“This used to be a nice neighbourhood!”
A heavyset bald man proclaims as he slams his foot down against the ground, sandwiching the skull of a light pink fluffy along with the hoof of an unlucky grey pegasus.
The sound is gutteral and sends the dozens of other shitrats into a panic.
“Nuuu! Bestest toughie!”
A small orange fluffy begins running towards the remains of the pink fluffy, the fluffy stomper grins as he prepares to score a field goal with the orange fluff’s head.
Unfortunately for him another fluffy bites into his scruff and drags him away, babbling and stammering. The pain and misery in its voice brings a sadistic grin to your face.
“Well, that takes care of that, I don’t know why you brought me here Chad, I thought there might be more”
You turn to your compatriot, trying to wipe off the buts of fluffy blood and guts staining your hands.
“I thought you liked killing 'em shitrats”
Chad says with a smirk, now wiping his boots in the grass.
“And I though you actually liked those, things”
You reply, standing now satisfied that whats left on your hands will take more than grass to get off.
“It’s naht because I like some of 'em that I love 'em all. Jus like people”
Chad’s Georgian accent is thick but quite endearing you find, you’ve even began adopting some of it subconsciously by spending so much time with him.
“Fair point” you reply “Now how’s about we go back inside and finish that game, eh?”
Instead of a comical reply Chad simply looks out to the edge of his property, his face is always stern but you’ve never seen him like this, he’s squinting so hard his forehead is practically twitching.
“They still there?”
You move as close as you can to Chad and sure enough as you follow his gaze, at the edge of his property, just before the road you can make out the assortment of dull fuzzbals you presume to be the survivors of your slaughter.
“They aint budging…somethin’s scaring them…”
You turn to give the obvious answer but Chad continues as if he never stopped
“Third herd dis week, an third to stop right dere…it don’t make no sense”
Using the zoom on your phone you’re able to get a better look at the remnants of the herd, there’s still more than a dozen and they’re all still visibly upset. However you don’t see a smarty barking orders or tougies guarding the three pregnant mares. Instead the mares and foals are closest to you mostly hugging and crying. The orange fluffy from earlier is hugging a very upset dirty white fluffy. At the back, nearest to the road are the seemingly biggest fluffies, who are all watching the forest across from the road, even they seem on edge reacting to every noise like the distant roar of somebody’s poorly tuned shitbox or the sudden sneeze from Chad which even caused you to jump a little.
“…That’s really strange…I’ve culled a lot of herds, but never, not in the most desperate of situations of worst of smarties have I ever seen a herd place the mares closest to me…”
“Ion know if the others did that”
Chad takes your phone and begins observing the fluffies, while you peer out to the forest even though you wont see any better without a zoom
“Them abominations dat hurt limestone…dey weren’t actin like dis. I nearly turned my turf red before dey scrammed. Dese look like dey 'fraid to go back dere”
You didn’t pay attention during the massacre but there are only three bodies here. In fact you couldn’t call it a massacre, only a new formed herd would retreat after loosing three fluffies. And unlike other ones there weren’t any insults, anger or threats of revenge just anguish and fear.
“Somefin out dere is scaring dese shits, scarin 'em so bad they rather get stomped than go back”
Chad hands you back your phone and you both begin walking back to his house.
“Whoever they are, they must be a real messiah of abuse. I’d love to know what they do to have them this frightened”
You think of who could possibly be capable of such a stunt, putting just enough fear in those tiny brains without breaking them. That takes an uncanny amount of knowledge about fluffies, an understanding of the very limits of their psychology.
You’ve read stories of an abuser like no other, that had an uncanny amount of knowledge about fluffies both physically and mentally. Joe Magnolia was it? Something along those lines.
Quick lore note
Thanks to BFM for letting me mention the iconic Dr. Mongola however I failed to take into account that this story takes place in the days leading up to the fall of Cleveland while Josef Mongola’s first recorded encounter with a fluffy happened well after, as his brother’s fugitive status implies.
As he walks up the porch stairs Chad looks back at the forest and then at you.
“It ain’t a person Ellis, people been reporting more n more invasions around the outskirts, an you fuck with those things, you ever seen any behave like this?”
You’re not a fluffy psychiatrist by any means but your penchant on emotional over physical abuse has given you a decent insight as to what makes those walking turds tick.
“I don’t frighten 'em Chad, I only hurt their putrid little hearts and mess with their heads…”
You look at the remainder of the herd, despite not being able to make out more than the general shape you feel a presence, like they are watching you, somehow.
“The few I have scared…they dont look at ya. They think that by covering their eyes, they’re safe. Object permanence and all that”
Chad sighs and opens his front door, his fluffy; Mary comes trotting up to him but refrains from hugging his leg.
“Daddeh hab boo-boo juice? Am daddeh hab huwties?”
“Nah, it aint no thang. Go play with your toys pumpkin il let ya know when chows ready”
“Okeh daddeh”
The light blue unicorn makes cute little hops to her room, like the ponies did in that show fluffies are based off.
“I hate keepin 'er cooped up like this but if them herds keep coming I can’t take her outside…”
You both stare out the window towards the forest, a previously mundane landform now being synonymous for an ominous presence.
“I definitely can’t leave her alone if whatever scared those herds is still out there. Something ain’t right with all this, I feel it in my gut”
“Did you want me to go take a look? If it left survivors then it can’t possibly be that strong”
“It’s fine brotha, if this keeps repeating il have the city or something look into it. Lets go finish our game”
And so you return to his sofa, resigning these strange events to be nothing more than coincidences or the work of a particularly dedicated abuser.
That being said you can’t shake your curiosity from running wild in the back of your mind. If it was an abuser, why leave survivors? Are they trying to spread fear in the local populace? Maybe increase the number of lawn invasions to get people hooked on the thrill of killing a talking, crying and shitting creature?
Or is Chad right in his assumption that it’s not human. Supernatural perhaps? Maybe a non carnivorous species has forced them out?
Who can say? All thats for sure is you’re excitedly awaiting for an answer.
a dangerous predator?