prequel(?) of He’s Coming about Berry’s backstory.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
Yes.
“Speak.”
“Y-yes.”
The hand-held camera in front of him moves.
“Strong, resilient, a very obedient unicorn. Cranberry coat, russet muscat mane. Potty-trained. He responds to Berry.”
The woman holding the camera moves around him in a slow circle, capturing every angle of his fur. The sharp click and clack of her high-heels resonate throughout the empty holding cell.
“Bred especially for hurting purposes. Watch.”
The lady’s gloved hands unfurl, revealing a small scalpel. Before Berry can react, she strikes like a cobra, inflicting a light gash across his back.
Berry flinches and grits his teeth, but doesn’t yell out in pain. She wouldn’t like it if he did.
“Buyers, if you’re interested, he’s available for claiming at the set price of eight hundred- no more, no less. First come first served.”
The computer in the middle of the room lets out a soft ping. The woman smiles.
“Looks like we already have a buyer. Until next time, then.”
The camera clicks off, and the woman moves swiftly towards the monitor.
Out of the corner of his eyes, Berry spies on the messages. He’s not supposed to do this, but he can’t deny his curiosity.
Is he still available?
Yes.
Good. I’ll send the money soon. Your breeding den never ceases to amaze.
We thank you for your continuous support. We hope you’ll be able to provide him a suitable home.
Of course. It’ll be very suitable for a gem like him.
Berry shudders. Mommy is a nasty, nasty woman. He’s glad he’s getting out of here to somewhere warmer, not this miserably cramped hell hole.
Two days later, his new owner shows up. He has burgundy hair and a charming smile, the corners of his eyes decorated with little gold stars. He wears a simple blue and white plaid jacket over a white tee, his neck a mess of necklaces and accessories coming in all shapes and sizes.
What is that on his wrist?
…is that a unicorn horn wristband?
Berry shakes his head. He must be imagining things. Daddy looks like a nice man- he wouldn’t be that cruel and evil.
He’s getting placed inside another cage. This one’s temporary- he’ll be free once he arrives at Daddy’s house.
He prays that Daddy isn’t some sort of monster like Mommy. He hopes that Daddy won’t use him to snuff out his cigarettes or let his children yank on his fur till it rips and knots. Maybe Daddy has a nice, cozy house, and he doesn’t tempt fluffies with fake spaghetti that ends up being worms coated in a mare’s blood and meat.
It’s been a long ride, and he’s now in Daddy’s house. It’s dead silent. Daddy kicks off his shoes and takes off his glasses to clean.
“Berry,” he says, his voice deep. “That’s your name, right?”
“Yes, mistah…”
“Hm. You’re a good find.”
Berry is left confuzzled as Daddy leaves him alone after that. He’s dumped all by himself in the backyard, sitting in a patch of fake, scratchy grass, the spiky tips digging into his hind like uncomfortable pinpricks of needles against skin.
Nothing out of the ordinary happens after two days, three days. He’s being fed fresher kibble. The water doesn’t taste like piss, and his food bowl is free from blood stains and saliva marks.
On the fourth day, Daddy does something nice. He gives Berry a can of expired spaghetti.
Berry doesn’t mind. He’s never eaten proper spaghetti before- expired or not, it’s still food. He munches down on it faster than ever and promptly throws up later due to over-eating.
Daddy cleans it up without a word.
On day seven, something strange happens.
Daddy approaches him. He doesn’t have his normal aura- cold, calculating, immensely indifferent. This time, Daddy has a look of predatory sadism on every corner of his features. If Berry stares just a little harder, he swears he sees hellish pools of magma inside those jewel-black eyes, bubbling beneath the surface, rising inch by inch to consume and burn like dogs out to feed.
Daddy grins, canines glinting. He reaches out and grabs Berry by the waist, and Berry feels his uncut nails digging into his side.
“It hab owies! Owie!” Berry whimpers as Daddy continues to manhandle him. Daddy ignores his protests and heads to the door he’s forbidden from nearing, way in the back of the kitchen.
Daddy takes out a set of keys from his pockets. He slots it into the door’s lock, and he jiggles the knob open.
There’s a set of imposing stairs resting behind the door. Daddy descends step by step, his unrelenting hand still snaked around Berry’s body.
At the bottom of the stairs are rows of cages laying atop the chipped concrete floor. Berry freezes, vision swimming as he feels his breaths come out labored and wheezy.
“Wh-whu…”
“How do you feel about this?” Daddy asks, voice husky. Berry refocuses his vision. There are fluffies inside those cages, bodies limp but alive, breathing shallow and strained.
“B-Bewwy no undewstand…”
“If you don’t listen to me, that’ll happen to you. You got it?”
“Huu… Bewwy- Bewwy get it-”
“It’s called punishment. And you don’t like that, right?”
“Bewwy no wike punishment…”
“Good. Then you should learn to do what I want you to do.”
Berry turns his tear-stained gaze upwards to look at Daddy.
He’s unrecognizable.
A demon. A demon’s replaced him.
“Now, let’s get learning.”
Or maybe… maybe Daddy was like this all along.
…
…
…
He’s better than Mommy, at least.