Part 4
Russet stared, stunned at what he was watching. His eyes were on the giant stranger lowering his foot over Nightshade’s head, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. While his see things saw Nighshade, his thinky place saw Café. Only he wasn’t Café yet. He was a poopy baby and nothing more, like him. The towering orange menace of the Smarty smacked him over and over, back and forth while the poor dark alicorn cried for the pain to stop.
"Dummeh! smack Munstah babbeh!” smack Stay 'way fwum gud babbehs and gud mummahs!” SMACK
The alicorn rolled several feet away towards the mummahs, babbling along with their foals and cowering. The dam nearest the monster cried out shrilly and pulled her best baby close, shielding her treasured progeny with her body against the influence of the living dread so near. The Smarty saw this reaction and made up his mind, knowing there was only one solution to keep his herd safe. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to do this. He approached the small squeaking mass and placed his hoof firmly on its head and, slower than was necessary, began to press down.
“NU!!” Russet cries out twice from two places, two times at once as the ephemeral moment faded with the fog of his mind and he was thrust back into the present by the cries of his sissie, confused about the pain she was receiving from her new friend.
The borderline geriatric man’s balance slipped from his already precarious footing and he stumbled backwards on his heels in surprise at this sudden interjection. “भड़क!” he exclaimed as he found his shaky balance again. He turned away from the dull purple filly while she complained about “head hurties” and redirected his attention to the brown colt that just interrupted his just dispatching of vermin. He walked towards the little earthie who stared like a deer in headlights. Russet tried to back away but the old man got his fingers around the foal and lifted him up to eye level; his wrinkled face and bagged dark eyes looking into his own with a radiating and palpable sense of anger. If he had anything in his bowels, it would’ve been gone by now.
“Mr. Singh!”
Both Russet and the old man turned their heads to Nico, who had a look on his face to suggest he had just seen a nuclear explosion. There was a few moments of awkward silence where they stared at eachother, before the old man’s eyes shifted to the small box of fluffy litter and small plastic litter box. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together; and Mr. Singh, to his credit, was a renowned neurosurgeon; albeit retired.
“Nico. I assume these… fluffies… are yours.” Mr. Singh broke the silence at last.
“I’m sorry, sir I’m not keeping them I just had to hold them for my aunt. Babysitting, I mean.” Nico replied rapidly and unconvincingly. “I’m sorry, I know pets aren’t allowed and I should’ve asked you-”
“I assumed they were feral and was just about to take care of them. But either way they are not pets. I cannot prevent you from keeping them. Not as of now. Though, aside from legal matters, I can question why you wish to soil my property with their shit.” Mr. Singh said in his heavy accent, eyes fixed like daggers biting into Nico’s own.
“No, sir, I’m taking good care of them and I… uh… I’m taking good care of them and I’m litter training them… for my aunt that is… and all that… stuff.” Nico stuttered out. Mr. Singh wasn’t an understanding man at the best of times, nor had he much in the way of empathy for others, be they human or legally recognized non-sentient vermin.
“I should hope so.” Mr. Singh replied curtly. “Anyway, I’m surprised your aunt did not tell me about hers - or your - toys when I went to collect rent from her. She could not pay this month. I left the bill in your apartment. You have 3 days until the end of the month, as I am sure you are aware already. Your door is open by the way.”** And with that, Mr. Singh roughly set down the terrified colt and was off in the direction of his car.
Nico, still recovering from the shock, found himself wondering how an old fart with Parkinson’s could intimidate him so. But ignoring that thought, he found both his sense and his courage again before Mr. Singh could reach the sleek black car door, and he spoke up:
“By the way, Mr. Singh?”
“Yes?” He replied with a tinge of impatience.
“My stove and oven seem to be acting up. Broken, I mean. It gets really really hot.” Nico said.
"A oven should get hot, should it not? said Singh, hand on the car door.
“Well it’s hard to cook. It kinda burns everything. I think it uses too much gas too.” Nico said unhopefully. He was aware the gas bill was his responsibility alone, not to be concerned by his landlord.
“I will get around to it.” he said simply, entering the driver door.
“Ok, um, thanks. Uh. Also the bathroom sink-” Nico began to say, but Mr. Singh was already driving away.
