Ive decided to split this in 3 parts, as to get them out faster.
Brandon woke up feeling like a millon bucks. Playing his game with his fluffy had surely helped him. He would keep his word and care for it. After all, he wasnt a hypocrite, and he despised such actions. He got dressed and walked into the makeshift safe room with Bourbon.
Bourbon looked a little worse for wear, he had been crying all night, only getting sleep when it dragged him down. His eye fluff was caked in a salty crust. His food bowl was empty, he apparently forced himself to eat. He would need a quick wash before breakfast it seems.
“Well, good morning Bourbon!” Brandon said with a sweet tone “we need to get washed up, then we can have breakfast.”
Bourbon woke up in a start, not really understanding were he was. That was, before consciousness brought him back. He was flooded with the memories of yesterday. He began to cry again.
“Huuuhuu” Bourbon cried " am wowstest ebah"
“Now, now” Brandon comforted as he picked up Bourbon from his bed “you’re not the worst. All you did was make a choice, one you thought was right.”
To Brandon, it was the right choice. It gave him more “players” for his game. Brandon walked into the bathroom with Bourbon, placing him in the sink. He grabbed a small glove, with bristles. It was a glove made specially for bathing fluffies. It combed and got soap in their fur, all while requiring little water. It cost a pretty penny, as most fluffy suppliers were small manufacturers, but it was worth the money. He lathered the glove with some soap and began to stroke Bourbon.
“Nu wike wawa, am bad fo fwuffy…” Bourbon tried to complain, but he had no resistance in him.
“Listen,” Brandon said “after this, we get to have breakfast. So the faster I get this done the faster we get to eat”
Bourbon stopped putting up what little fight he had been giving. It took about 15 mins to get him clean but afterwards Bourbon did feel a little better. Although, he didnt want to admit that. This man was still a monster to him, after what he did to him. After the bath, Brandon wrapped Bourbon in a towel and headed for the kitchen. He placed Bourbon on a fluffy bed that was on the dinning table, facing the tv. He turned it on and changed to some classic morning cartoons. The channel showed old cartoons, giving Brandon some nostalgic memories of summer. He began to cook breakfast, some eggs and waffles. When he was done, he made 2 plates. His and a much smaller one for Bourbon.
“Here you go” Brandon said in an upbeat tone “eggs and some waffles.” He placed down a small plate in front of Bourbon. He had made some mini waffles for him along with 2 sunny side up eggs.
“Dis…dis weawwy am fo Bouwbon?” Bourbon asked, scared to eat. He had never seen food like this before.
“Of course!” Brandon said to the fluffy “you’re my little fluffy after all, and besides, you will need all the energy you can get for today.”
Those words shook Bourbon. He knew what they meant, and started to cry again.
“Oh, no” Brandon said “no crying at the dinner table.” He said while devouring a waffle whole. He pointed at Bourbon’s plate. “Eat.” He said coldly
Bourbon stifled his tears and began to eat. It was really good. That only made him feel worse.
*
After they finish, Brandon did the dishes and cleaned up. He watched some cartoons and the news. He put Bourbon in his lap and gently stroked him, making sure to avoid any injuries from yesterday. He didnt mind the fluffy as much as he thought he would. “When they arent shitrats, they aren’t half bad.” He thought. After it had gotten to the afternoon he got up and took Bourbon to the garage.
“Nuuuu! Nuuu!” Bourbon physically protested “munstah daddeh sai nu mowe huwties! Yu pwomised!”
“Oh, my dear Bourbon” Brandon said gently “im not going to hurt YOU, I have a small comfy box down here for you to watch in!” Brandon smile reached his ears as he said this.
What little of Bourbon’s soul was crushed. Of course this monster was going to make him watch. He was going to hurt his family in front of him, and he could do nothing to stop him.
“And dont worry,” Brandon said “They wont be able to hear you or see you. But you will be.” Brandon lugged Bourbon over to a small black box.
It was a special box Brandon made himself. Soundproofed and made with two way mirrors. Lined with a comfortable and plush cushion. Ventilated and air cooled so the fluffy could breathe, made sure any fluffy inside could see out of it, and do so in complete comfort. It was something he was pretty proud of.
He placed Bourbon inside, and closed it. Bourbon could see all around him, he hated this place. The “Playroom”. Thats what the monster had called it. It was nothing but a room of horror. Bourbon began to cry again, his thoughts on his family.
Brandon walked out of the garage and into the kitchen. He would need a single treat to win them over. He grabbed a raspberry from the fridge and got his shoes on.
