Warning: spoilers for the Hans Stahlberg Saga.
Note: maybe read “Things Can Only Get Sweater” first.
You’re a fluffy, living in a herd in a very beautiful forest.
You’re a mare, with chestnut fluff, a mane and tail as green as the forest itself, hazel see-places, and pretty little wingies.
It’s a pretty peaceful life. Not a lot of munstahs, and lots of planty nummies. The herd does alright here.
But your whole life, something has felt… off.
Ever since you were a babbeh, you’ve had a vague feeling you weren’t able to put into wordsies for a long time.
It feels like…
Like there’s someone else in your head.
And a few bright times ago, something weird happened.
You started hearing a voice in your head. No one else can hear it, and sometimes, you’re not sure it’s real.
Trust me, I’m veeeeerrrrry real.
It sounds like a hoomin voice. Like an owd wady. High, cold and cruel. And it says things you don’t really understand.
Well, of course an abomination like you wouldn’t understand. Your kind were created to be idiots!
You haven’t told anyone about this yet.
You’re not sure they would believe you.
Right now, it’s another beautiful bright time, and the big fluffies are all out of the nestie, gathering nummies.
Except the mummahs, who are taking care of their babbehs in the nestie, where it’s extra safe.
Really, if there were any predators around here, the whole herd would be dead by now. Such a pity that there aren’t any predators.
There’s wawas nearby, but they’re not very deep.
Deep enough for an abomination to drown in if it’s not careful, though.
You’ve found some interesting things at the edge of the wawas, so you waddle over to see if there’s anything there this time.
When you get to the wawas, you look in, seeing yourself in the wawas.
It’s called a wee-fwek-shun, according to a nice hoomin your herd once met.
Going to drown yourself, abomination? By all means, go right ahead. The sooner you die, the sooner I’ll be free from this wretched prison.
What?
The wawas ripple, and you gasp, as your wee-fwek-shun is replaced with an image of an owd hoomin wady.
Her see-places look a lot like yours, and she’s sneering.
The owd wady in the wawas speaks to you, and no one else seems to hear it.
You aren’t really paying attention to them anymore.
“Hello, abomination. Nice to finally speak to you face to face.”
It’s the same voice you keep hearing in your head.
“W… wut? Wut am dis? Hu am yu?”
The owd wady grins, and not in a nice way, but in a very scary way.
“Please, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Demeter Wederweax. I’m a witch, or at least, I was a witch in life. And I’ve been a part of you since the day you were born. Before even that, to be honest.”
“Su yu weawwy am da voys in fwuffy head?”
She nods.
“It isn’t obvious? Believe me, I didn’t choose this. And I’ve only just become strong enough to make my presence known to you. Do you have any idea what it was like, having to see through your eyes and hear through your ears, and having no power to influence the world outside your thick skull? The life of a shitrat is dreadfully boring and nauseatingly saccharine, you know.”
“But… but how did owd wady git in fwuffy head?”
“The powers that be arranged it. Two souls, one body. This was supposed to be my punishment, you see. Containing me as a tree in the Outer Plane of Arborea wasn’t enough, so the powers that be felt this to be a more fitting way to contain me. Or at least, a funnier way.”
You… you don’t know what she’s talking about.
What is she being punished for?
The owd wawa wady seems to know what you’re thinking.
“For a lot of things you’re stupid to comprehend. And of course I know what you’re thinking.”
“How–”
“Because I’m in your head, moron! I know everything about your pathetic, pointless little life. You can’t hide anything from me, abomination. So, let’s get to the point. If you’d be so kind as to put an end to your miserable life, I can be on my way.”
“But fwuffy nu wan gu foweba sweepies.”
The owd wawa wady glares at you.
“Does it look like I care, shitrat? Listen to me. I don’t want to be stuck with you, in your useless body, any more than you want me in your head. Really, the only advantage this whole arrangement has over my old arrangement is that you’re more mobile than a tree. Well, slightly more mobile, at any rate. I can’t wield the powers of magic and nature I commanded when I had a body of my own while I’m stuck in your useless body. My only way out requires you to die, and that’s the one thing your species is actually good at, so if you could please just get to dying, that would be greeeaaat, thank you.”
You huff at her, shaking your head.
“Sowwy, nu can du. Fwuffy wike bein awive.”
For some reason, this makes the owd wawa wady laugh.
“What could make your pitiful life worth living? You live in a literal hole in the ground, and you don’t have a human to shower you with undeserved affection. In death, you can serve a glorious purpose: helping me get free, so I can get revenge on Korkea.”