Cabrón Nico thought, and silently gave up. He turned his attention to Russet who was shaking and crying on the ground. He stopped to pick up Nightshade on the way who was still mumbling about “thinky pwace huwties.” He took them both in his arm and carried them, as well as his new merchandise complete with litterbox, inside.
Nico was pleasantly surprised to find the apartment totally clean. Thinking back to the amount of shit he saw in the alley, he had assumed and prepared himself when he sawn the foals up and active that they would’ve messed up the entire place. He didn’t really understand why it was so clean, but his exhausted mind considered it a blessing in disguise. Still, if they weren’t pooping that might be a problem…
“Nyu fwend gib Nighshay huwties. Daddeh! Wan miwkies!”
But first things first, he had to feed his probably starving foals. A little demanding but he could forgive her. He figured she was still learning her words, and besides that she had just been through a lot it seemed. He wouldn’t wish his landlord’s wrath on his worst enemy. He gave some pets to both foals but especially to Russet who was still shaking, sucking on his hoof while tears occasionally rolled down his face, over his snout. After filling all 3 bottles with warmed milk, he returned from the adjacent kitchen to the living room to find Café had very slowly slunk into the room from the bedroom. With a twinge of guilt, Nico realized he had forgotten about the alicorn’s existence in all the excitement and exhaustion, but was thankful he apparently hadn’t followed his siblings outside. He was a homebody, it seemed.
When Nico greeted Café with an enthusiastic “Hey Café! How you doing!” he was met with only brief eye contact and a simple “hewwo…”. Café squeaked out when Nico grabbed him and set him with his siblings already feeding from their bottles lying on the small coffee table. Considering for a second, Nico chose to make an attempt at some extra bonding with this poor little shy guy and hand feed him. As usual, Café drank rather quickly in big gulps in Nico’s hand with a strained look on his face, eyes closed tightly. Before the other two had finished, Café had nudged the nipple of the bottle away with a hoof and burped quietly.
“You done, buddy?” Nico said. Café nodded.
Café was confused and briefly alarmed when Nico pulled him close into his chest and started stroking his back across his still growing mane. Café squirmed a little at first before the warmth of Nico’s body and the general close proximity to a human triggered his instincts, and he sighed contentedly as he stretched his small forelegs out horizontally in an attempted hug of Nico’s much larger torso. Nico continued to cuddle the little guy, wings fluttered slightly as his fingers ran over them, until the other two had finished their milk. He tried to hand feed the other two to get the rest of the drops out of the bottles, but they both ultimately rejected the rest, with only Nightshade drinking a few sips more. It seems they weren’t as hungry as he assumed they’d be.
After the feeding, and some post-miwkies petting and attention, he got out the litterbox and filled it with litter while all three foals watched curiously. He set it down on the coffee table and set all the foals inside it. Café said nothing but pushed a little divot into the litter and laid down. Russet simply stared around underneath his feet and sniffed it a few times. Nightshade kicked around the litter a bit in wonder before she started laughing and romping around in it, drawing little lines in the fine sand-like litter before she either got bored or distracted by the presence of her beloved daddy. “Wub! Nighshay wan huggies, daddeh!” She said, looking up at him with her good eye. Nico took note of her using her name.
“Hold on, little one. We need to talk about some things first. This is a litterbox. Do you know what that is?” He asked the three of them.
“…Witbawgs??” Said Nightshade.
”Witta box…” Said Russet, a look of slow comprehension seemed to dawn in his soft brown eyes.
Café said nothing, but his ears were pointed like satellite dishes towards Nico.
”Yes. This is where you make ‘good poopies.’” Nico told them, parroting the phrases he had been told by the employee of the petshop earlier.
”Whenever you need to make poopies, you do that in here, ok? And then you wipe your butt- er- your ‘poopy place’ (Nico cringed inwardly at his own lingo) on the sandy soft parts that don’t have poopies, ok? Why don’t you guys do that now?”
