the first time had been years ago, while all the lights were off and she could barely see anything in front of her. the humans had gone home for the night, leaving her and the other fluffies shivering on the cold steel of their enclosure. her fellow alicorn was lucky enough to be in the middle of a fluffpile, composed of the few that didn’t see him as a munstah - but not lucky enough to have the wound on his stomach bandaged properly. his lungs rattle with every breath, audible even from a distance, and every wheeze sends a little more blood seeping down into his fur.
she had broken away from the crowd hours ago, unable to sleep with the fur pressing against her from all sides. yet she’s still awake, listening to the pitiful, weak noises from the injured fluffy. she doesn’t know if they’re siblings, or related in any way, as this place does not allow kinship nor positive feeling. if it did, she wouldn’t be able to see the bodies of her predecessors in a garbage bin just barely in-sight while chained to the table.
the other alicorn falters, then heaves a cough so loud it’s a wonder nobody else wakes up. stumbling to his hooves, he looked around with barely open eyes, landing on her. he struggles to break out of the fluffpile, but manages to step over the sleeping bodies before his front legs give out in exhaustion. dragging himself over, he inhales with a stuttered breath, “pw-pwease, fwuffy -” another cough.
she rises to her hooves and walks the rest of the way over, sparing him from having to pull himself along any further. he’s even worse of a sight up close: the fur on his face is wet and matted, eyes bloodshot from crying. his entire body shakes with each breath, a thin trail of blood following behind him. “fwuffy wan die,” he admits, staring up at her, “p-pwease wet fwuffy gu foweba sweepies. nu wan h-huwties nu mowe.”
the stitches on her back start to itch. the only thing sparing her from the same pain is the way her flesh refuses to stay torn apart, something that’s already caught unwanted attention. the other fluffies say she’s lucky she doesn’t hurt as long as they do, but she sure doesn’t feel like it when the humans keep pushing her to the edge.
she moves closer to the other alicorn instead of continuing to think about it. “den cwose ‘ouw eyes,” she pulls him close, his head between her front hooves, “and count tu fibe.”
“o-otay,” he stammers, pressing himself against her and twisting his eyes shut. “one… two…”
she adjusts her grip slightly, feeling around for weak spots.
“thwee…”
his jaw tenses beneath her hooves.
“fouw…”
a deep inhale.
“fi-”
CRUNCH
her hooves strike the sides of his head in one swift movement, breaking through spots in his skull already worn down from weeks of torture. she pulls them back, then slams them down, again and again and again until she’s completely sure his breathing has stopped. shards of bone dig into her legs, brain matter clinging to her fur even while she tries to wipe it off on the now dead fluffy. his skull is completely shattered, red and pink merging into a pool under him.
she stands, pushing his body off of her and back onto the cold ground, then grabs it by the scruff and pulls it to the back corner. his blood is slick on the steel, and she finds her legs slipping up several times before she catches herself. there’s no way to bury him here. nothing she can do about that.
once he’s tucked in the corner, she curls back into a ball in front of it, blocking it from view of the other fluffies. her fur ends up thoroughly soaked, but she’s too tired to care; she knows it won’t matter in the morning. she wonders what the humans will do to her - give up and kill her for good, or let her starve away silently? either is better than still being trapped in this iron box, however, and in a way she’s almost envious of the body behind her.
she doesn’t care about how the other fluffies will react. this is sure to run off the few that haven’t already called her a munstah, and she can almost hear the former housepet yelling about how “good fwuffies nu make oda fwuffies gu foweba sweepies” and “fwuffy knew munstah was a munstah, am wowstest fwuffy eba!”, even though she knows by now that being here is worse than anything she can do.
so she closes her eyes and finally drifts off, content with the knowledge that she saved a fluffy’s life tonight.
. . .
the next morning is, as expected, chaos.
the humans wake the other fluffies up before she does, and she’s vaguely aware of the body behind her being grabbed before she’s lifted into the air. “well, would you look here,” the man holding her grins, “finally something fuckin’ good happens. boss’ gonna be real happy with this one.”
the person next to him whistles, “holy shit. it did all that?”
a chorus of shrieks come from the enclosure below, and if she cranes her neck around to look she can see the other fluffies frozen stiff, staring at the gore. one vomits, another running in the opposite direction - one looks up, limbs shaking, making eye contact. their expression is a mix of terror and disbelief. she turns her head.
“uhh, yeah, y’see all this fuckin’ blood?” the man shakes her for emphasis. “not like a raccoon or anything can sneak in.”
the second person stares at his other hand. “and what are you gonna do with that?”
“throw it out, duh,” he shrugs, sending the alicorn lurching with the movement. “not like this one’s any special. now go get the boss for me, will ya? my hands’re kinda tied right now.”
“yeah, whatever,” they turn back to the door they walked through. “you enjoy this job too fucking much. rest of staff should be coming in soon, by the way; i’d get that cleaned up.”
“munstah!” one fluffy screams out, and the silver alicorn jumps slightly, “‘hatchu! hatchu!”
“oh, shut the fuck up!” the man turns to yell at them, and the other fluffies go scrambling to the farthest corner. “you shits are so fuckin’ irritating. if it were up to me yall’d have been dead weeks ago.”
the living fluffy in his hand shakes slightly. “i have to say, though - this is impressive. if it’s temperament boss wants then he’s fuckin got it.” he lets out a loud, guttural laugh before the doors swing back open. “o-oh, boss! you’re here early.”
“because somebody insisted on dragging me here,” the boss grumbles, then sets his sights on his employee’s hands. his own are gloved. “…hand her over.”
the man complies, and she only stares while she’s passed between the two. she just stares up at the boss; she knows very well that he isn’t happy with her. instead of being afraid, she’s just pleased with herself for managing to go against him, even if only once. even if it gets her killed.
after a moment of scrutinizing, the boss begins to walk, gesturing for the man to follow. he goes into the room down the hall, empty besides a few dozen rusty cages and cabinets still half-closed. he opens one of the cages before roughly shoving her into it, sending her tumbling.
“keep her separate,” he already turns to address his employee, “do not compromise her. this is the first damn lead we’ve had this entire time and if you fuck it up i won’t hesitate to fire you.”
“y-yes, boss,“ the man salutes, sweating slightly. “but what do you want us to do with ‘er then?”
“i will be looking after her,” he reassures, “you just need to do one thing: keep her alive.”
. . .
“dow - sawb… -adow!”
salvador wakes up to minty in her face, looking worried. “‘ou wewe mobing in ‘ouw sweep,” she explains, “did ‘ou hab bad dweamie?”
“nu,” the alicorn rises to her hooves and stretches momentarily, joints popping. then she turns to the other mare and replies with a smile, “sawbadow am otay.”