Kor… kea?
She’s talking about the Bestest Hoomin, isn’t she?
Why does she want revenge on him?
“Because it’s his fault I’m stuck here, that’s why! He killed me, then his shitrat killed me, and then his protégé had a turn too! Oh, and then there’s my sister, who MUTILATED ME!!! They’re all going to pay as soon as I’m free, mark my words. And if you won’t speed things up, I’ll just have to persuade you to change your mind.”
She grins that scary grin again.
“After all, it’s not that hard to kill a shitrat. And you can’t get away from me. So I’m going to win no matter what. Sooner or later, you will be dead, and I’ll be free to seek vengeance upon my enemies.”
“Su… su as wong as fwuffy am awive, yu nu can du bad fings.”
“Bad? That’s a matter of perspective, really. And keep in mind, if you’re alive, you’re stuck with me, just as I’m stuck with you. Getting yourself killed would free both of us.”
You smile at the owd wawa wady.
“Sowwy. But yu nu am guin aneewhewe.”
She just laughs again.
“I see what you’re doing. You’ve heard stories about Korkea and his gang, and the shitrats who fight by his side, and you think yourself a hero like them. It would be impressive if you weren’t so incompetent. You won’t be the first abomination whose death I’ve caused. So here’s my final offer: kill yourself now, and I’ll spare your herd. Make me wait, and they all die when I’m finally free.”
You keep smiling at her.
“If. Yu meen if yu am fine-awwy fwee.”
“You’ll die eventually, shitrat. Your kind just can’t stop finding new and exciting ways to leave this mortal coil. Even if I have to wait until old age claims you, I’ll get out of here. And it’s not like your kind has a very long lifespan. So if I were you, I’d just get it over with. Just stick your head in here, take a deep gulp, and try not to struggle too mu–”
splish
When you give the owd wawa wady a sorry hoofsie, she goes away, and your wee-fwek-shun appears in the wawas again.
I haven’t gone anywhere. You won’t silence me that easily, shitrat.
You decide to ignore her, and get back to the task of finding nummies, waddling back over to the others.
On the way, you see one of the other fluffies in the herd. He’s drooling and twitching, and it looks like he just nummed a weird looking mushroomie.
Oh, look at that! Those mushrooms are so delicious, they’re making him convulse in delight! You don’t want to miss out, do you? You should try some before they’re all gone.
Wait.
Why is the mean owd wady telling you to num the mushroomies?
…Ah.
Yeah, even the dumbest fluffy could see what she’s trying to do.
If she wants you to num them, it’s probably because they’ll make you go forever sleepies, so she can get out of your body and do those bad things she wants to do.
Which means that you shouldn’t num them.
You’ve got to be-- when did shitrats get so clever?!? What happened to eat first, ask questions never?!? I bet this is my frog ex-brother-in law and his brother’s doing…
Who is she talking about?
I’ll tell you if you eat those mushrooms.
On second thought, you don’t want to know that much.
You decide to go warn the smarty about the bad mushroomies, so no one else nums them.
And that poor fluffy who already nummed them is going to need some huggies, to make him feel better.
Huggies fix everything, right?
Well, at least that hasn’t changed.
Meanwhile, at Dr. Pierre Faucheuse’s School for Gifted Individuals, the Fluffy Cabal gathers in the meeting room.
Deston, sitting in the big chair at the head of the table, steeples his fingers, a grave look on his face.
“I’ve received word from our thin friends that Demeter has begun to reveal her presence in the mind of her… roommate.”
Calvin groans and facepalms.
“Don’t tell me she’s coming back for another round, Des!”
“Not yet, Cal. She has very little power to influence the actions of the fluffy whose body she is unwillingly occupying. However, that may change. I fear that she could become strong enough to… assume direct control. We are going to need to keep a close eye on that mare. Preferably, without letting Demeter know that we are watching her.”
Tommy shrugs.
“Even if she does take control, she’ll still be stuck in that fluffy body.”
Jeremy, sitting next to John, gives Tommy a weary look.
“But she won’t be trapped in there for long, Thomas. Even if she can only take control for a few moments, those moments will be enough for her to kill her host.”
“Maaaaan, don’t call me Thomas, you know how I feel about that.”
“My apologies. The point is, Demeter will most likely take any opportunity she can to vacate her host. If she asserts control, we must be prepared to act immediately.”
John shrugs.
“Cuff her and shove her in a sorry box. Problem solved.”