Nico spent a while trying to get them to comprehend this rather complex set of guidelines. Russet actually got it fairly quickly, whereas Nightshade had to be physically moved and guided by Nico to get her to understand what she needed to do. He demonstrated flicking his fingers through the litter to teach her to kick it over the little liquid shits in the now christened litterbox. In the end, Nico assumed he would still have to teach her more. Café had gotten up, seemed to strain, and laid back down.
”Caffay nu nee’ make poopies nao, daddeh. Sowwy.” Said Café.
”Well… ok buddy but just remember to use it when you do, ok?” Nico had no desire to push this sensitive little thing too far, and he was also placated by being called “daddy” by the alicorn for the first time.
”Ok. Try to remember to use the litterbox ok, guys? Next we need to talk about outside.”
”Outsies.” Said Russet with a shudder.
”Uh yeah. ‘Outsies.’” Said Nico.
”Usually the big door over here-” He walked over to the front door to open and close it in demonstration. ”won’t be open. But if it is, do not leave the inside place here, ok? This is your home, inside. Outside is bad things. Ok? Very bad.”
Nightshade was nodding and smiling at what her daddeh was saying. Nico had no way of knowing if she actually understood or not. Russet was raptly paying attention while Café was simply staring at the door. ”Outside is very bad. Good fluffies stay inside.”
”Meanie munstahs outsies.” Said Russet, ears folded back and hairy tail nub between his legs.
”Yes. Big, mean… uh… monsters.”
The scared looks on all their faces told Nico that they understood to varying degrees. It seemed using their own terminology was the best way to get his messages across.
”Daddeh?” Russet spoke up after some time. ”Who wuz dat meanie mistah?”
”Mr. Singh? Don’t worry about him, little guy. I won’t let him hurt you. He’s just an old fucking bastard.”
All three fluffies flinched hard at Nico’s choice language. Nico was puzzled at their reaction. All three fluffies reacted vocally with phrases like “pwease nu meanie wowds” and “nu wike bad wowdsies” and even a soft “pwease, daddeh” from Café. How do they even know those words? I’ve never said them to them before. At least I don’t think I have… Nico thought to himself.
”Right. Uh. Sorry. Next up, Nightshade.” The lazy eyed filly was snapped out of her discomfort and her attention was riveted to her daddeh.
”Nightshade, your name is way too edgy. From now on we’re gonna call you ‘Belladonna.’ Or just ‘Bella’ for short.” Nico told her, remembering what he had read online earlier.
”Nighshay wub nyu namesies!” She said automatically.
”You’re not Nightshade anymore. You’re ‘Bella’. Bella! Understand?”
”Yus! Nighsha am bewwa! Nighshay wub nyu name bewwa!”
Nico rubbed his forehead in frustration.
”Bella!” He said. She didn’t answer.
sigh ”Nightshade!”
”Daddeh!” She replied happily.
sigh ”¡Chingadera!” Nico exclaimed. All three foals flinched again.
”Pwease nu say meanie wowds!” said Nightshade.
Huh. Nico thought. That’s… interesting…
”Uh… Ahora hablo Español. ¿Hablas Español, Nightshade? ¿Me entiendes?” Nico said to her. She looked at him completely mystified.
”…whu daddeh sayin’?” She said confusedly.
”¡Rata de mierda!”
”Huuu daddeh pwease! Nu wike meanie wowds!!”
&esmp; As Nico calmed them down with some petting, he had a lot on his mind. Are they really just programmed? They just react automatically to phrases. These things really are just toys, huh… but… they seem so real… He thought. He ultimately dismissed it for now, in favor of more pressing matters. After some hugs and pets for all three, he let Nightshade and Russet romp and play around on the table while Café, as usual, just relaxed; and read the letter from his landlord. Looking over it quickly, he sighed. His aunt hadn’t told him she couldn’t help him with his rent this month, though he had no business being ungrateful when she was paying out of pocket for his own expenses. He’d be able to make the payment, but just barely. He’d have to make some budget cuts for who knows how long. He tentatively decided he didn’t need the full function of his phone next month. It’s not like his social life would suffer.
After some time thinking about his expenses, he took a look at the light outside, or lack thereof, and confirmed with his phone that it was now bedtime for this household. He first took the three siblings back to his bedroom and set up the teflon-coated fluffy bed for them for the first time, making sure to lay the micro-fiber “blankets” in there for them too. He made sure they had easy access to the new litterbox next to the bed before he went to take a quick shower, and returned to his little family, still “running” slowly around eachother.
