Your name is Odin, and it’s been a few good days since Pretzel opened his eyes. Poor thing is a sweetheart, and has gotten along very well with Seashell. I guess both being born with some kind of monstrous mutation brought them closer together. You know he’s eventually going to have to learn about his cannibalistic nature, but that day isn’t today.
Your life with Mabel has been nice. It’s a bit weird to call her your mother, so you just refer to her by her name. She’s been good to your herd, and you like talking to her on various topics. Sometimes she teaches you about Norse Mythology, and it’s interesting to hear the stories surrounding your namesake.
You ponder on all of this as the herd plays in the safe room, but then Mabel comes up to you. “Hey there Odin, I want to talk to you.”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Well, you haven’t had much positive interaction with the outside world, and I’m pretty sure you caused a painful death to that mare at the daycare.”
“Smooth way to tell me I’m a murderer.”
“Oh come on, everyone wanted it. Besides, you murdered a foal. But that’s besides the point. I want to talk you on a walk. Get familiar with the neighborhood.”
“Sure. I need a break from the herd.”
“Great. Let me get the leash- actually, I doubt you need one. Also, you don’t have to talk to me on the walk. I know how you feel about your secret.”
. . .
And here you are, trotting alongside Mabel. You haven’t spoken, just walked alongside and appreciate the view. But then, you see a unicorn fluffy. And your heart skips a beat. You know him.
Pitch black, red mane, and covered in battle scars, this was a fighting fluffy. But not just any normal fighting fluffy, this fluffy indirectly saved the life of your sister. Scourge. Killer of all fluffies, Breaker of spines.
. . .
You’re Scourge, and you just got back from killing yet another fluffy to fulfill your fathers need for cash and entertainment. You don’t hate it though, it’s entertaining. You turn the corner, and you flick your gaze towards a fluffy and it’s human. The human’s normal, doesn’t look like an abuser, yet her fluffy is missing an eye. But it’s staring at you. It taps it’s mothers leg for attention, and the human picks it up to her ear.
. . .
“Mabel… remember how I told you I get memories that aren’t mine?”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“That Unicorn… I had his memories. I learned the spine breaking attack from him.”
“You want to talk to him?”
“In private, if possible.”
. . .
You’re Mabel, and Odin’s acting a bit weird. he claims he knows this fluffy (clearly a fighting fluffy), so you walk up to it’s owner, who’s currently counting out money he holds in his hand. His fluffy gives you an odd look, but you ignore it.
“Hello sir, I’d like to talk to you.”
“Hm? Oh, hey. You need anything?”
“Yes, actually. You see, my fluffy Odin is a big fan of your fighting fluffy! He wants to talk to him in private, so I was just wondering if you let them chat for a bit.”
“Fuck it, do whatever. Don’t blame me if that fluffy dies.”
“Thank you sir.”
“You heard her, Scourge. Go meet your fan.”
Scourge trots alongside you, and Odin is staring at him all the way. You walk back after letting them go off in an alleyway, and wait.
. . .
“Wha’ Fwuffy wan wif’ Scouwge?”
“I… I need to ask some questions.”
Scourge looks at you wide eyed. Then, he clears his throat.
“Finally, after all this god damn time of pretending to still be a retard, I find a fluffy like me.”
“You… You can talk like me?”
“No, the proper term is that you can talk like me.”
“Okay well… I’m going to need to ask some things. I don’t know why the hell I’m like this, but to sum it up, I randomly can recall memories that aren’t mine. I once remembered something that you did. You broke a brown fluffies spine.”
“Oh yeah, Shitballs. Was his actual name, shame he didn’t live long enough for his kids to hear it. But that’s besides the point. I’m honored that you learned my technique, but I need to ask something. When did you know you were smarter than normal?”
“Uh… when I opened my eyes?”
“So you’re the one… You need to know some things.” He comes up to you, and rests his horn on your head. “Think as hard as you can. Search deep into your memories, and look for mine.”
You try your hardest, and when you feel like your head is about to explode, you’re flung out of your body, and begin to watch a movie in the mind of another fluffy.
. . .
Humans walk around a cold, clinical room. Wearing lab coats, they begin to explain something to another human, wearing a black lab coat.