He walked out into the back yard and scanned the yard. Almost no signs of fluffies. The mare was probably used to being sneaky, her being an alicorn and all. Brandon walked quietly to the shed where he had seen her last and listened carefully.
giggle
There. The sound of foals. With his suspicion confirmed, he walked around the shed to its back. He pretended to be walking around the back with no idea that fluffies were nesting there. Out of the corner of his eye he could see them. 4 foals; 1 white and green earthie, and 3 alicorns.
Absolute Jackpot.
1 of the alicorn foals was a red with rusty orange color highlights. 1 was a light purple-pink with dark turquoise highlights. The last was a jade green with black highlights. The mummah mare was a darkish purple alicorn with light pink-purple highlights.
All in all, a really good set of colors. A breeders dream.
A dream he would happily crush.
“Nyu daddeh?” A small voice said. Brandon looked down. It was the white foal that had spoke up. Brandon smiled
“Well, hi there little fluffy” Brandon said in a fake sing-song voice. “What are you doing in my yard?” He was going to fake not knowing about them to get them to trust him.
“Mint!” The concerned mare said. She waddled over to him and hid him behind her. “Am…am sowwy mistew” she apologized “nu mean to be in yuw wand, bu’ needed pwace fo sweepies.” She looked up at him, clearly scared he would hurt
“She’s smart.” Brandon thought. Not a lot of fluffies apologize or understand that humans might hurt them. He knew she was perfect for the game.
“Oh, its no big deal.” He said with a fake smile “do you and your foals have a name?”
At this point the other foals had come over to their mother. They were curious of the man before them.
“Am Wavendew.” she said. She points to the white one. “Dis am Mint.”
she then brings the red one closer to her. “Dis am Cinnamon.”
she pulls the other two closer to her next. “Dis am Bewwy.” She pointed at the purple one and she pointed to the green one and said “An’ dis am Basiw”
Lavender, Mint, Cinnamon, Berry, and Basil. Someone definitely named them. They were too close to a theme for a fluffy to do. Brandon looked at all of them. They were clearly nervous of him. He gave Lavender a fake smike to calm her.
“Wow, you and your baabehs have such pretty names.” He said “who gave them to you?” He was genuinely curious.
“Wavendew did!” She said proudly. “Wavendew find wowdie book with namies inside. Special friend Bouwbon and Wavendew choosie namies fo babbehs.” She smiled proudly at Brandon. She had found a cookbook and used ingredients as names.
It was an impressive feat for a fluffy. He was right, she was smart. Maybe a little too smart.
“Whoa,” Brandon said with a little genuine surprise “thats impressive.”
Brandon crouched down to Lavender. “Say, is your special friend Bourbon a brown fluffy?” He asked with a hidden smile
“Yes!” Lavender exclaimed “Speciaw fweind Bouwbon am bwown. Bouwbon no come back last bwite time. Hav yu seen Bouwbon?”
“Actually, i have” Brandon said “I found him last night. We played my favorite game, but it was too late to come out and get you afterwards.”
“Oh,” Lavender said looking down “whewe am Bouwbon den?”
“He’s inside my house,” Brandon explained “I can let you in too, but you and your foals will have to play a game with me first.”
“A gamsie?” Lavender said. She narrowed her eyes, seemingly to think. “Wha game?” She said with caution
Brandon smiled, he knew he had gotten her. All he needed now was to do his usual routine.
“Its simple really, its a game of choices and decisions.” He explained “how about we play a practice round?”
Lavender looked that the man, he seemed nice. But she knew sometimes humans could be mean. They can lie and hurt fluffies. She had seen it before, but she wanted to trust him so much. It was almost ingrained in her to play with him. She decided she would.
“Otay,” Lavender replied after some thought “wha am WavendeW du?”
“Alright, ill give you a choice between 2 options. You make a choice and it happens. Simple really.” Brandon explained as he showed the raspberry in his hand, now slightly warm. “Your choices are what foal are you gonna give this fruit to. You can only choose one.” Brandon smiled as he finished
Lavender looked at the berry in his hand. It was a very tasty one, but it had seeds in it. Only one of her babbehs had some teeth to eat it with. Although, the others would get upset if he got a treat and they didnt. Normally she would crush it on a leaf or something and have them share it that way. But tne man said the game was to decide only one. She woild have to give it to Cinnamon. He was the oldest with some teeth in and close to getting weaned. So she chose him.
The foals had walked closer to Brandon, now that he had talked to their mother. They were very curious about the berry in his hand.
“Wha am dat?” Asked Mint, the white one.
“Am dat nummie?” Asked Cinnamon, the red one.
“Am it toysie?” Asked Berry, the purple one.
“Dat look weiwd.” Basil said, the green one.
