You are Vicky
There’s been an incident on the part of an employee’s negligence
The farm occasionally does artificial insemination
The employee who was in charge of it this time used the wrong “sample”
Leading to an“undesirable” paring
To put it gently a family tree without many branches
This was not found out until well after the mare gave birth
The first clue to something being wrong should have been that despite being a first time mother she only gave birth to 1 foal as opposed to the usual 3 to 4
When the little guy opened his eyes
It was immediately obvious something was undeniably wrong
Instead of chirping or peeping associated with a foal’s first sights
He simply shook uncontrollably as his eyes darted in every direction
He didn’t like to play like other foals
Preferring instead to nervously slink between places as if afraid to be in direct sunlight
When he started talking
Is where things got bad
“Mumma! Mumma! Du munstas am gon nummie babbie! Save babbie ! Nu wan be nummies! Hu! Hu!”
After the second one of these episodes You took the foal to Zoey
Zoey attempts to calm the foal down
“Shh. It’s okay little one. I promise I won’t let the monsters get you.”
Zoey examines the foal
“ you usually only see this behavior in fluffy mills……”
You see Zoey’s face go pale
“Sis? Did you just say fluffy mill?!”
You go retrieve the document regarding the insemination process
As you read over the names you realize exactly what’s happened
“Oh! Well that’s not good. In fact I’d say this is very much the opposite of good.”
And thus the foal now known as Pickman was under your care
Pickman was exceptionally difficult to care for not because he was rude or noncompliant but rather he was in a constant state of paranoia
He rarely felt safe and the times he did feel safe were spent curled up next to you
You felt genuinely sorry for the little guy
You found some ways to decrease Pickman’s stress levels
A thunder jacket so he never felt alone
A set of tiny blinders to help keep the monsters away
And 1/88th of a gummy bear edible every morning
Pickman started to adjust
He still had problems but for the most part he was able to enjoy life
Pickman was a good fluffy
He gave you snuggles and hugs
It was difficult to get the other fluffies to play with him. Despite your farm breeding and fostering fluffies you sometimes hated them for their cruelty towards others of their kind who were different.
You let Pickman sleep in your bed. You set up a pair of divider so that you can’t roll on to Pickman and he can’t roll off the bed.
Late one night you are awoken by Pickman crying in his sleep
“Nu!!! Hu!!! Hu!!! Munsta weave pickman an mumma lone!!!”
You turn over the comfort him . For the briefest of moments you swear something is behind you. You Feel that if you turn around something bad will happen. You simply wait motionlessly until the feeling stops. You rationally know that nothing was behind you, but some sort of genetic fail safe made you immobile. The feeling of your natural instincts overriding logic and reason scared you deeply. How terrible it must be to have fluffy level intelligence and experience something like this.
Pickman slowly calms down as you gently stroke his back .
You drift back to sleep . Terrible nightmares follows, you are in an aquarium , through the glass you see a hunched figure on the floor of the tank obscured by dream fog , every inch of its blurry frame beset with innumerable eyes each scanning its surroundings in synchronization with one another. In an instant all its eyes lock on you. The figure doesn’t move but you feel yourself slowly getting closer to it as if the spot you were standing on a conveyor belt. You try backing away but you are still being pulled in. It feels like an eternity . Just as you are about to get a good look at it, you jolt awake in a cold sweat.
You turn on your bedside lamp. You get out of bed and go the kitchen. As you exit your bedroom into the hallway you see nothing but feel something watching from the other end of the hallway. You feel as though you are losing your mind. You are terrified of actual nothing. You make your way down the hall and turn into the living room. As you pass the old tv you swear you see something behind you in the screens reflection . You cross over into the kitchen and turn the lights on. You get your favorite cup out of the cabinet and fill it with water. You sit down at the table and slowly sip. You feel pathetic. Scared of everything like some sort of child. You finish your water and head back to your room.
But as you go from the living room to what should be the hallway , you stop dead in your tracks. You are in an aquarium and the tank at the other end has something in it. A figure hunched over on the floor of the tank every inch of its blurry frame beset with innumerable eyes each scanning its surroundings in synchronization with one another. You don’t know what compels you to do this, but you shut your eyes tight. After a long while you open them again. You are back in the hallway of your home. You head back into your room. It’s about ten minutes before you usually get up . You spend those ten minutes just snuggling with Pickman, and your worries subside for the time being.