“So then, what exactly is this project? Why do you have all of these kidnapped fluffies?” The obviously more important man asks.
“Well sir, we call this project FP-17. It stands for Finished Product, and this is our 17th Attempt. But now, we’ve realized how to make progress.”
“Explain to me what this is about.”
“W-well sir, as you probably know, the reason why fluffies today are as dumb as a bag of bricks and can snap like a kid’s lunch tray are because they were never finished. That retarded animal rights group stole them from Hasbio and released them into the wild.”
“So you’re telling me your goal is to create a fluffy that would mimic the finished product of Hasbio?”
“Yes. And as you can see, we have many fluffies back here. They are donated from willing owners, and I have developed a great machine. A machine capable of extracting memories from fluffies, and it can even inject them into other fluffies minds. But we have another section here. These cages-” The man waves toward’s Scourges cage, along with other heavily scarred fluffies. “-Are fighter fluffies. We will also takes parts of their DNA to enhance the subjects strength.”
“So explain to me the process.”
“Our goal is to create a fluffy that is stronger than them all, smarter than them all, all by using this machine. We plan to take memories from all of these fluffies, DNA strands from the smartest and strongest, and mash them all together into one fluffy, and turn him into the god-like equivalent of fluffies.”
“A very interesting prospect. I very much like this idea. It is approved, but I would like to see the test subject for this experiment.”
“Very well, sir.” The man can barely contain his excitement, but he unlatches a carrier and drags a fluffy out of it. You would gasp if you could, but you can barely hear yourself croak out a single word.
Dad… That was your father… was this what Mimir meant? If he just was a successful subject, you wouldn’t have to face all the hardships throughout your foalhood?
But the orange and green shitstain smiles. You look into his eyes, and none of the horrible fluffy you knew is there. No lust, greed, or anger. “Hewwo hoomins! Nyu daddeh?”
“None of us will be your father.” His face drops. “But if you are a good fluffy, then you will get a dad.”
. . .
“Audio Log One. So far, the extraction of memories and DNA has been successful. None of the fluffies are bothering me, so they’re all unharmed. I’ve injected the first memories into Subject O. It was a memory of a fluffy meeting his mate for the first time, and now all he thinks about is how he wants to be a ‘gud speciaw fwen’. I suppose it could go worse.”
. . .
“Audio Log Two. Subject O has been injected with the memories of a fighter fluffy. Subject O was given a fake fluffy to combat. At first, he was reluctant, but when I uttered the word “Spaghetti” he instantly began to pummel the doll. He showed smarter than average techniques, so I suppose whoever owned that money-maker used Spaghetti as a trigger for his violent tendencies. More testing is required.”
. . .
“Audio Log Three. Earlier this day, I located a family of brown fluffies. I took the one Stallion I could find, and placed him in a den after washing him. At first, Subject O was overjoyed at the aspect of making an acquaintance. However, when I told him to fight the fluffy, he seemed reluctant. I uttered the word Spaghetti to the brown stallion, but he went into a frenzy, screaming about getting sketties. Subject O, however, began to twitch profusely, and on the 5th ‘Sketti’ yelled out loud, Subject O began to violently mutilate the stallion. Subject O even attempted to eat the entrails, but then snapped back to reality. I will began testing survival skills with the memories of cannibal fluffies used for hunting.”
. . .
“Audio Log Four. Subject O has produced incredible results. My assistant set up a fake forest environment for Subject O, and placed fake bushes around. However, these bushes had types of food in them. 80% Of the bushes contained Yew Berries, a poisonous wild berry that would be sure to kill a fluffy. And the others were simply raspberries. After releasing Subject O into the environment, he immediately began to forage for food. Upon finding the yew berry bushes, he would turn away, claiming they were ‘meanie nummies’. When he found the raspberries, he did not eat them instantly. He instead placed them on his back, and upon doing so walked at a slower rate to balance him. But what he did next was truly shocking. He would walk to the bushes with yew berries, and urinate on them on to mark his scent. But then he muttered to himself, ‘wha’ if smeww pwace nu wowk’ and took singular raspberries, and crushed them onto the ground to mark them when his sense of smell failed.”
. . .
