Erik exited his bedroom and made his way through the apartment to his coffee maker, dumping a scoop of foalgers into the basket and switching it on before turning his attention to the enclosure on the window sill.
All four sides were covered in a thick layer of humidity, making it impossible to see inside from where he stood. Walking over and taking it from the ledge, Erik moved back to the table where he’d been playing with his toys the night before.
Pouring himself a cup of foalgers with mares milk (cow milk was damn near $30 a gallon these days while mares milk was nearly free) Erik sat down and popped off the top, looking inside to see what the heat/sunlight had done all day while he was out with Sam on another culling job.
The 4-inch thick nutrigel had shrunk down to a murky inch thick layer, the water all but gone from the gel as it was more of a thick rubbery paste, pop was on his back on the litter side, a white foam surrounding its little face as its chest moved up and down rapidly, its tiny legs shivering from cramps.
Meanwhile kernel had made herself at home in a slightly more moist area of the dried gel, her 4 foals(?) now the same size as her as they moved about and played in the dried crater left behind by evaporation. A 5th, smaller body was missing its head as the dead foal sat atop the litter pile, looking like they painted themselves in the blood to escape heatstroke.
Erik filled a cup with ice-water from the sink and began using the dropper to wet pop , who after the 3rd pipette began to scream and try to right itself to get away from the water. Its craming muscles making the micro overshoot its roll and end up on its back again where Erik took the chance to ice-water its little lumps.
Its entire body went rigid as it let out one long speeeeeeee!!! before passing out again. Erik turned his attention to kernel and her 4 foals…no at this point thy’re just her offspring, one orange one purple a green one and finally a yellow.
Erik frowned, this is exactly how it fucking happens. Micros can breed up to 8 foals in a litter and those offspring reach breeding age in just 3 days. If he did’nt fix this they’d either starve to death or escape the tank most likely.
Looking over at the wax polish, he sighed and instead reached for the air freshener. Maybe next time he messed up a feral he’d use it instead, but this was just progressing too fast and he didnt want to risk them infesting his apartment.
Unscrewing the plastic cap from the wick, the smell of fake pumpkin spice bitchslapped him in the face as his nose began to run and his eyes watered. “Mother of Mary thats a powerful one!” Erik turned his head away and quickly dropped the glass bulb into the container, crushing the lower half of pop before rolling off and to the side.
kernel and her kin already vomiting and screaming as Erik dropped a large cookbook on top to seal in the stink. After blowing his nose and washing his hands, Erik sat back at the table and watched as pop was beating its hooves against the litter, its head to the side as vomit flowed out.
Kernel was burying her face in the moist gel, a small pool of vomit forming at its hooves as her offspring were on their backs, having already drowned in their own sick in a matter of seconds. Erik sat back and lit a cigarette, his gaze shifting back and forth between the two upchucking micros with a focused glare.
Eventually, pop turned its head up to the ceiling and drowned in its still flowing sick in about 3 seconds immediately followed by kernel starting to seize. The micro danced about in jerky motions, its eyes bugging out and biting its own tongue off before falling face first into its mess and drowning as well.
Erik took a deep draw of his cigarette before giving every micro one last look-over to be sure. With a deep sigh, he grabbed the container in his hand and stood from the table, walking over to the sink one final time and fishing the small bodies out of the tank.
Dropping them one by one down into the disposal, Erik filled the enclosure with 3 inches of water and held it up to his eyes. After 6 seconds or so, he could see the remaining micros from kernels last litter float out of hiding and drown in the shit/gel/water slurry.
Dumping it all down the drain, Erik flipped on the disposal to the count of 15 before rinsing the enclosure one final time and throwing it in the garbage.
Fuck Micros.
The End 