Abandoned Angel
WARNING: This chapter is graphic and explicit. Do not read if you don’t want to be a bit horrified. Seriously. The next chapter will be back to normal, and skipping this chapter will not be a huge detriment to the story. Simply put, if you are concerned about the graphic nature then skip this one and go straight on to Part 14.
Part 13: Dr Jekyll and Ms Hyde
A week and a half ago
“Huuuu! Biggest poopies!” Echoed through the empty house. The lime green mare struggled and squirmed. Her bloated body twisted. It was time, her babies were coming! “Babbehs! Nee babbehs! Speshew pwace big owies!”
“Gun be best mummah!” Her special friend hopped around her waiting for their babies to appear. “Fwame be best daddeh!” His monochrome red fluff flying about him, tangled and unkempt. The mare just grunted and begged for babies.
The first foal popped out, Flame quickly scooped it up, licking it over. It tasted nasty, but he pays it no mind. Gently, carefully he carried the pink and red Pegasus foal to his mate. “Babbeh!” The mare sniffed and licked at her first baby, “Gud babbeh! Wub babbeh!”
Chirp! The baby squirmed in Flame’s hooves. He gently laid it onto his mate’s teat. “Gud babbeh, eat nummies. Miwkies make happy babbeh. Mummah hab wots miwkies.” His mate’s body heaved again, the ordeal was far from over. A second foal squeezed out, a third quickly followed. A red unicorn and yellow earth types, respectively. Each one Flame cleaned off, proclaiming it a “Gud babbeh!” His mate agreeing. The red Pegasus now sleeping on his mother’s fluff while his two brothers nursed their first milk.
“Wose… Wose nu dun! OWIES!” She squealed and a fourth baby popped out. Flame picked up the fourth and final baby, cleaning away. This black and pink Pegasus was small. Smaller than the others. Somehow Flame knew that was wrong. It was bad. Flame sniffed at the newborn and gave it a lick. It smelled bad and tasted worse. This was a bad baby.
“Wose wan babbeh!” Flame gently carried the squeaking runt to Rose, letting her sniff and clean the newborn foal. “Ish… Ish gud babbeh?” She looked concerned, nearly frantic!
“Fwame… say gud babbeh.”
Rose smiled and gave the baby another lick. The first three babies full and now sleeping on Rose’s side. Flame gently put the runt onto her teat. Rose stayed on her side, softly singing to her new babies. “Wub mah babbehs, best babbehs!”
Flame went to work. He knew that if their mommy came home to the mess that they would get bad owies. Rose knew this as well, she didn’t stop Flame. He padded softly to her backside and began cleaning. He had to clean Rose, the poopies, the after birth, the blood. Everything. And if he had mouth poopies he’d have to clean that up as well. Sometimes his mommy was really mean. It was the worst mouth tasties Flame ever had, and once done cleaning his made he made mouth poopies in the litter.
Mary walked in, home from work. She had hoped to have been there for the birth, but was pleasantly surprised she didn’t have to make Flame clean up. He learned after the first litter and cleaned up on his own. She stood over the new mother and babies, Flame cowering on the other side of the room.
“Wook, mummah! Gud babbehs!” Rose rolled around a bit. Mary picked up the pink Pegasus, rolling it around in her palm. Rose never ever tried to stop her mummah, a harsh lesson she learned with her first litter. “Wub babbeh! Babbeh gib bes huggies!” Rose’s enthusiastic rambling sounded force, she didn’t want her mummah to hurt the new babies.
“It certainly is. But the black one isn’t.”
“Nuuu! Nu take babbeh!”
Mary picked up the runt. She already had a plan. They can keep the runt. That’ll be all they get. “You want this one?” Mary asked, holding the run a foot from Rose.
“Yesh! Ish gud babbeh!” Rose whined.
“Come get it. If it’s a good baby then give it huggies.”
“Nuuu! No weggies to hug wif! Wan weggies to hug babbehs!” Rose wailed and cried, her babies began chirping in fear, including the runt. “WAN BABBEHS! WAN WEGGIES!” Rose’s body rocked and convulsed, her freshly cleaned fur soaked with baby urine and shit. Silently and timidly Flame walked over and reached up for the runt. Mary let him take it from her hand and watched, amused, as he set the runt with its brothers and declared them all “gud babbehs.”
