Sprinkles curled up in her cold, metal cage filled with shit and piss, sobbing and wondering what happened to the “nice mummah” that adopted her from the shelter and had an entire safe room with a clean bed, toysies, nummies, and Fluff TV just three weeks ago. Now she was in a room made entirely of concrete, something mummah called a “garage”. Blood stained the walls, she was certain it was all hers, as she hadn’t seen another fluffy or other animal since she’d been adopted. Various “scawy things” covered the wall, they were bloody and rusty but neatly organized. The entire room looked really neat aside from the blood and body parts that hadn’t yet been cleaned.
That’s when she heard that all too familiar sound of mechanical wings unfurling and metal boots clicking down the steps. She knew by sound that that she’d be dying again today, just to come back again, and again, and again. She had 4 near death experiences in the past from previous abusers and was terrified of the other side. Other fluffies at the shelter told her about “skettiland”, a place where good fluffies go when they die, but she didn’t believe in it- all she had seen every time she almost died was just an eerie, black silence that she could somehow feel even though she knew she was dead.
And every time Mercy killed and rezzed her, she felt that cold, empty, silent world again, only to be yanked back into the warmth and loudness of life. Sounds, bright lights, and the heat of the garage all hit her like a truck after being pulled from the void, like a glass bowl cracking after being taken from a freezer and then placed immediately in the oven, except at least that glass bowl would know peace.
Mercy picked up a blood stained spiral notebook labeled “Best Friends Forever” and proceeded to write the following in her journal, while occasionally looking over at Sprinkles:
“Today we’ll be testing the effects of total amputation on a fluffy. I’ve sterilized the table I’ve been using as the risk of an infection is high, and I don’t want this miserable creature dying in its sleep while I’m not there to revive it in time. I’ll be using a split second of healing from my staff to restore the amputated limbs just to stumps, and sterilizing them with iodine. I used soapy water to clean the cage outside and then rinsed it with a hose.”
Mercy’s metal boots clicked on the concrete floor as she approached the cage, getting increasingly louder to the poor fluffy’s eardrums as she came closer, causing her to wince.
“Hello Sprinkles! Do you know what game we’re gonna play today?”
“Nu! Nu mow games! Games scawy! Wan shewlter!”
“It’s called the Bye Bye Leggies Game!”
“Bye bye Leggies? But fwuffy need weggies to walk!”
“Yeah, I know that, silly!” She said, grabbing her by the scruff of her neck. “We’re gonna see what it’s like when you CAN’T walk!”
“Nu…” she sobbed quietly. There was no point in resisting her anymore. Whenever she tried to struggle during the first week, Mercy would get incredibly angry and the tortures would be far worse, including a lot of yelling and insults. It was easier for her if she didn’t struggle.
Mercy plopped her down on the sterilized table and grabbed her bone saw. Sprinkles immediately tucked all her legs in. She could tell by the scowl and furled brow on the bad mummah’s face that she shouldn’t had done so.
“Oh Sprinkles, show me your legs, now.”
“Nu…Nu….wan keep weggies” She sobbed.
“Well you know that’s not going to happen…!” Mercy slammed the bone saw angrily on the table a few inches from Sprinkles’ face.
“It’s either your leggies, or your horns and wingies!”
Sprinkles lived in the shelter that taught expecting mother fluffies and their mates that Alicorn fluffies are not monsters, but are in fact very valuable to humans and should not be treated any differently than any other fluffy. “Good mothers love all their babies equally” was a phrase she would hear the shelter staff say often, and her own mother felt the same way. She had never considered herself a monster because she was lucky enough to only know other fluffies who viewed Alicorns equally- probably the only good time in her life was when she still knew her mother in that alley.
“T-take weggies…” She said, her eyes red and no longer able to produce tears. She stuck her legs out for the bone saw. Maybe if she were still an alicorn she could still get adopted by someone nice if she ever made it back to the shelter. Nobody would want an Alicorn without wings and a horn that couldn’t have babies- she is well aware of the fact that she was barren from being raped by her previous abusers and meanie stallions, and it saddens her greatly.
Mercy slammed the bone saw onto her left back leg without warning, leaving a jagged cut that was spurting blood from an artery all over her white dress. She loved the blood stains on her dresses, the ones that had become damaged in battle and could no longer be worn publicly.
Sprinkles immediately yelped in a pain she wasn’t expecting to happen so quickly, the yelp was so loud that it made Mercy herself wince, which only made her angrier.