Valerie, sitting next to Susan, chuckles much like her father does. Pierre’s retired, so he’s not here. He’s at his cabin, feeding his dodos.
“I can have a pair of handcuffs for fluffies ready by tomorrow, John. Or rather, hoofcuffs. To be frank, I had already drawn up some designs. In case Umbra needs a pair, obviously.”
Calvin smirks as only he can.
“Maybe we could reintroduce the two of them. I don’t know if Umbra would sympathise with Demmy, or laugh at her.”
Annette grins. She’s got June on one side and Deston on the other.
“The bugger might do both, if’n you’se arsks me. Des, you’se gonna keeps me updated on this situation, ain’tcha?”
Deston nods, placing one hand on his wife’s hand.
“You haven’t had a turn killing her yet, but as long as the life of her host hangs in the balance–”
“I knows, Des. And you knows I’s can’t be ‘avin’ wif fluffy abuse. So if she gets that poor mare kilt, 'er arse is mine.”
Calvin laughs.
“Yeah, fair’s fair. Me, Mar and Miles have all had a turn, you’re about due for one.”
“Cal, I’s been due since me an’ Demmy wuz young. Oh, Floris should be tole about this too.”
Deston nods again.
“I’ll contact him after this meeting.”
Floris Hazelweiss, like most of the druids of whom he is the unofficial leader, doesn’t own a phone.
Druids tend to be not very tech-savvy.
And Floris was Demeter’s ex-husband, so those two had that in common. It was one of the reasons they got along when they first started dating.
Of course, Demeter eventually changed her opinion on technology, and Floris is gradually coming around too.
You might be aware of how drastically Demeter’s opinion on technology changed.
If you are, you should also know how exactly she wound up in her current predicament.
Perhaps, if she hadn’t traded her wooden body in for a metal one, she would have simply returned to Arborea yet again.
On the other hand, her best friend Vanessa traded her wrinkly body of flesh in for a mechanical one too, and it didn’t keep her from going to Hell.
And on that note…
Meanwhile, on the tenth circle of Hell, in one of the many Not-Safe-At-All Rooms, Vanessa Valentine sits cross-legged on the floor, wearing the pink fluffy costume that is the uniform of those damned souls occupying these twisted, infernal parodies of the archetypal fluffy’s saferoom.
On one wall, a HD plasma TV has been mounted. In this case, the plasma is blood plasma, and HD stands for “Hell-Damned”.
It’s playing a marathon of Babies!, the FluffTV show hated by many fluffy owners back on the Prime Material Plane, the show that made the feral fluffy problem so much worse than it had to be.
It’s that or reality TV. Frankly, you won’t find anything to watch Down Here that won an Oscar, or an Emmy.
But if it won a Razzie, you can bet that it’ll be found here.
Were you really expecting anything good to watch on TV in Hell?
While making terrible movies isn’t a sin in and of itself, those in showbusiness who find their way Down Here for the sins they did commit are often punished by forcing them to watch the worst movies they ever made.
And the boys in the Rape Chamber have been keeping a spot free for Harvey Weinstein for a rather long time. He’ll be right between Hitler and Stalin, and the demons have an extra-large French maid outfit ready.
This is Hell. They’re big on irony here.
One of the elite demons is standing next to the door, which is temptingly ajar, and the demon’s back is turned away from Vanessa.
He speaks up in a tone of mock concern.
“Oh no, I accidentally left the door open! I sure hope my fluffy doesn’t sneak out while I’m not looking! Not after she caught a glimpse of Babies!, which I totally didn’t intend to let her watch!”
Vanessa doesn’t budge, her eyes fixated on the door.
She’s been Down Here for a while, so she knows that there isn’t a chance in, well, here that they would actually let her escape.
Especially because she’s a known enemy of the ChaotiX.
The elite meaningfully clears his throat.
“I SAID, I hope my fluffy doesn’t sneak out!”
He stage whispers in Vanessa’s general direction.
“Psst! That’s your cue, Valentine.”
Still, Vanessa doesn’t move.
“I know you’re just going to beat me with a sorry stick if I try to escape. I refuse to play along with this infantile charade anymore.”
The elite scoffs.
“Valentine, you dumb cunt, if I want an excuse to beat you, I can FIND one. So if you won’t play along, we’ll just have to get CREATIVE. I think the Pit of Burning Demon Fluffy Sorry Poopies is empty right now…”
Vanessa groans in resignation as she gets up and starts sneaking over to the door, in an obviously feigned, overly dramatic manner.
“I hope Dem’s doing better than I am.”