Lavender looked deep in thought and didnt even pay any mind to the foals questions. Possibly immune to the 20 question game most foals played when encountering something new after being a mother for so long.
“Wavendew gib to Cinnamon.” Lavender said while pointing at the red foal.
“Alright,” Brandon said “thats your choice.” He handed the raspberry to the small red foal. “This is food, but only you can eat it. No sharing.” Brandon told Cinnamon
“Dis am fo onwy Cinnamon?” Cinnamon questioned “Why no shawe with sissie or bwudas?”
“Because, it part of the rules of the game.” Brandon replied flatly
“O…otay” Cinnamon said while he took a bite of the berry. “Dis am so yummy!” He exclaimed with joy.
The other foals looked a little sad but didn’t say anything. After all, the rules of the game they were playing had to be followed. It was ingrained into them to go along with “games”, a bit of leftover programming from so long ago.
“Well, you see it isnt that bad of a game.” Brandon said to Lavender “we can play the real game if you come inside.”
Lavender waited a bit, ultimately giving in to the nice man. “Yush, Wavendew will pway gamesie. wets go babbehs!” She said as she crouched down letting the foals ride on her back.
Hook-line and sinker.
Brandon was overjoyed that she wasnt any smarter, and began to lead them to the house. He opened rhe door and walked them to the garage.
“This is the “playroom”” Brandon explained “it might be a little dark but it’s completely safe”
The dimly lit room was as cold as always. The camera in the corner on its tripod was facing the large steel table, the table had several pieces of equipment hanging off of it. Lavender didnt lile the room, it smelt like boo-boo juice. She could also smell Bourbon, so it was true he had been here. As shee looked around vague shapes of tools and equipment could be seen, as well as a large black box directly adjacent to the steel table.
Brandon bent down and said “i need to get yall of you up on the table, can i do that?”
Lavender had come this far and was still uneasy. She just wanted to see her special friend again. So she agreed.
Brandon carefully handled the foals and mare onto the table. Making sure they didnt leave each others sight as they might panic if they did. He got them all on the table and gave the black box a wink.
“Alright im gonna explain the rules for this round ok,” Brandon said as he pressed a button on the camera, a red light turned on it. “Lavender, you are gonna make some choices. 3 for each foal of yours. You will have 2 options per choice, or you can choose yourself. After all is done ill let you in the room with Bourbon, ok?” A vile smile spread apon his face.
Lavender felt a shiver crawl down her spine. Something was off, but she couldn’t tell what. She looked over the table, it was a long way down. Far enough down that any attempts would lead most definitely to an injury. They were trapped. But the man just wanted to play a game, what harm could come from that?
“Otay, Wavendew nuw wuwes.” She said
“E X C E L L E N T.” Brandon’s true malice spat out.
He turned around and grabbed the electric trimmer from a stand. He then whipped around and grabbed Basil, with care, and looked at Lavender.
“First one will be this one,” he said with a grin “which would you prefer he keeps, his tail fluff or his mane?”
Basil heard these words and started to squirm. “Nuu, nu take pwetty fuff!” Basil said in a panic. His struggle was of no use, for Brandon’s grasp was lock tight.
Lavender was stunned. Staring at the man who had her Basil in his hand and some thing in his other hand. She could hardly process what was happening. He said he wanted to play a game, but this wasnt a fun game. He wanted to take her baby’s pretty fluff. She was frozen with indecisiveness.
“Come on…Make a decision.” Brandon said while he twirled the trimmer in his hand. The other foals had started to get paniced as well, cryung while pleading, “Nu take budahs fwuff!” Or “pwease nu huwt budah!” They reached up for Basil and waved their stubby leggs in the air, as if they could him. All he did was smile and take in the music he loved. Their torment would be so elegant and drawn out.
Lavender understood. This wasnt a game for them. It was a game for the man. She had fallen for his trap. Nothing could stop him, no amount of begging or pleading. She had doomed her foals and herself. So all she could do is choose the option that caused less pain. He could grow back his mane
“Ta…” Lavender started, yet her voice dropped. “Take mane fwuff.”
“A good choice” Brandon said as he started up the trimmer. Basil squirmed as the trimmer got closer. “Nuuu! Nu take pwetty fwuff! Mummah! Mummah hewp Basiw!” His struggles hardly stopped Brandon. The trimmer connected with the base of his neck and went up. A pile of black fur landed on the table. Basil began to chirp in distress, all Lavender did was look down and begin to cry.
“Alright, lets get to your next choice!” Brandon said, channeling his inner gameshow host. “What do you want your baby to take, 3 flick hurties or 3 pinch hurties?”
