Cannibal Care, Part 1 (By: Ryou)

So, this is an old story that I’d been kicking around for a while now, but never quite finding the time to post it because there were a few things I wanted to patch up first. I was also hesitant to post new content while the site was in transit because it seemed really unprofessional to go ahead and do that while many people couldn’t properly access the site.

With the biggest hurdles out of the way, I feel a bit more at ease to post something. The story has about two more parts pre-written, but I didn’t want to post it all in one go. The next parts are going to be released as soon as I feel like they are also up to snuff in terms of quality.

Also, I realize that there’s still several unfinished stories I have to wrap up at some point, and I’m hoping to be able to combine them to a bigger universe at some point, if I can find the time for it.

In the meantime, hope y’all enjoy.

Carelessy you watch as your boss, Bob, grabs the two fluffies by their scruff and throw them into your makeshift arena. They yelp at the rough treatment, you think one broke their leg on impact, but Bob doesn’t care about that. Two earthies, male, with bad colors that nobody will miss, though they won’t need good colors for where they’re going.

“huu, weggie hab’ bigges’ huwties, daddeh!”
“wai daddeh be meanies tu fwuffies? am gud fwuffies!”
“Listen up. You’ll be living in this ditch for the next couple days. There’s fresh water over there, but you’re not getting any more food. If you want to survive, you’ll have to eat each other.”, yells Bob.
Shocked, with an expression of horror painted across their little fluffy faces, they instantly recoiled at the mere thought.
“w-wha?! fwuffy nu wan’ huwties fwen! am gud fwuffy!”
"huu… huwties… wan’ huwties… tu go ‘way, huu… daddeh nu wub’ fwuffy nu mowe…

Without so much as a response he turns around, leaving the room. You follow him, turn the corner, which leads you to a door that connects the hallway to the monitoring room. This is a fancy way of describing a relatively barren room with a computer inside that you both use to watch the fluffies.

Two whole weeks the both of you have been at it, having absolutely nothing to show for it. You didn’t expect fast results, these things take time and you know that. Nevertheless, Bob’s patience was running thin, if this attempt proved no results, much like the last one, he’d have to seriously rethink your entire approach.

“weggie… wai weggie nu wowk nu mowe? huu… bigges’ huwties…”
“it am otay, fwen, fwuffy gib’ huggies fow maek huwties gu’ 'way”
You watched the two fluffies embrace each other, seemingly oblivious to what he just told them. No matter, if they wanted to avoid starvation, they had to eat each other, it was only a question of when they’d give in.

“You know, I just feel like there’s a better way to go about this, Bob.”
He turns to face you, raising an eyebrow.
“I highly doubt it… but tell you what, Steve. If this batch fails, we’ll try something new, and you get to pick the procedure.”
“Deal.”, you retort.

The next day, both of you turn on the computer once more to check up on the creatures. You see that during your absence, they’ve excreted the rest of their bowels all over their cage, as the corners of it were stained with shit. Expected, but never any less gross to witness. Looks like they’ve recently awoken and are beginning to understand their situation more aptly now.

“huu, weggie stiww huwties… an’ fwuffy hab’ tummeh huwties, how fwuffy gon’ fin’ nummies? nu wan num fwuffy fwen…”
“fwuffy nu kno’… hab’ tummeh huwties tuu…”

Their beady little eyes darted across the room, scanning it for any form of nutrition. They tried licking the floor a couple times, only to find out that it was made out of solid concrete. Eventually, their eyes wandered toward the corners of the room, where they’d previously defecated.

“if… if tummeh huwties am tuu big, fwuffies hab’ tu num poopies…”
“huu, nu wan’ num’ poopies agen, nu wike poopies…”
“fwuffy kno’, poopies am wowstes’ nummies… bu’ poopies maek tummeh huwties gu’ 'way…”

Really? They’d rather resort to eating poop? The last specimens didn’t do that, you both hadn’t even considered that an option, but didn’t supervise the selection, so Bob was likely careless in his selection this time, probably grabbing fluffies that had previously been considered “poopies”. As such, they were used to eating feces and knew it would do in a pinch. It’s an unfortunate setback that will drag the experiment on, but feces won’t sustain them forever.

Another day passes, and you return to what you had presumed would happen. One of the fluffies was slowly licking poop off the floor, crying all the while. You found shit gross enough as is, you really didn’t want to watch some rat eat it, but alas, this is what you’re paid for.

“blergh! fwuffy nu wike num poopies, nu taste pwetty… wan’ kibbow…”
“fwuffy kno’… bu’ hab’ tu be stwong… meanie daddeh nu gib’ kibbow tu fwuffies nu mowe…”

You watch the pathetic creatures take turn in swallowing poop for what feels like an aeon, after which they roll up into a small ball next to each other, continuously sobbing throughout the process.

“weggie stiww gib’ huwties tu fwuffy?”
“yus… bu’ huwties nu su bad wen gid’ huggies fwom fwen…”
“fwuffy awways gib’ huggies tu fwen… ‘ou am fwuffy bestes’ fwen… fwuffy wub’ 'ou”
coo… fwuffy wub’ 'ou tuu…”

You can’t help but feel sad for these fluffies. In truth, you took on this job to make a genuine difference in the world as a researcher, but the reality of the situation is that fluffies are low value and considered vermin by most standards, they are no better than ordinary lab rats, and likewise, get treated as such. Bob notices your sad expression, and can’t help but chuckle.