“Fuck you and every member of your terribly invasive species that was born only out of corporate greed!” She shouted, slamming the saw down again. She then realized that by amputating another limb without healing the first one that Sprinkles would die from exsanguination in seconds. The blood coated her dress in a way that made it soggy and difficult to wear, instead of just light blood stains. She tried to grab her staff, but it was too late. Sprinkles had stopped moving, and the fluffy’s soul- a ball of golden yellow light -hovered over her deceased body. But that’s just fine- Mercy knew what to do. She lifted her hand up, capturing the soul into her fingertips, absorbing it, and releasing it back into the body of the formerly deceased.
A new, exact genetic copy of Sprinkles as a fully intact adult appeared on the table, next to the pale, bloodstained corpse missing two legs.
“Wow! It happened again! A few more times and I can prove my hypothesis- Fluffy resurrections spawn a new, genetically identical copy next to former corpse, defying the Law Of Conservation Of Matter! If this proves to be 100% repeatable, we could use the fluffy’s meat as an infinitely renewable source of protein! I personally have never eaten one of these things, but considering their genetics are part pig, part horse, and part human, I imagine it’s safe to eat. It’s not like they’re actually human, we share DNA with chimps but we can still eat them if we choose. This dirty, miserable species could prove to have massive humanitarian benefits.”
Normally when Mercy revives her teammates, the previous corpse became fully healed, all bulletholes being instantly restored, burns healed, and severed limbs immediately returned to the corpse they originated from, even if the severed limb was burned to ashes from dynamite, it reformed and reattached itself, all before Mercy releases the soul back into the body. But with fluffies, a new, exact genetic copy of the fluffy appears mysteriously that even retains all long term memories, usually only forgetting the past 1-3 hours prior to its death.
The “new” Sprinkles looked at it’s corpse on the table.
“M-mummah try and take weggies…? Why…?”
“Astonishing! You don’t remember that’s what happened?”
“Nu…”
“Well…mummah was playing a bit too rough is all! This time I’ll make sure to go slow so that you don’t die.” She grabbed Sprinkles by the scruff again and started gently sawing away at the back leg, humming quietly to herself. Once the leg was off and spurting blood, she grabbed a clamp and attached it to the stump.
The clamps were cold and hurt almost as bad as the bone saw. Sprinkles yelped again, causing Mercy to wince from the noise. She took a deep breath to compose herself and grabbed her staff, turning the healing beam on for a fraction of a second, just enough to heal over the bleeding wound into a bald stump but not a full leg. Sprinkles breathed a sigh of relief as the limb stopped hurting as much. Mercy rubbed the iodine into the stump and repeated the process with the other legs, stopping with every ear splitting scream.
“I thought I’d be used to your screams by now, but I guess not. I want to hear you scream, just not as loudly. Perhaps if I partially damage your vocal cords?”
Sprinkles didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say. All she could do was cry, her tear ducts replenished in her “new” body.
“Now get back into your cage.” She said, gently placing Sprinkles into her just cleaned cage, her stumps all healed out of order, misshapen, and throbbing with a dull, residual pain. “Here’s some kibble. Don’t worry, you’ll have your Leggies back soon!”
“Fwuffy can hab weggies back?? Yay!”
“No, not yet. Only good fluffies get their legs back!”
Sprinkles looked down and sobbed at the ground. “Huuu…”
Mercy grabbed the old corpse and nearly severed legs, and used a knife to separate the fur from its tissues. She then placed 4 of the legs in one Ziploc bag filled with with cool water and kosher salt, and used another bag for the other 4. She left them in her fridge for 12 hours to brine the “leggies”.
“My hypothesis is that Once the legs are brined it would be easy to remove the hoof and bake with a honey glaze until the meat thermometer read 74 degrees. The result will hopefully be a tasty, renewable meat product!”
“Huu….” Sprinkles sobbed quietly. Her legs were gone, but at least she still had her horn and wings. And it’s not like she was going anywhere anyways, she thought, trying to hold on to some semblance of hope.
Dedicated to @infraredturbine , I know you’re not logging onto the site anymore but if you see this I’d love to commission you one last time.
Note that all temperatures in this series will be in Celsius as Mercy is from Switzerland where this story takes place. 74 C = 165 F, the standard temperature that meat like chicken and beef needs to be cooked for safety. Due to the shitty and bloody conditions most fluffies are kept in, this temperature might need to be higher.