Wow. That is crazy good.
That works too.
she lets her injured foal starve to death while its siblings plead for their siblings live.
She might reject them too and when they die or at least starve becomes catatonic.
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A mare is tortured endlessly by an abuser who makes her have litter after litter only to kills them in front of her in the most horrific ways. Until one day the mare is fed up and kills her latests litter before her munstah daddeh can. The abuser seeing this laughs and says she will have new babbehs tomorrow. The very next morning the mare wakes up to a new batch of babbehs she doesn’t remember having. Even though they are cute she kills them anyway
As the last goal is stomped the abuser comes in with sketti and toys and apologizes to the mare for all the bad treatment and wants to make it up to her by giving her skettis and toysie and a special guest.
The guest is the mares original bestest babbeh who the abuser had been taking care of all this time upstairs me giving her everything a fluffy could want. Shocked the abuser reveals it wasn’t the mares babbehs, she killed but her bestest babbeh’s foals. Essentially the mare killed her own grandchildren and the bestest babbeh comes in to see her own babbehs killed by her mom.
The abuser watches in glee as the new mother beats her munsta momma to death.
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I think that’s been done.
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It has.
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I am pretty sure Napoleon and Hippolyta did it, but that’s weirdbox, not bleakbox.
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You are correct. As have a few others on there.
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Futility. Shame.
“Humanity is dying out. War, famine, plague.
Not enough pollinators left for widespread agriculture, the plains are becoming deserts as waterfall is focused on the coast, the seas are boiling poison where aquaculture is a practice in futility as you expend more resources than what you get back. Too many pandemics, generation after generation. Small proxy wars across the world depleted the youth of a generation as world powers receding into obscurity try to be the last global superpower before losing the ability to even expend the effort to interact across the oceans and deadlands.
With mankind finally realizing the Earth is a hospice those of means squirreled themselves away in bunkers and fortified isolated cities. Each doomsday prepper secured their own life, but without cooperation they just lived out their days being hated by their children until resources ran out and their bloodline ended with the selfish short-sighted futility that ended the world.
Why do the children in the cities tear the Foals away from the mother, killing them slowly, then crippling her? Because they are competition for the same garbage, same flowers, that are now a dietary staple. Dandelions have returned as the primary source of nutrition for western civilization after a 400 year hiatus. An apple core could keep their mother alive one more day.
You can still buy a new television, cameras, computers, just about anything like that dirt cheap plus Fluffy kibble made from things humanity cannot eat, but your own food budget is 80% of your income and half the city is vacant buildings owned by someone who has never seen them in-person while a city of tents and plywood springs up all around it. The factory still puts out cars and gaming consoles, manned by homeless workers that can only afford to buy old bread.
Anywhere the supply chain still holds there is prosperity still. It may as well still be 2030. But one flood wiped away the crops with no seeds left to plant, a freeze killed the power and it was never restored, a sinkhole destroyed the roads. There was no zombies or raiders to shoot, folks just loaded what mattered on their backs and wandered in small bands, discarding things one by one before dying in mountain passes or on sun-baked prairies.
Fluffies don’t know that. Life hasn’t changed much for them, aside from spaghetti being almost unheard of. But with their short memory and awareness almost from birth of it, they never knew the difference as individuals. Cities can’t afford to hire people to exterminate them, but America still has enough bullets to shoot every citizen fifty eight times over so the work has just gone amateur. There is still shelters, still breeders, because its the American way these days to refuse to change anything regardless of what has changed around you. Fluffies have grown more toxic as a survival mechanism due to mass overconsumption of the edible variety as a food staple. The Ferals, now avoided by many predators, take advantage of the lack of competition in the many ghost towns dotting the nation which the Fluffies dwell in, as if the abandoned homes have an owner who loves them and is just out shopping.
Humans are just fading away, living ghosts still repeating their same lives until they die or move where there is more people. The Fluffies haven’t noticed.
The last humans, in each region before the last on Earth, died quietly and unnoticed. Each one alone, suspecting themselves to be the last. Many with the unconsumed remains of family or friends, others just hidden in basements or sitting alone on benches.
A Fluffy lives its life in the “present”. It seeks a human to own it. A human, suffering from diarrhea after eating a similar Fluffy out of desperation, ends its life.
Another Fluffy lives its life in the future. It does the same as its ancestor did and tries to find a human to own it, only this Fluffy dies of old age never finding one, wasting its existence going door to door to find an extinct species.
Fluffies don’t instinctively know a human skeleton. Fluffy stories don’t get passed on very often as the cruel world of humans rendered most Fluffies apart from their mothers and fathers as soon as they could breed. Fluffies find shelter in rib cages, lick the moss from bony cheeks, and dream of what a human looks like and how it will make them happy the way the voices in their head says they will.
No other intelligent life in the universe marked the passing of humans, any more than humans tracked the extinction of tropical birds when the water levels swallowed the islands of the Pacific. The last man and woman died unremarkably in the same alley that millions of Stallions and Mares died in before, and their bones bore witness to ten times as many dying the same. “
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A story about a guy who has no ideas who goes onto a site to ask for story ideas and gets an idea for a guy who has no ideas who goes onto a site to ask for story ideas and gets an idea for a guy who has no ideas who goes onto a site to ask for story and gets an idea for a guy who has no ideas who goes onto a site to ask for story ideas and gets an idea for a guy who has no ideas who goes onto a site to ask for story ideas and gets an idea for a guy who has no ideas who goes onto a site to ask for story and gets an idea for a guy who has no ideas who goes onto a site to ask for story ideas and dies before he can write his masterpiece
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Damn poor dude 
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Go for it, even if they used it I would love to see the different takes on it.
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A feral family finds an empty building full of food, so they can survive for the winter. Only problem is that the food is tainted with a slow-acting poison, so the more they eat the more quickly they wither away, but by the time they realize it’s too late for them to be able to go find any other food source.
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OH GOD WTF
Please take that down, it is horrifying
Where do you think we are?