In the cold streets of a distant city, there lived a small Fluffy family, they endured so much during the year, struggling when the mare got herself pregnant and things went down hill from there. The stallion knew that it was a very bad time to have babies, the warm season would naturally give way to the cold times, and that was never good for their offspring. He grew up as a child of ferals, and he got to see the misfortune of foals that came into the world at the wrong time. As much as he could prepare for the worst, it was just inevitable that the cold times would start taking his children just as they were brought into the world. The heartbreak of losing his first to the chill, the pain of the second succumbing to the frigid ice, and they piled from there. Each one adding to the crushing despair that held his heart.
The loss of his mate was the final straw, the lack of food, and the constant pressure of feeding foals just took its toll, she didn’t even wake from her sleep to greet him. Forever dreaming with the foals that fell alongside of her. Only three remained, but his heart just couldn’t bear to go through anymore pain. He felt his will to live falter, and it all just fell away into the dark with his mate. He stopped eating, stopped trying to do anything, he just embraced the end and it took him silently with no struggle at all. All that was left was you, and your last two siblings.
Barely clinging onto life, surrounded by the death of everyone that you hold so dear. The other two are fading, but you’re the strongest of your siblings. The only one that managed to stand on his own four legs, the only one who successfully passed from needing milk to just needing solids like your mommy and daddy. It should be a moment of rejoicing, something that your parents would have normally cheered and celebrated, but your achievements are unnoticed by the dead and dying.
You try, you eat a rotten apple core that your father left behind along with some scraps of food that were never touched by him or your mother. It’s frozen solid, you cannot even derive a little nourishment from suckling on the frozen bit of fruit, moving from item to item, they are all the same in texture and hardness. Your stomach roaring in agony, your ribs clearly visible, you beg quietly, “Pweas, fwuffeh su hungwy. chirp Pwease be nummies fo’ fwuffeh an’ oddah babbehs.”
It is of no use, but begging is the only thing that you have at your disposal. All that you’re able to do is cuddle the two remaining siblings you have left, their withered shivering frames weakly clinging to life in your grasp. You can feel the life burning away from them, tears running down your face as your heart just breaks with each labored breath they take. As much as it hurts, you cannot blame mommy and daddy for their forever sleepies, it just hurts too much.
Living hurts. Struggling hurts. Your eyes burn, tears freezing against your cheeks, you feel so tired. They’ve stopped chirping a long time ago. They’re silent like mommy and daddy. You just want to go to the same place as them. It won’t be long now. You smile a little. Nuzzling in the pile of frozen corpses, you are ready.
You can barely register the sound of footsteps, something running quickly down the alleyway, it doesn’t take long before that something crashes into your home. Flinging you, your siblings, and your parents out onto the cold asphalt, their lifeless bodies scattered about. The pain barely echoes in your head, you can feel a momentary surge as your body remembers its purpose to live. The small amount of blood still in your body barely oozing out of scrapes made all over your body, bitten by small stones and gravel.
The figure that ran into your box struggles to get back on his feet, he slips on the ground, panicking desperately as something quietly looms over him like a shadow. Two black wings erupt forth, consuming the fallen man in blackness before he can even scream. His voice silenced by a sickening snap, his body hanging in the air, his head lulled unnaturally far back while the creature feeds upon him quietly.
The corpse falls, bled dry and pale white, his face contorted in agony, his final moments clear to see. The black shadow moves towards you, struggling to breathe, you look up at the darkness and see two pale red eyes staring back at you. There’s something in you that tells you to be afraid of this thing, it gives people forever sleepies, it’ll probably do the same to you. However, this is silenced by your own weariness, and a voice that echoes in your head gently. A soft voice that whispers so close that it feels like a part of you.
“Are you still alive?”
“Fwuffeh nu wan be awone. Famiwy aww gu sweepies, fwuffeh wan sweepies tu.”
“You don’t have to die here like them. I can save you if you want me to.”
“Fwuffeh nu wan be awone.”