"Audio Log Five. I have not performed tests on Subject O nor extracted memories, but I must report on this. When I leave the room, I hear a faint slithering noise. I suspected it was merely a machine inside, but upon entering back, a red tendril would slither away from the window. I set up a camera to observe whatever the creature was. I will not perform any tests or extractions, this creature could be harmful to the data. In other news, Subject O has been left in the fake forest. He set up a nest by hollowing out a bush, and is thriving.
. . .
“A-Audio Log Six. I discovered what the creature was, and it’s truly shocking. Upon leaving, I went to the security room to monitor the testing room. It was a monstrous creature, yet it had the physiology of a fluffy. It was pure red, almost looking plastic despite having fur. It had no snout, no ears, and it’s face was similar to a child’s drawing of a smiling face. I decided to monitor it for as long as I could. And it sat there. For an hour straight. However, 10 minutes after the hour passed, it stared directly into the camera. It’s mouth opened up to reveal an endless pit of teeth, and it’s tongue lashed out and the camera feed went static. I dashed back to the room, and it was gone. The camera however seemed to be slashed in half. I have referred this creature to the fluffy examination department. Possible new breed?”
. . .
“Audio Log Seven. I brought Subject O back in, and most of the fluffies have had their memories extracted and sent home. I am keeping one, however, to test the peak of it’s skills when it is ready. The fluffy is named ‘Scourge’. A fighting fluffy famous for being able to break necks with it’s teeth, paralyzing his opponents. He was one of the first choices for memory extraction, but ever since, he simply sits there, and stares at me or Subject O. He was also one of the few fluffies able to look the monster from the last audio log in the face. I may test on Scourge as well as Subject O more with this creature.”
. . .
“Audio Log Eight. I have brought other scientists in to have lunch inside the testing room. This was still an experiment, to see how he handled being around multiple humans. I noticed his ears prick up at the mentions of mares, foals, and most of all, smarties. Subject O possibly beginning to show signs of smarty syndrome. The higher ups still deny me a shock therapy device to make him forget the conversation. Whatever. It’s their money they’re blowing.”
. . .
“Audio Log Nine. Everything has gone wrong. Apparently, many of the fluffies brought in were smarties, which instantly spiked Subject O’s smarty level to beyond hellgremlin level. Despite the sickening results, I think it’s time to bring in Scourge.”
. . .
“Audio Log T-Ten. It’s astounding, somehow, Scourge beat him, yet did not kill him. I sent the footage to Scourge’s owner, and even HE says he never fought like that. Scourge wiped the floor with Subject O. Apparently, the fighting fluffy DNA has not enhanced his abilities. What surprises me most is that Scourge never once used the natural fluffy combat technique: Sorry Poopies. A liquid stream of foul smelling shit, designed to blind creatures similarly to a squid’s ink. I am currently considering restarting the project, with Scourge in mind.”
. . .
“Audio Log Eleven. I have decided against this project continuing with Scourge, so I finally got approval for the shock therapy device and wiped out Subject O’s memories. However, he still clings on to many involving hellgremlins, yet has toned down to the level of a normal smarty. I threw him out and released him into the wild. Here’s hoping that monster devours the disappointment. Scourge will be going home today. Signing off.”
. . .
You are flung back into the real world. It doesn’t even look like a second has passed. Scourge looks at you.
“It’s nice to know there’s another one out there like me, but I need to go. If you want to see me again, then meet me and my owner here on Sunday at this exact time. Goodbye.”
You don’t know what to think. Your father was corrupted by the ramblings of scientists, scientists who did all of THIS! Your painful existence was their own damn fault. You head back to Mabel, and she sees the tired look on your face.
“Odin? Are you okay?”
“I’m tired. Can we go home?”
“Sure. Hop up, I’ll carry you.”
. . .
Back home, you lay down in your bed. The herd doesn’t approach you, probably because you told them to leave you alone, and spend the rest of the day pondering the experience. Mabel comes up to you, when it’s late at night.
“Odin? Do you want to talk about it?”
“No… maybe tommorow.”
“Alright. Well, everyone’s heading to bed. Love you. Night.”
“…Love you too.” You nearly choke on your next words, you look at Mabel, the human who saved you. The human who saved you from your endless fighting and pain, the human who saved your herd from all of it. You let a smile spread across your face. “Love you too, Mom.”