Another day, another sad display. Nothing particularly interesting happens all day, most of it is spent eating what little poop remained smeared on the floor and hugging. They’ve begun to develop feelings for one another after being forced to spend all their time in this hellhole together, which is the exact opposite of what you were hoping for. You could tell they were getting weaker, too, their ribs were clearly visible and their movements had overall slowed down significantly. They weren’t going to last much longer.

“tank 'ou fow nu num fwuffy…”
“fwuffy am siwwy, wai wud fwuffy num bestes’ fwen?”

Their little chat was interrupted by the loud growling of their rumbling bellies.

“huu… fwuffy hab’ wowstes’ tummeh huwties…”
“fwuffy kno… bu’ it am otay, fwuffies gu tu skettiwand suun…”
“fwuffy nebah hab skettis befowe… wan skettis…”

“They’ve gotta be at their breaking point”, Bob remarks.
You disagree, you have a feeling you know where this is going.

The next morning greeted you both with two starved fluffy corpses. After seeing their behavior, ultimately it was of no surprise to you.

“Dammit! We were so close, I tell you. They were like, right about to do it.”, Bob exclaims, slightly upset.
“So… I get to do the next one?”, you ask.
“Yeah, fine. A deal’s a deal. You get to do this one. Can’t mess it up any worse than this, right? Haha. But you’re on cleaning duty today, so first, grab a bucket.”

You’d have thanked them both for cleaning the poop up for you, though unfortunately they deemed it appropriate to release their bowels one final time before leaving. You lift up their scrawny little bodies and throw them into the refurbished incinerator. In all honesty, that incinerator had been the best purchase you’ve ever made.

Granted, you didn’t pay for it with your own money, it was company money, though it was still you who ultimately made the purchase, and the recommendation. Previously, you’d thrown out fluffies into the bio-bin outside, neighboring stores and customers would oftentimes complain about the stench that emanated, since it wasn’t emptied daily, but it sure filled up quickly. And at the end of the day, it just wasn’t a very ethical way to dispose of them.

After the bodies were taken care off, you give the entire cage a good scrub before the next candidates arrive. Though this time, you’d get the chance to try something new.

You flick on the light switch and are immediately greeted with a varied array of voices shouting “daddeh” at you. Donning your most convincing smile, you enter the room.

“daddeh! fwuffy miss 'ou su much!”
“daddeh bwing mowe nummies fow fwuffies? tank 'ou daddeh!”
“yaaay, daddeh is back!”
“Hey guys, sorry, busy day today… yeah, I have your kibble right here.”
“wub’ 'ou daddeh! tank 'ou fow keep fwuffies safe!”

You walk through the room and fill up all the bowls with kibble. Installing an auto-feeder would be easy and not particularly costly, however you prefer to do things manually. The little bit of personal touch combined with the illusion under which you entrap these creatures makes you feel ever so slightly better about the operation. Your boss doesn’t get it, but he also doesn’t mind it, so long as you do your job.

“daddeh? mebbeh twy tu wet out fwuffy agen today?”
“Oh, of course buddy. Here, let me try…”

You grab onto the hatch that secures the fluffy inside the cage and gently pull on it, pretending to pull with all your might. To anyone but a fluffy, it would be obvious you’re only pretending. You grunt, act exhausted, and turn to face the fluffy again.

“I’m so sorry, darling. Daddy can’t get your sorry box open, the human magic is too strong…”
You can almost see her heart sink again, after watching you try to open her cage, she had begun hoping today might be the day she gets to go outside, but alas, that was not her fate.

“huu… it otay daddeh… tank ‘ou fow twyin’…”
You spend another couple minutes repeating the same act at different cages. It’s all you can do for them, really. You know you’re not allowed to release them, but you want them to know that you would if you could.
“is otay, daddeh! fwuffy jus’ happeh to gid nummies!”

Suddenly, an idea began forming in your head. You looked around the room once more. The green earthy with the red mane… the black maned blue unicorn… and maybe the mono-yellow pegasus? You shudder as you realize the absolute cruelty of the plan at hand, but this way at least two of them could find a modicum of happiness. It was a better prospect than most others could hope for. A small sacrifice to pay, in the grand scheme of things. You pretend to pull even harder, and after a modicum of force, the hatch opens up and the blue fluffy is free.

“Oof… that really took a lot out of me, but I managed to get it open…”
“fwuffy am fwee!! tank ‘ou daddeh! nao can gib’ huggies and wub’!”
You pat the stallion for a moment and repeated the same act for the green one.
“weawwy? fwuffy can weabe nao? tank 'ou daddeh!”
“Sorry guys, that’s about all the sorry boxes I can open today, but I’ll be back soon to try again, okay?”

After a deflated, though hopeful chorus of goodbyes, you leave with two new fluffies in tow. You had quite a bit of preparation to take care of, but you’d make sure that this was going to work.

Part 2:


man making a Fluffy a Cannibal is such a neat idea! Cant wait to read more!