The silent and apathetic look eventually silenced the mare. Rose’s voice died to a soft sobbing, softly begging for legs and good babies. Mary had considered resetting Rose, but that would take the fun out of the suffering. Mary left the room, left Flame to clean his mate and left Rose begging for her legs.
Four days later
"And how are your babies doing, Rose?” Mary inquired of the mare. It has only been four days and the foals were playing as best they could with their tiny bodies. The fluffy ponies loved to play. They were stumbling and awkwardly running around the safe room, pushing a ball twice their size around. Baby noises bubbled up around her. The runt, the black Pegasus had grown as well, surprising Mary that it even survived.
“Babbehs gud babbehs. Fwame hewp dem make gud poopies in witta bawks”
Flame sat in the corner, he was afraid of his mommy. He knew better than to speak up. She was quick with giving him owies.
Chirp! The pink Pegasus made a commotion as it abandoned the ball and scrambled towards the litter box, but not in time. A small trail of piss and shit behind it. “Nu… nu wanna poopie on fwoow…” The foal just sat against the edge of the litter box, sitting in its own filth. Flame came over and quickly licked up the mess, pushing over the foal roughly to clean the dirty fur.
“Good boy, Flame.” Mary rarely gave him compliments.
He looked at her, fear in his eyes. “Tank yu, mummah.” He then gave the foal a soft slap to the face. It began to cry, “Dun be bad babbeh. Dun be stooped babbeh.” He smacked the foal again. Rose watched, she knew better than to stop him.
The pink and red Pegasus chirped and yelled, “Bad daddeh!” Flame smacked him again. “NUU! BAD DADDEH! WAN MUMMAH!” Flame raised his hoof again, ready to discipline.
That just won’t do. Mary snatched up the foal. “What did you say?” She held the foal close to her face.
Chirp! “Wan mummah! Bad daddeh!”
The foals ran to their mother, the pile shaking and making scared poopies. Flame would be cleaning that up, Mary thought. The pile chirping and crying as they all watched Mary walk out with the foal in her hand.
In the garage, Mary set the foal down on the cold metal table. “Bad babies get bad owies.” Soldering iron? Check. Stainless steel shears? Check. She held open his tiny baby fluffy mouth, pinching its jaws, forcing its mouth to stay open. The baby made an awkard inarticulate “huuu” noise. With her free hand she grabbed the shears and worked the blade into its mouth. The “huuu” noise got louder and it feebly tried to fight.
“Keep fighting and it’ll only get worse.” She calmly told the baby. With a quick motion she cut the foal’s tongue off. It thrashed in her hand, screaming as best it could for such a small body. Mary took the soldering iron and cauterized the wound. The smell of burn blood, flesh and fur stung her eyes.
The foal kept screaming, unable to fight a firm human grip. “One down, two to go.” She went to the bathroom and dropped the baby into the sink. She returned to the safe room, sans foal. Rose tried to protest, asking for her baby, the pleas falling on deaf ears. Mary grabbed the other two good foals, leaving the runt.
“These babies need punishment. They aren’t good babies.” She kicked the door closed behind her. The tongue-less foal’s screams faintly reached her ears as she entered the garage again. She gently put the cowering babies into a box as she prepared. She wouldn’t need the shears for this and the soldering iron was still hot.
She took out the yellow earth type foal and held it down firmly against the cold metal. The soldering iron smelled of burnt fur and ozone. Quickly she shoved it into the ear of the pony, pushing past the eardrum and into the inner ear. Not deep enough to kill, no, she didn’t want to kill any of these fluffies. Just as quick she did the other ear. Deaf. Dumb was sitting in the sink screaming away.
Blind. She dropped the now deaf and bleeding pony into the box and grabbed the remaining foal. In the same fashion she held down the unicorn and took the soldering iron. She held the iron sideways and forced the length of it against the unicorn’s eye. Burning it’s cornea, iris and pupil away, the superheated metal burning against its eyelids. Both eyes, burned away, the flesh melted the skin of the eyelids together.
She now had a sink full of screaming fluffy foals. Now she just had to keep them alive. They were going to make a great present!