This follows on from Annihilation and is recommended you read that. It’s not a direct sequel, but the events of both stories are connected.
“Did I ever tell you about my cousin, about Josef?”
“You did, hard man to forget.”
“You know him?”
“Only by reputation.”
“I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately, last week was the anniversary of his death. We weren’t close, nobody in my family is, everyone believes there’s some family curse, a fabled ‘Mongola Madness’ that turns us all into raged fuelled toxic monsters.”
“You’ve mentioned this supposed curse before, in relation to the events with the Khan’s herd.”
“Yeah, it was Josef that tried to convince me that that was my, for lack of a better word, acceptance of the madness. That I was finally embracing being a true Mongola. At first I didn’t believe him, then I realised that I didn’t WANT to believe him.”
“You feel differently now?”
“I have to, even forgetting everything I’ve told you about Khan and Belle and all that, if there wasn’t some fucked up thing in my blood then how else would you explain what brought me here.”
Tara Mongola peeked inside the safe-room, Coco was busy singing to her week old foals and feeding them their milky lunch, none of them noticed their mummah standing at the doorway. With the small family distracted, Tara rushed outside with a bin-bag, that in itself wasn’t unusual, the only difference being the distinctive contents of this bag.
It contained the corpse of Belle, and the last of her starved foals.
Tara wasn’t sure how Belle finally died, whether she choked on her feeder mask, or got an infection from being not moving in over three years, or if her heart finally gave up altogether. Whatever the reason was, Belle was dead and Tara was out a stress reliever.
As she dropped the bag into the biowaste bin, Tara shuddered, she hated thinking of Fluffies like that. True, Belle deserved all the pain and suffering she got but Tara wasn’t an abuser, she only hurt bad Fluffies, bad Fluffies that needed to be hurt, she needed to hurt them like she needed to scratch that awful fucking itch in her brain.
NO! No it wasn’t that at all, she was just frustrated, that was it. Some time inside with the foals would do her some good. Tara took a deep breath before turning back towards the house, her mind putting Belle and her herd firmly behind her. Nope, never gonna think of that ever again.
Never.
Back in the house, Tara went straight for the safe-room, maybe some time with good Fluffies would clear her head. And Coco and her kids were the definition of good Fluffies, Coco had been nothing but civil during her pregnancy, with only a minor disagreement that the stud Tara hired for her wouldn’t be staying with them. Since giving birth Coco had doted on her children, going out of her way to make sure they were warm, fed and loved.
Tara wasn’t sure how much Coco remembered about Khan’s herd, but she figured some of it must’ve stuck because Coco refused to let any of her children out of her sight.
As Tara entered the safe-room, Coco was laying on the floor, her body wrapped around her sleeping children as she smiled sweetly at all of them. She had six of them, four fillies and two colts, the same number and distribution as her mother Orchid, before she was brutalised by those fucking…
No, no thoughts like that. Tara shook them out of her head before stepping into the safe-room and kneeling down on the floor, she reached out and stroked Coco’s head softly.
“How are they?” Tara asked in a low voice.
“Babbehs am gud mummah. Hab wots of miwkies an gud sweepies. An dey am SU pwetty an pewfek. Co-co wub dem aww su mush.”
Tara smiled and looked over at the six infants. The four fillies were split evenly across the four Fluffy types, an earthie, a Pegasus, a unicorn and an Alicorn, while the two colts where one Pegasus and one unicorn. With Coco being brown herself and her stud being cream coloured the litter was predominately earth shades, light browns with some off-white thrown in for good measure, the only outlier was the Alicorn, she was a soft pink colour, the same colour as Orchid, when she was alive at least…
Tara bit her cheek, her mind flashing with the greying, decomposing corpse of Orchid’s violated body, she tried to ignore the images and turned back to the pink filly, trying to replace the horrid pictures of death with the sweet sight of new life. Reaching out Tara run the back of her hand along the pink fillies back, feeling the soft fuzz of her coat, un-weathered by the slow decay of time, still as smooth yet ticklish as when she slipped from her mother. The sleeping filly fluttered her eyes at the touch, then her tired body turned over and promptly let out a wet fart as liquid shit dribbled out of her.
Tara felt that itch come back with a vengeance, threatening to burst out of her skull and devour everything in its past, she only hurt bad Fluffies, and bad Fluffies were the ones who shit all over her fucking…
“Hehe, siwwy babbeh. Dey am bad poopies. Babbeh tuu wittew tu make gud poopies, bu it ok, mummah show yu wen yu big babbeh.”
Tara felt something in her chest tighten. “Of… of course Coco, poor thing is too… young to know what good poopies are. We can’t punish her for something out of her control, that, that, that be… cruel and, and abusive.”
Coco looked over at Tara, confused as to why her mummah was breathing so fast. “Am mummah ok?”
“What? Oh yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just… just feel a little hot is all, I need to get some fresh air.”
“Ok, Coco stay hewe wiv babbehs.”
Tara didn’t say anything, she just took off, a quick jog out of the room that turned almost to a full sprint as she raced for the front door, barely throwing it open in time to spit out a lob of vomit that was lunged out of her throat.