Mabel seems a bit shocked, but then smiles, and pets you before leaving. You drift off to sleep.
. . .
“Let me guess. You’re pissed at me for not telling you about what I knew.”
“Honestly? Not really. I just want to know more… why was it that my dad absorbed the information but I can’t?”
“Patience. Do not speak. I will explain everything.”
“Let me explain my origins. Many people have different theories on why we exist, such as genetic abominations, alien creatures who took the forms of disfigured fluffies, created by supernatural events. But the truth is, we come from everything. Jellenheimers possess abilities depending on their environment and creation.”
“The first type is supernatural. This type possesses weak physical abilities, trading them for mystical abilities. This type has tentacles come out of its back, and can use them to control the minds of fluffies like puppets.”
“The second type are mimics. These are Jellenheimers that were born surrounded by fluffies, watching them all gain love while they’re thought to be a monster. This drives them to be like the fluffies they watched, and gain the ability to steal the bodies of fluffies.”
“The last type is what I am. Barbaric brutes possessing lashing tentacles, slicing teeth, sharp appendages, but I chose not to follow that path. I chose to use my abilities for knowledge, and targeted human facilities for your kind. During that time, I learned their languages. But when I came across the one that your father sprung from, I observed.”
“That foolish scientist believed I was gone after he set up a camera and alarm, but I found other ways in. I observed your father all day, as I needed to know more about it. When he became a feral, he sought out a herd. Unfortunately, their smarty was a mare, and not a stallion. Your father brutally beat the mare half to death, and of course turned her into his first ‘enfie mare’. Tore her limbs off, used her foals to stop the bleeding, still clinging on to some memories. Asserting himself as the new smarty.”
“Life was good, but I of course ushered fluffies to join your herd, to alter their path. But when you were born, my Interest peaked.”
“The moment you came out, you cried for milk, in actual fluffspeak. The herd was bewildered, but that just gave your parent’s a reason to make you the bestest babbeh. But there’s one thing you never ponder. How did you save your sister, despite being powerless all that time?”
You never thought of that. You always assumed it was luck. But Mimir has been watching you since your last generation existed. Wait, so that means… “You saved my sisters life?”
“Many times. I do not regret it, she has turned out to be interesting. But of course, things got interesting when I ushered that cannibal fluffy to join your herd. It was a test, I assumed that you had inherited all of the alterations that were made on your father. You inherited the strength they wanted him to have, the intelligence they wanted him to have. Scourge was not intentional, he was actually extracted much later. He was one of the first fighting fluffies, as they were used sparingly. But that is besides the point. I wanted to see how you would act. You saw the signs, but I am disappointed that you did not act on it. I did not intervene during his attack, because I knew you needed to learn just how harsh the world was for your kind.”
“But I only decided to speak to you when you ran away. I was the one who let loose the dog on your herd. It was simply owned by a human, but I led it away while they were walking near your herd’s nest. Using my strength to bait the dog, I let it directly into your herd. I already knew of your plan, and I wanted to help make sure nothing survived. Unfortunately, that Berry you know is still alive.”
“But I have been rambling. The point is, you are not the only one. Scourge is not the only one. This experiment was attempted many times, with varying methods. Whether you want to use this knowledge to find them or create more, I will leave you to ponder. Goodbye.”
. . .
And with that, you woke up. It was the next day. And you began to think. These intelligent fluffies were most likely in feral herds, and it would be hard to find them. But it meant more answers. You hauled yourself out of bed, and saw Mabel walking towards the pen.
Your plan was simple, if you truly were the smartest, strongest fluffy, then you would need to overthrow the smarties. Then you realized what the true goal of that scientists experiment was, the conversation during his meal was an indicator. He never wanted a finished product.
He wanted a Smarty. A Smarty to Rule Them All.
. . .
And that, everyone, is the end of ASTRTA.
The first part, that is. Odin will return, and when he comes back, he’ll be an adult and get into much more shenanigans. I hope you have all enjoyed my stories, and I will be taking a short break to shape part 2 of ASTRTA. Goodbye, and I will answer any questions you have about Part 2.
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