In all his years on this earth, Jonathan Mongola had taught himself to be wary of certain things; dark alleys on moonless nights, the outline of a pistol holster beneath a jacket, police officers in the seedy parts of town, men who shaved themselves bald.
But nothing gave him more cause for concern, then when he walked into the prison visitation room and saw his brother Josef grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“What the fuck have you done?”
“John, I’m hurt. Can a man not be happy to see his brother?”
“You’re smiling, Mongola’s don’t smile. Now tell me what the fuck you’ve done or I’m walking.”
“Ok, ok. Sit down for Christ sake and I’ll tell you.”
Jonathan eyed his brother for a moment, trying to figure out what he was doing, but he relented and sat down, happy that the Mongola fortune, as ill-gained as it was, greased the wheels enough to allow the siblings some face-to-face time.
Once Jonathan was sat down, Josef pulled out an envelope, by the looks of thing it had already been opened – likely by the guards to check for contraband – but whatever was inside was still there. Jonathan took the envelope and reached inside, he pulled out a card with the words ‘Happy Anniversary’ written on the front.
“Joey, the fuck is this?”
“What?” Josef asked with a snigger. “Don’t you like it?”
“I don’t GET it.”
“It’s your anniversary. Today is one year since you were tried and sentenced for the deaths of Fitzgerald and Vivienne Mongola, our shitty parents.”
“You got me a card, celebrating that I’ve been in prison for a year now?”
“Yeah?”
“…You’re fucking nuts Joey.”
Jonathan gave a hearty laugh as he tossed the card back and Josef, the brothers sharing in some much needed joy.
“Jesus, has it really been a year?”
Josef nodded. “Yep, time flies when you’re having fun.”
“Don’t start. If it wasn’t for the news on the lunch-hall TV I’d forget what fucking day it is.”
Josef chuckled but Jonathan could tell there was something else on his mind.
“What’s up?”
“You mind if I ask you something, semi-serious?”
“Shoot.”
“Now that you’ve had a year to think about it, do you regret it, killing Fitz and Viv?”
Jonathan paused and pondered for a moment, trying to think of the best way to word his answer.
“Honestly… I do wish things had been different, that I didn’t have to have killed them, that it never got to the point where that was an option. But since it did, no, I don’t regret killing them, dad especially. Christ there are days where I think I should’ve just taken the murder in the first charge and fucking dragged his death out, he died slow Joey but not nearly slow enough for what he put us through.”
“He’s dead John, he can’t hurt us anymore.”
“No, he still hurts me on a daily basis, but that’s my burden and I’ll deal with it.”
“Speaking of burdens, I still got Rolfy’s letter.”
“You do”
“Yeah, hung up in my basement, figured I could put it somewhere I can see it every day. And don’t worry, it’s high up so no chance of blood stains… only MINOR chance of bloodstains.”
“That’s good to hear, that you have it, not that you’ve got it in your Buffalo Bill Basement…”
“Funny, that’s what Kat called it as well.”
“…I’m still not sure if I can give it up yet, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to give it up. Knowing it’s safe with you helps a lot.”
“I’ll hold onto it as long as you need, I find myself reading it now and again, I know for you it’s still fresh but I can’t believe how long ago Cleveland was.”
“Lots changed for you, you were in High School when it happened, now look at you, a sort of doctor.”
“Hey the doctorate is real John, I can’t use it anywhere but I’m still a doctor. Anyway, Rolfy’s letter got me thinking and… I still find it funny that Fluffies were what finally made one of us snap and kill dad.”
“What? No they weren’t.”
“Sure they were, if Fluffies didn’t blow up Cleveland then you wouldn’t be so emotionally fucked up as you are now, Fitz wouldn’t have exploited that and you wouldn’t have gone trigger-happy on him.”
Jonathan rolled his eyes. “That’s a bit of an oversimplification Joey, that’s like saying the US dropped nukes on Japan because a Serbian wanted a sandwich. It’s technically true but it lacks a lot of fucking context.”