”Time for bed little ones, ok?” He said to them.
There were no objections from Café, who was already laying down. Nightshade seemed upset but relented to her daddeh’s ultimate rule nonetheless. Russet, however, took an entirely unexpected approach.
”Nu wan’ go bed!” Russet said, stamping his little hoof and puffing his cheeks slightly.
This is new Nico thought. He couldn’t help but notice the little foal’s bravado was betrayed, shaken by his actual shaking in fear. Nico laid on the floor to get on Russet’s level, where he stroked the foal’s head. Russet’s cheeks deflated and he cooed at the soft pets.
”Hey come on now. Don’t be bad. You went through a lot today. It was scary, I know. But I’m here now and I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. You scared of the big meanie monster?” Nico asked him.
”…Yus…” Russet admitted.
”Well he’s much smaller and weaker than daddeh. I could kick his ass and hand it back to him if he came back.”
Russet predictably flinched. ”Daddeh pwe-”
Nico laughed. ”I know, I know. Bad words. But trust me. Your daddy is big and strong and I’m gonna be right here in the room with you. Nothing can hurt you here.”
”…can… Can Wussit be big and stwong wike daddeh? Pwotecc bwuddah and sissie? Nu haf huwties?” Russet asked, looking up at his daddeh with newfound admiration at his proclamation of strength. Nightshade had already fallen asleep at this point, snuggled up next to Café who was simply staring and blinking slowly into the wall of the bed.
”I’m sure you can, little guy. But I’ll protect you until then.” Nico told him, and laid down for the night.
Russet still laid awake, thinking over all that went on throughout the day. Nico’s snoring began small and quiet, almost conscious of it until he relented to the encroaching comfortable darkness and he slipped into dreamless sleep. Lulled by the breathing sounds that let him know his daddeh was still there, Russet was not so lucky as he slipped into another place and another time, his thoughts still on the cold hatred in the man’s eyes whom Nico had called “Mr. Singh”.
Those cold, dark eyes turned a deep blue. The bags underneath them became jowels, then cheeks. Cheeks that puffed up in a show of utter robust power over himself. A show of dominance. The wrinkles on his face became orange fluff. Then Russet was falling. He flew through an abyss, cold and dark enough to match the rising pit in his stomach before he came suddenly to a stop on cold concrete. A faint smell hit his nose. A smell that he knew all too well. He looked around in horror to find himself in his first home. The alley, surrounded by all those big fluffies, all with those same, hate filled eyes. He was expecting any of them to approach him at any moment, and he was terrified.
His worst fate, which he thought was certain, did not come, as the eyes turned away before the faces to look at something else, and suddenly he heard it, pained chirps and squeaks for mercy. He looked over and saw two huge, giant fluffies, one all orange, the other yellow with a pink mane. Both were stomping on something that he couldn’t quite make out until he focused. It was small, even smaller than him. It was black… no. It was dark brown, along with a reddish brown too. He knew now where the pained squeaks, that seemed to radiate from every side, were actually coming from. Trying to stand up, he fell down. He tried to scream, but all that came out was a whispering breath. He tried to crawl forward, but he couldn’t. His body didn’t follow the strokes his legs took, and with every attempt they only seemed to get farther away. He was small and helpless, but not as helpless as his poor big brother who was surely mere seconds away from death.
”Wakies, bwuddah. Bad sweepy pictuws…” His now bigger brother was murmuring to his ear, as he nuzzled the back of his head with his forehead. When Café had confirmed his little brother was awake, he gave him a strained hug and went back to his spot to lay down again. While adjusting to the darkness, Russet listened to the sleeping murmurs of his sister as well as the white noise coming from his daddeh, and his nose registered an acrid smell. In his night terror, he had had an accident. When his mind fully came too, he got up, made sure to clean up his mess, and went to the litterbox to fully empty himself, before he went back to the fluffpile and laid awake for the rest of the night, listening to the restful sounds of his family.
You know the drill. Thank you so much for reading, let me know honestly what you think, and I’ll see you next time.