“I won’t let you be alone. If you come with me.”
“Mistah… be daddeh?”
“If this works out, sure. I’ll be your daddy.”
“…otay.”
As much as you should fear it, the shadow feels warm around you, it leans in and picks you up with gentle warm hands. So warm, you feel like melting from his touch, his eyes draw you in, and you watch him sink his teeth into his own wrist. Just before the dark takes you, you feel warmth hit your mouth, and you swallow it in.
In the darkness of your mind, you can see your whole family walking away into the light, you struggle to follow after them, but something holds you back. Red chains that wrap around your hooves, your throat, your whole body, they pull you away from the light and from your family. You struggle against them, tears flooding your vision as you scream, “MUMMAH, DADDEH! SABE FWUFFEH!”
“You chose this. You chose to stay here. You must accept this.”
“Fwuffeh nu undahstan’.”
“In time, you will. For now, you need to wake up.”
Your eyes snap open, the darkness is gone and you’re in a new place. It’s not the alleyway, you’re in a large room filled with things. Things you don’t really understand at first. You are laying on a soft pillow, wrapped in a satin blanket of crimson and gold. It’s so warm, you can barely bring yourself to slip out of it. Yet, curiosity is louder than the urge to sleep. Pulling yourself out of the blanket burrito that you were placed into, you carefully jump out of the couch onto the cold wooden floor. Looking around, you think about your family, did they make it here too? Carefully, you waddle forward, examining your surroundings, the towering furnishings, they look so pretty like your sleeping place. Eventually, you find yourself in front of what looks like a large box of wood sitting in the corner of the room. It lays ontop of a cyan rug, beautifully decorated, the box is made out of wood, and it looks just as beautiful as everything else. Intricately detailed, carved with beautiful shapes and ivy vines.
Something inside of you tells you that this is important. No, what is inside is important. Important to you. You can remember the shadow that took you away, the red eyes that sung to you, the warmth that you found yourself completely intoxicated by. It brought up feelings you never had, feelings that hide within your very DNA. The feelings that wanted you to call the figure “daddeh”. That took you away from the nothing that stole everything else that mattered to you, the nothing that you were more than happy to embrace. You reach to the coffin, but flinch when you see the lid that rested ontop of it was shoved away by a hand. Stepping back, you watch as the figure that slept in the coffin slowly began to rouse itself. The pale gray hand, with long white claw-like nails flexed itself, fingers curling briefly, bones cracking as it slowly falls to grasp at the edge of its resting place.
Loudly, it yawned, sitting up, matted pale platinum-blond hair, pale grayish-blue skin devoid of life and pulse, dressed in a black suit with faintly noticeable fangs protruding from his lips. He looks at you, smiling at your presence, “You are alive, I’m glad that I wasn’t too late.”
“Wai sabe fwuffeh?”
“Can question time wait? I need to get something to drink.”
He slipped out of his coffin, walking to you, you feel him lift you up and he gently presses his mouth on your neck. The feeling of being bitten, you never expected it to feel… Good. It feels good. Strong waves of pleasure flood your body, trembling as he drinks in your warmth, before releasing you after a few seconds. The waves of ecstasy leave you light-headed, barely able to say anything as he cradles your body in his arms, once cold, they begin to radiate a gentle warmth. The warmth that came from you. He strokes your fluff, running his fingers gently over your back as he calmly hums to you.
“I admired your tenacity. Enduring so much pain, so much loss, but still willing to take a chance when it presented itself. I just couldn’t resist.”
Rubbing your ear, you coo at his touch, strength returning to you, nuzzling against his hand, pushing into his palm.
“I’m all alone, a lot like you. I don’t trust people very much, and most of your kind that I’ve found have been… less than appealing to me. Their fragility, and their ego makes them unworthy of my love and attention. Yet, here you are. A potential that I’ve not seen. Something I cannot help taking for myself.”
“Fwuffeh nu undastan’, bu’ fwuffeh wub daddeh fo’ sabin’ fwuffeh.”
