Midway Shelter 3 [by Maple]

“Out of the way, Wolfie.” You scooted the teal fluffy across the hall.

“Wha dat mummah? Snackies?!” He walked a few shaky steps on his hind legs, sniffing at the wailing carrier as you walked. He kept his swirled grey eyes locked on, running his tongue across his jagged teeth in anticipation.

“It’s a new fluffy, boy. Leave her alone.” He huffed in annoyance, but dropped to all fours and went back to napping under your desk.

You are Sarah, and you run the other half of the Midway Fluffy Shelter. Your sister, the softie she is, can’t stand to see fluffies suffer, so you take care of that part for her along with the other dirty work that comes with running a shelter. Being a city run shelter, you couldn’t refuse a fluffy for any reason other than lack of space. Any feral, any house pet, even retired breeders ended up here, and you housed them all. Most went over to Anne’s side, where they learned their manners and were re-adopted out. Some, like the bitch mare you’re carrying to the back, came with you for some… let’s call it “tough love”.

You opened the door to the back room and immediately the fluffies began to wail and whine about the “munstah wady” you popped open the top of one of the cages and dumped Marigold in. “Welcome to your new home.”

She yelped as she landed on the wire mesh floor. “Owies!”

“This is the rehab room. You won’t be here forever. Either you’ll decide to be good and get to go back to where your mate and foals are, or you’ll go to the sorry room.” At the mention of the sorry room the handful of fluffies in their cages cringed. You made sure they were all aware of the sorry room, and what it meant to go there.

“Buh….” Marigold looked around wildly. “Am gud fwuffy!” She put her hooves on the top edge of the cage, big eyes staring pleadingly up at you.

“No.” You slammed the top of the cage shut, throwing her back down onto the wire mesh floor. “You’re not. You’re a bad fluffy.”

You left her there, you would deal with her later once she’d calmed down. Her wails echoed around the small room, the other fluffies in their cages pleading with her to be quiet, to be good, so that she wouldn’t end up like their friends that went to the sorry room. It wouldn’t help, her fate was in her hooves and her hooves alone.

“Mummah?” Wolf was waiting for you outside the rehab room door. “Sumwun at da door.”

“Thanks Wolfie.” You ruffled his mane and he leaned into your hand. Cannibal fluffies required a special licence to own, which you had. You had to take a class, get him registered, all that. Expensive too, but he was worth it. He was one of the first ferals you took in, a skinny, shaking foal abandoned by his family. His burnt orange fluff was matted with gore and filth, but he cuddled into your hands as you brushed out his silver mane and you were just smitten. At this point you weren’t sure if you could run the shelter without him.

“Sorry about the wait,” you called as you entered the reception area. “New arrival, you know.” You unlocked the door and let in a familiar man, one of your regulars. “What can I do for you?”

“The usual!” He knelt down and held out his arms to Wolf. “How’s my favorite killing machine?”

Wolf playfully snapped at his fingers, tail wagging. “Am gud mistah John!”

“You’re here awfully early.”

“Had a stupid fucking board meeting yesterday, and I can’t kick my boss’s skull in so this is the next best thing.”

“Hab yu twied?” Wolf asked with a cocky smile.

John gave him a friendly shove, then stepped up to the counter. “So, new arrival?”

“Not for playing with yet, godda give her a chance.” You pulled out the sign in sheet and set in on the counter. “Bitch mare, stomped a foal, all that.”

“Shame.” John set his card on the counter and signed his name on the first line of the sheet. “I’m in the mood for a bitch mare.”

“There’s a few that you might be excited for, maybe the green and pink one, she’s getting on my nerves.” You swiped his card on the little reader, and typed in his total. “One hour in the rage room, no limits.” You slid his card back across the counter. “Let’s go pick your victim.”

John followed you to the back, past the rehab room and to a solid red door. As you pushed it open a chorus of fluffy voices rang out, yelling and crying and threatening all at once. Before you could figure out what was going on, Wolf darted between your legs, grabbing a yellow unicorn by the throat and pinning it to the ground a few feet from the door. John and you stepped inside and shut the door behind you.

“Whats going on in here?” You growled, and the chattering fluffies went silent, other than the unicorn gasping on the floor. One of the cages on the bottom row was open, and splatters of fluffy excrement covered a few of the plexiglass doors of other bottom row cages. You knelt down and tapped Wolf on the neck, signaling him to release the fluffy. “Who let you out of your cage?”

The yellow unicorn slowly stood, coughing and gasping, piss colored mane flopping over his eyes. “Smawty open cage! Smawty ex-cape!” He puffed his cheeks out. “Git outta Smawty’s way!”

“No.” You heard John chuckle behind you.

The smarty stamped his tiny hoof. “Wet smawty and mawes gu! Or get wowstest huwties!”

You sighed. “Typical, only cares about his harem. You want him?”

John looked over the unicorn. “Nah. I’m liking the look of this mare, this is the one you were talking about?” In the top cage a purple mare cowered, wrapping her green tail around herself.

“Yep. That’s Romeo here’s special friend.” You opened the kennel. “You know where your room is, go ahead and get started, I won’t start your timer until I’m done in here.”

John grabbed the mare by the scruff, holding her up with a wicked smile. “You’re the best Sarah.” He tucked the terrified mare under his arm and opened the door to leave.

“Speciaw fwend!” The unicorn darted for the door, just to get shoulder rushed by Wolf and slammed into the wall of kennels.

You made sure the door was fully closed behind John before addressing the fluffies. “Wolfie baby, I think we need to make an example.” At the mention of an example the fluffies in the room gasped, some darting to the back of their kennels to hide from the coming sight. “Why don’t we show everyone what happens to fluffies that don’t behave?”

Wolf just smiled down at the trembling smarty, jagged teeth bared for all to see.


I don’t have any hope for Marigold, but maybe seeing this smarty prick turned into a club sandwich will put the fear of sky-daddeh into her


Yeeeees moreMORE!!