bearer of death is interesting.
In the end though, the story didn't do much for me. Spike is too immature, and the problems presented don't feel like the actual problems ponies (or people for that matter) would have with immortality. E.g.:
That's just describing immature relationships IMO. If being alive would cause me more pain than it brought me joy, I'm certain all of my friends and family would understand if I were to commit suicide. This isn't really raising issues of immortality, but of euthanasia. I don't see why they would have such a problem with being in control of the time of their deaths.
I think there would be a lot to explore if all of ponykind were to become immortal at some point, but they would probably manifest later than 30 years from then, and I feel like none of them are even touched in this story.
In the end though, the story didn't do much for me. Spike is too immature, and the problems presented don't feel like the actual problems ponies (or people for that matter) would have with immortality. E.g.:
And those that want to die, but have too many relationships, can't do so easily. It's more painful for them to be alive, but their absence would cause more pain if they left. There's no happy ending for them anymore. They can only endure forever without hope of an end
That's just describing immature relationships IMO. If being alive would cause me more pain than it brought me joy, I'm certain all of my friends and family would understand if I were to commit suicide. This isn't really raising issues of immortality, but of euthanasia. I don't see why they would have such a problem with being in control of the time of their deaths.
I think there would be a lot to explore if all of ponykind were to become immortal at some point, but they would probably manifest later than 30 years from then, and I feel like none of them are even touched in this story.
Spike had known dignitaries and even little fillies harder to track than the old zebra.
...Implying that Spike makes a habit of stalking little fillies?
It's an exposition-heavy, dialogue-driven piece where most of the world-building is done by Spike angrily shouting it at another character. The story does well up until he comes into contact with Death, but grinds to a halt right then. We don't actually see the results of this deathless world, no listless, depressed zebras trudging here and there, or signs that anyone in the market might be suicidal, or some tangible reaction to Death's unilateral decision to impose eternal life on everyone.
We just read about them when Spike shouts them at Death.
I can get behind this conceptually, but the story doesn't do that concept justice, I'm sorry.
“Spike, age one hundred and ten, friends of the Bearers of the pieces of Harmony, correct?”
Spike sat down on his haunches, digesting this information. “They’re the Elements of Harmony, but yes, that’s… me.”
“Pieces—elements,” he waved a hoof. “I find it ironic that Harmony of all Roles shattered into six pieces while the other five Roles of Equestria—even chaos—stayed intact.”
“A—Are you a Bearer then?” said Spike.
The Zebra’s unsettling eyes reverted back to white. “I feel an incredible sense of trust in you Drake, what is your name?”
“Uhh… Spike, I am the faithful servant of Harmony’s Bearer of Magic.”
Looks like you accidentally walked back an idea and forgot to totally get rid of it. Spike seems to be identified twice.
Anyhow, while the idea is interesting, this story really failed to click with me because it is basically a philosophical argument on two viewpoints (which, while it can be engaging, is not really a thing I'm hugely fond of - it'd be more interesting to actually see the societal change) and... I don't think either side presents a very good argument, really.
Dread barely tries to articulate his argument and Spike's kinda falls flat on its face, with many of his pro-random death arguments being pretty easily thrown straight back into his face, which is really frustrating.
I dunno. Honestly, this just didn't work for me.
EDIT: Also, there is a somewhat important question of what sort of immortality is this? Like, do you keep aging to the point of complete infirmity? Does aging freeze? That is actually kinda relevant to the subject at hand and it isn't really clear.
I'm not sure what else to say besides thank you.
Thank you all for reading, reviewing and commenting on Death's Suicide.
Thank you all for reading, reviewing and commenting on Death's Suicide.