“God did prison confiscate your sense of fun as well?”
“Eat shit.”
“Bite me.”
The brothers laughed again, both of them missing this sense of playful fun they could share, but trauma, hatred and miscommunication had driven them apart for too long.
Jonathan reached over and placed a hand on Josef’s shoulder. “Joey, I know that I’ve not been the best big brother, and I know I can’t blame everything on our shitty family. But I’m glad you’re here, even being stuck in this place for a year it’s good to know I can rely on you.”
“Always John, you know that.”
The two brothers reached over and hugged each other, both of them wishing for that statement to be a lot truer than their hearts said it was.
Jonathan ducked under the crime scene tape and walked inside, now that he was inside it suddenly hit him that this was the first time he’d ever been in this house.
And Josef wasn’t there to welcome him.
Taking a deep breath, Jonathan slowly walked deeper into Josef’s house, his brother had only been dead a few months but already the house looked like a mausoleum, the shut-off electricity darkened every corner where the moonlight couldn’t reach. The broken windows and smashed doors to air out weeks worth of Fluffy shit aged the modern home by a considerable amount, and the horrendously stained floor made the whole place feel abandoned.
Jonathan tried to imagine what it would’ve looked like in its prime, but all he could see was blood. The white outline of where Josef’s body was found was still taped to the floor, it hurt Jonathan to think of his brother bleeding out, dying alone, betrayed by the woman he loved.
Katherine would get what she deserved in time, right now Jonathan had more important things on his mind.
Ignoring the decay, Jonathan headed down to the basement, almost instantly he had to hold his breath as the stench of decay was overpowering. Some of Josef’s last experiments had died down here and hadn’t been cleaned up yet, left to rot like the rest of the house.
Jonathan reached the bottom and started looking, thankfully it didn’t take him long to find what he was after. Just like Josef had told him, framed and hung up on the wall, was Rolfy’s letter, the final letter Jonathan ever received from his son, the only letter he had left of his family.
Taking the letter out of the frame, Jonathan folded it up and placed it in his pocket. Satisfied that he had everything he needed, Jonathan went back upstairs, ready to disappear back into the night… when something caught his eye. Out in the back garden, just barely noticeable except in a brief glimpse, Jonathan swore he saw something bright red.
Bright, crimson red.
“No fucking way.”
Curious, and a little bit scared that he was going mad, Jonathan went to investigate. As he opened the backdoor he saw for certain that there was a Fluffy in the garden, a bright red Pegasus with an orange mane, sitting and looking at Crimson’s gravestone, as well as the two others next to it that Jonathan didn’t recognise.
Jonathan didn’t want to accept Fluffy Ghosts in his life, but he had to know.
“Crimson?”
“AH!”
The Fluffy jumped and turned around, staring daggers at Jonathan.
“Nu du sneekies yu dummeh fuk. Gib Scawwett chesty huwties.”
“Sorry, sorry it’s just… well I know the guy that used to live here, you looked EXACTLY like his Fluffy so I had to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.”
“Yu knyo Cwimson?”
“Sort of, he was my brother’s pet… I guess that’s you could call him. I met him a couple of times, seemed ok, as far as Fluffies go. How do you know him?”
“Scawwett neba meet Cwimson, bu knyo he am Scawwett daddeh. Heaw wots bout him, how he big meanie, how he gib bad enfies an foweba sweepies fow fun, how he num udda Fwuffies.”
“Yeah, I remember that about him. Sorry you got such a shitty dad, I know what that’s like.”
“Wha? Nu, dem am GUD fings, Scawwett am jus wike dat, Scawwett am meanie, Scawwet gib foweba sweepies fow fun, Scawwett num udda Fwuffies, Scawwett… ok Scawwet nu gib many bad enfies cos nu hab nu-nu stick bu wan tu.”
Jonathan chuckled, this was Crimson’s daughter alright.
“Ok, if you never met Crimson, how did you find this place?”