“You don’t need to. You’re to be mine, after all. How about… Bloodbank?”
“Bwoobenk?”
There’s a moment of silence, he looks upon you with warm eyes and laughs, holding you close to his cheek, “That’s good enough, I’m your owner. I’m Rufus.”
“Wufus. Dat am daddeh’s namesies? Bwoobenk wub daddeh.”
He holds you as he walks through his room, setting you down in a litterbox, “This will be where you relieve yourself. Do you understand?”
It reminds you of the nest, you see the analog between it and the bad poopy area that Fluffies are supposed to go for good poopies and peepees. Of course, you instinctively go to work on trying to relieve yourself, but there’s very little. A few drops of the most foul concentrated urine, and that’s all. You cover what you did regardless, but you really hope that’s all there is. He seems to understand, petting you gently, “You’ve not eaten in a while. If I hadn’t offered you my blood, you’d probably be dead.”
“Bwoobenk nu undastan’… wha 'bout famiwy? Wai daddeh nu sabe famiwy?”
His face falls a little, he picks you up, stroking your fluff as he sighs, “My blood is only able to save the living or the dying. They were already dead when I arrived. Only you could be saved. If I tried to use my blood on them, they wouldn’t be themselves. It’s better that they got to move on.”
“Wai?”
“I… Don’t think you would understand. You are able to think, feel, you are still you. That’s because you were alive, that you’re still alive. If I tried to use my blood on them, they’d only come back as monsters, monsters without any love, without thought and without emotion. A fate worse than death.”
“Oh… Bwoobenk undastan’ den. Famiwy hab guud fowebah sweepies den.”
“I’m glad you get it.”
As much as you can understand what he said, it still hurts that only you got to make it through all of this, it hurts that you can still remember their faces. The way they died, the cold feeling of their bodies against your own. It doesn’t feel fair. You are led into another room, filled with toys, and stuffed animals. He sets you down on the plush carpeted floor, “This is your play room. I made it just for you while you slept. I hope it is to your liking.”
You can’t believe your eyes, first a daddy and now this. You run to his leg and hug him as tightly as you can, “Dank’oo daddeh. Dis am… dis am weaw wite? Nu sweepie time pictah?”
You’re crying, pressing against his leg, you cannot help the tears, the pain and the fear. It already starts gripping at you, the overwhelming terror that this is just your dying moments, you’re not really here. Not really. No, you’re in the cold, you’re still out there. This can’t be real. This just can’t be. You’re fears are immediately silenced by a sharp pain, he poked you with one of his long claws. A soft poke, but you yelp nonetheless, “Wai daddeh huwt Bwoobenk? Bwoobenk nu bad fwuffeh.”
“Sorry, I’m just proving a point. If this wasn’t real, that wouldn’t have hurt. You’re not dreaming, my pet. All of this is real. And it’s all yours.”
It takes you a moment, you still feel the lingering ache from his nail poking into your side, but gradually you start to agree with daddy. Dreams never hurt, none of your dreams have at least, so… you cautiously look at all the toys, still unable to truly accept that this is your new reality. Eventually, you give into temptation, and take a block so you can stack them up. The feel of the wood on your hooves, the joy as they make clacking sounds together as you stack them, you cannot help squealing with utter joy. As you lose yourself into your entertainment, Rufus simply sits down in a chair, taking a book that is resting on the table next to it and starting to read. Music starts to fill the room, you look around, then back at your daddy who has started up an old record player.
“Wha daddeh wistenin’ tu?”
“It’s called jazz. This piece is called “Jitterbug Waltz by Fats Waller”. I find it rather pleasant. Do you not like it?”
“Bwoobenk… wub it. Jus’ nebah heaw puwdy sounds befowe.”
“That’s good, that’s what your life will have now. All the songs you ever want. I hate silence.”
“Dank’oo daddeh.”
“I love you too, pet. Go back to your games.”
.