“SCREEE, Nu give huwties to Basiw! MumMAH! HEWP!” Basil screamed. He was getting more distressed as he was the man bring his hand up. He writhed in his grip, to no avail. Brandon’s grip was strong, almost as if it were riveted together.
Lavender hated the man for this. Why would he want to hurt her pretty little babies? She wanted it to stop, but she couldnt. She was utterly trapped. But she had to think. How could she get out. The man would make her decide, there was not escaping that. She would have to play his “game” in order to leave, but she could make the choice that hurt the least.
“Huuhuu,” Lavender cried “gibe fwick huwties, huuhuu”
“An excellent choice mummah!” Said Brandon with excitement. He held the foal in his left hand and choosed what 3 places he should flick. “Definitely the nose, maybe the gut.” He thought. After making his choice, he began.
“Here it comes!” He said curling his finger.
“NUUU, Wai Mummah? Nu wov Bawiw anymowe?” Basil cried out.
“Mummah wov Bawiw, Mummah wov aww babbehs” Lavender said through tears “Mummah nu can stop Munstah, huuuhuu.”
As she said this Brandon started. First he went for the nose. THWAK. Dead center on the foals nose.
“SCREEEE! SMEWW-PWACE HAVE HUWTIES! MUMMAH SABE BABBEH!” Basil screeched as the pain crackled across his face. He covered his snout with his tiny hooves. He tried to wiggle out of Brandon grasp, but again, it was fruitless.
Lavender’s heart was shattering as he hurt her Basil. But she knew the pain would go away, after a bit. She just hoped her babies were as strong as their father.
Brandon reviled in the foals screams. Such good music it was. He curled his finger again. Next he would go for its hindquarters. THWAK. A solid hit.
“CHIRP, Huuuhuu” Basil cried in pain. “Back hab huwties! Huuhuu.” The dull pain radiated across his back. Why was the meanie man giving hime hurties? Basil couldn’t comprehend why.
Basil’s wiggling had gotten weaker, it was becoming apparent that trying to escape was fruitless. The other foals were crying, their begging had stopped. They were all hugging each other next to their mother, terrified of what was happening.
Brandon curled his finger up for another flick. The last one, aimed straight for the foals stomach. THUNK. Square in the lower stomach.
Basil vomited instantly. “Huuhuuu, wai make sickie wawas?” Basil’s breath had gotten labored. His eyes couldnt possibly cry anymore, they were bone-dry.
Brandon was absolutely living this, he would definitely need to have more fluffies invade his garden. He thought of what choice to give her next, it was this foals last one. He wanted it to be especially traumatic. When his eyes landed on the foals wings. A wicked smile formed on his face.
“Well, lets get on to your next choice now!” Brandon said “which would you prefer i crush, his pwetty wingies or his widdew weggies?” He mocked their speech for added effect. He shook the foal as he stared at the mare. Her look of emotional anguish was divine, like a fine wine.
“Wai…wai munstah miwstew wan tu huwt babbies?” Lavender demanded in an angry tone. She was past crying now. She looked at the monster that called itself a man. He was evil beyond a doubt. She should have listen to her gut and left the garden. She hated him. “Wavendew hatchu, hatchu mowe dan anyting.” She slither through her mouth with malice.
Brandon looked at the mare. That bitch DARED to talk like that to him. He would make her regret that. He would make her suffer the most he could. But first he would need to drill despair into her. He calmly breathed out. He looked back down at the mare.
“You hate me?” He said coldly “you dont even know the meaning of hatred.”
He placed the foal down on the table directly near him. He quickly reached under the table for his special tool. One he rarely used. A club hammer. Ol’ Heavy.
As soon as Basil was let go he looked over to his mummah. She would save him. She would give him huggies and wuv. Make everything all better. He got up and started to walk to her. “Mummah, Mummah!” He cried out “Hab huwties, need huggies and wu…”
FUCKING SMASH!
KAKH!
His pleas cut short by 20lbs of stainless steel thundering on him. He was crushed instantly, spare his head. Which flew directly into the huddled up foals. “Eeek! Screeee! Scawy!” They screamed as they ran from it.
“BASIW!” Lavender screamed. She froze in horror and disbelief. Her little basil, gone in an instant. Blood and guts had exploded from the impact. Covering the man’s arm and chest. That metallic smell began to radiate from the other side of the table to her. She was speechless. In shock.
“Why, you asked” Brandon said “because, you are nothing more than a shitrat. A stupid vermin. Worth less than the dirt i walk on. Thats why.”
He lifted up the hammer and put it back under the table. He scooped the scattered remains of the mincemeated foal into the biohazard bucket.
“So tell me, do YOU understand what hatred is?”