“Tawk tu udda Fwuffies, Cwimson weave big impweshun, find dis homesie an smeww Cwimson awound, smeww wike Scawwett. Suks tu find hew awweady foweba sweepies, neba meet udda Fwuffy wike Scawwett, wan tawkies tu him, hab sumwun who undastan.”
“I know the feeling, my brother was the only one who knew what I’ve went through, he’s… he’s dead now, and I’m still trying to come to terms with that.”
“Scawwett sowwy tu heaw dat. How he gu?”
“He was killed, by his special-fwiend.”
“Oh. Dat suk wumps.”
Despite himself, Jonathan chortled. “Yeah, it does suck lumps.”
Scarlett opened her mouth to ask something, then thought better of it, then went to try it again.
“Can nice mistah teww Scawwett wha gwave am Cwimson’s? Scawwett nu can wead.”
“Sure, it’s this one, in the middle.”
“Fank yu, Scawwett wan say bye tu daddeh bu nu knyo wha wun his. Wha nice mistah gun du nyo?”
“I’m probably gonna rest up for a bit, I just got back from helping out my friend Ted with a Smarty herd, we didn’t leave thing on the best terms, I… kinda lost myself a little bit, a lot of things were said between us, some of it needed to be said a long time ago, some of it shouldn’t have been said at all.”
“Pfftth, Scawwett hate Smawty hewds, bunch of wittew duk dummehs.”
“Tell me about it. But after that, I’m going to see about a job, got an opening with an exterminator company.”
“Extewmeh-wha?”
“Exterminator, basically they go in and deal with pests, mostly taking on Fluffy herds these days.”
“Sound wike fun, du nice mistah wan take Scawwett wiv him?”
Jonathan’s face dropped. “I’m not sure that’s the best idea, I’ve got a lot of trauma around Fluffies, it’s something I’m still trying to get my head around. It might not be the best thing for me to have a pet.”
“Den nu fink of Scawwett as pet, fink of Scawwett as toow, yu yoose Scawwett tu hewp hunt Fwuffies fow Ex-tew-meh-nay-tow an Scawwett hab nestie an nummies. Nice mistah nu eben need git kibbew, Scawwett jun num Fwuffies.”
Jonathan thought about it, on the one hand he still have a vitriolic hatred for Fluffies and everything they stood for, on the other he remembered what Ted had told him about misplacing his hatred, and this short chat he’d had with Scarlett had gone a long way to proven Ted right.
“Ok, we’ll try it out just for a short while, if it doesn’t work I’ll find you a good place to stay.”
“YAY, fank yu nice mistah, Scawwett pwomise be gud Ex-tew-meh…”
“Just say Fluffy Killer.”
“Ok, be gud Fwuffy Kiwwa.”
Happy that their partnership had been confirmed, Jonathan turned and led Scarlett out through the front of the house.
“One more thing, you gotta stop calling me ‘nice mistah’.”
“Well wha yu wan Scawwett caww yu? Nu gun caww yu daddeh.”
“Thank God, no just call me Jonathan, or John if that’s too much.”
“Jon, ok, Scawwett wike dat, yu Jon, am Scawwett, togetha we best Fwuffy Kiwwas awound.”
Jonathan laughed as the two of them disappeared into the night, they would be the best Fluffy Killers around.
And he couldn’t wait to prove it.
So, today has officially been one full year since I posted my first story to Fluffy Community, and I’m honestly surprised that the creative spark hasn’t died out yet. But the originality of the creators and the friendliness of the people here have been fantastic to follow and I’m happy to have found this niche group of mad bastards.
Originally this was just going to be the first half as a meta joke about being trapped her for a year, but I saw the opportunity to tie some stories together and leave hints about where I’m going forward. Jonathan will factor heavily in the coming year as his story starts to unfold, I’ll also try to add more in to Before The Storm and most likely I’ll start a million other stories and never finish them.
But hey, I haven’t written this much since high-school so I’m happy to keep churning these out. Here’s to our second year together.
then again going as an exterminator would indeed gave Jonathan a conduit of his anger.