As she stood there, keeled over, throat burning, a trembling arm against the door-frame being the only thing keeping her from collapsing to the ground, Tara had to admit to herself that she needed help, she needed a solution, not a distraction, to the fucked up thoughts inside her head.
The last thing she needed was the small voice at the end of her garden.
“Hewwo? Am nice wady ok?”
Tara looked up, standing in front of her were two Fluffies, one male and one female, the stallion was a unicorn, his coat the dullest brown she’d even seen and his mane a mangy looking grey, the mare was an earthie, her coat a dark, drab green and her mane a white so dull that it might as well have been grey. The stallion had one eye and a limp in his front left leg while the mare had clumps of Fluff missing along her side as well as the telltale bulge of a pregnancy. Both of them looked utterly depressed and defeated.
Tara spat out the acidic taste from her mouth and stood up. “I’m fine, what about you two, you look bad.”
The stallion nodded and hobbled forward. “Ahnowd an speciaw-fwiend hab wowstesh huwties eba, biggesh meanies gib Ahnowd an speciaw-fwiend wowstesh huwties cos dey am munstahs, nu wike gud Fwuffies cos wook wike poopies.”
The mare sniffed and nodded. “Munstah gib Peg-ee wowstesh bad huggies, huuuhuuuhuuu.”
Tara’s throat clenched, her mind filled with images of Orchid’s brutalised corpse, of Chip being castrated and raped in front of her, of his children being violated and murdered. Her palms grew clammy and her stomach twisted, and that itch returned once again.
“You were attacked? By other Fluffies?”
The stallion, Arnold, nodded, his hoofs wrapped around his mate as she wept over her assault. “Yeh, Fwuffies hab owd homesie in sit-ee, nu am nice homesie bu it bewong tu Fwuffies, Ahnowd and speciaw-fwiend hab babbehs, hab biggesh heawt-happies. Den munstahs come, say dat owd homesie bewong tu Smawty nyo an ‘poopie Fwuffies’ need gu way. Fwuffies nu wan weave, teww munstah dat nu wan gu, munstah teww his Tuffies tu gib Ahnowd wowstesh huwties.”
Arnold turned away for a moment, his lip quivering as he relayed the attack. “Dummeh munstahs gib Ahnowd wowstesh sowwy-hoofies, pointy-tuffie gib wowstesh huwtie tu see-pwace, nyo Ahnowd nu can see gud nu mowe. Bu munstah make suwe Fwuffy can see dem gib babbehs foweba sweepies, biggesh dummeh munstahs gib babbehs wowstesh stompies, den dey gib speciaw-fwiend wowstesh bad huggies, caww hew poopie-dummeh, onwy gud fow enfies.”
The mare, Peggy, turned around and pulled something off of her back. “Fwuffy twy tu save wun babbeh, bu dey awweady gu foweba sweepies.”
From beneath her mangy mane, the mare pulled out a foal, or rather the body of one, barely a month old if that. It was a filly, an Alicorn filly with an orange coat, it should’ve been bright and gleaming, but it had been dulled by death and dirt. Tara gently reached out and took the filly’s body, in her head flashed pictures of Citrus, Chip and Orchid’s daughter, also an Alicorn, also orange, also murdered.
The poor filly had her neck broken, her face was frozen with the last moment of terror while her head flopped limply at every slight movement, a sickening cricking sound came as her shattered bones collided with each other inside of her neck. Tara moved the body only to feel something cold and wet dribble onto her hand, she looked and saw an enlarged hole between the foal’s legs, and what had dribbled onto Tara’s hand was a mixture of blood and…
Tara felt her teeth grinding almost to the point of cracking inside her mouth, her eye was twitching, her face burning with fury and that fucking itch going mad inside of her brain. Gently, she placed the filly’s body in front of Peggy and stood up.
“Where are they?” She spoke in a low growl.
Arnold pointed down the street, towards the city centre. “Dummeh munstahs am dat way, owd homesie am cwose tu hoomin pwace wiv In-dee-an nummies, dey gib mouthie tuu many buwnie huwties, nu wike. Wha am nice wady gun du?”
For the first time in weeks, Tara felt a smirk growing on her face.
“I’m going to take care of some bad Fluffies.”
Too eager to feel the satisfaction of justified abuse, Tara took off running. Just the once, one last obliteration of truly despicable Fluffies to get it out of her system, then Tara would never hurt another Fluffy again.
She would not become like every other Mongola.
Arnold watched Tara race off to inflict a cruel and just anger on the herd that invaded his home, before his eyes started to drift over to the front door that Tara had left open in her haste to sate her hunger for abuse.
“You want to know the biggest mistake I ever made with Fluffies?”
“What?”
“I thought they were regular animals, that there was no such thing as a bad Fluffy, just bad owners. Even after Khan I tried to believe that, tried to tell myself that that was the case. It was Arnold that convinced me that Fluffies can be cruel just because they want to be.”
Coco! Nooooooo~!!!
