Providence (by TistyJoe)

I wrote this as a multipart series many years ago on the original Booru. There are themes and ideas that may not resonate fully with the current canon, but this is what I wrote with some grammar corrections and what not. Reader discretion is advised cause it starts hard and it only goes from there.


“Absolutely worthless”

I knew that I shouldn’t have done that, but the damage was done. Blood pooled around me and my vision began to tunnel.

“Completely useless. Couldn’t even do this one thing right.”

The blue and red stars above flashed and danced. People were shouting, but I didn’t hear their words.

I couldn’t.

All I could hear was the rushing in my ears.
The thumping in my chest and my head.
The screaming in my dreams.

The screams seemed to be the most coherent.

`“NUUUU! PWEASE SKY MISTAH! PWEASE GET OFF MUMMAH!”
“'SPECWUL FWEND! NUUUUU! HUUUHUUUHUUUU!”

The voices washed over me like the haunting voices of my own regrets. Memories began to clash with the present and my mind felt like it was going to collapse in on itself.

“Must be providence…” I muttered.

The world spun faster and faster until I finally had to shut my eyes and slipped into the darkness.

And still the screams continued.

“MUMMAH! MUMMAH! PWEASE DON’T WEAVE BABBEHS!”
“MEANIE SKY MISTAH! WHY HEWT HERD!?”

===============================================================================

I opened my eyes to the light.

There was nothing but the light.

Then there was a second light and a third.

And faces, concerned and professional.

“Can you hear me, son?” One voice asked.

All I could do was blink.

“Jesus what a mess…” Another said, turning away to avoid wretching.

“We’re going to have to move him. And will someone shut those damn fluffies up!” The first voice commanded.

Fluffies?

Why did they bring fluffies?

I knew the police departments were getting their budgets cut but I didn’t think they’d replaced their dogs with fluffies.

“You know, you’re one lucky son of a bitch.” An older man said, as I was gently laid onto a flat board.

I would have laughed if it didn’t hurt so damn bad. I didn’t really see how I had ended up lucky.

“I’ve dealt with a lot of jumpers, but you’re the first I’ve ever seen to survive.” The paramedic said solemnly.

“Though I bet it’s not how they though they’d spend their night” He motioned over to where I had been laying.

I managed to look and see what he meant.

A fluff pile.

A fucking fluff pile.

I really wanted to laugh now. The irony seemed almost palpable. What were the odds? The night I decide to kill myself and jump off a bridge, I land on a fucking pile of fluffies and survive. The pile looked flatter than it normally would. And deader.

But they had saved my life.

My life.

The life of a guy who killed fluffies for fun.

The guy who would skin foals alive in front of their mothers.

The guy who had lost every single meaningful relationship he had because he couldn’t get over this bizarre obsession with hurting fluffies.

The guy who for the last six months had to drink a bottle of scotch a night to get the screams out of his head so he could sleep.

The guy who walked to the bridge one night and threw himself into the void, just to make it all stop.

Just to be saved by fluffies.

As the paramedics started to load me into the ambulance, one of the police officers on the scene came up with a small box that was chirping and crying.

“These are all the babies we could find. There were some others but they were near dead so…” He trailed off.
“What should I do with these?”

Without waiting for any answer, I weakly reached over and took one out of the box and held it to my chest.
It was a small purple pegasus with a blue tail, crying and chirping, its eyes still shut.

“Sorry little guy” I wheezed, struggling through the pain. “I’ll do my best to make it up to you.”
The little foal started to settle a bit and fell asleep on top of me.

“Must be fate.” One of the paramedics said as they finished loading me into the ambulance.

“Nah” I smiled weakly

“This one’s Providence.”


Weeks passed and wounds healed.

At least the physical ones.

“EEEEE!!! WHY DADDEH HATE FWUFFY!?!”

It needed to die.

I knew that I had to kill it.

I had to bash it’s pathetic head in.
I had to torture it’s babies until it-

STOP.

Stop.

And breathe.

Count to ten.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
Breathe again.

I opened my eyes and I saw it. The vase knocked to the floor. The glass scattered everywhere. And then him, looking up at me as I held him tightly

Providence.

Looking as innocent and as cute as the day I got him.
When I leapt off the bridge and killed most of his herd…

“D-daddeh? Am sowwey daddeh…” The purple and blue freak was looking at me with its big eyes, its chubby cheeks, and its disgusting be-

NO! Not disgusting…Not freak…Just… just different…

I took a deep breath and looked at the little creature in my hands.
I wanted to throw him against a wall . I wanted to tear him in half . I wanted to use him as a meat puppet.

And he could tell.

“A-a-am sowwy daddeh. Pwovi no mean to-”

I squeezed.

He yelped. My blood rose and the ringing in my ears grew louder. I wanted to kill this fluffy. I wanted to break all of his legs. I wanted to rip his tongue out and feed it to his babies. I wanted to-

STOP!

“D-daddeh? Pwease don-”

His voice brought me back to reality. Unfortunately, reality meant…

“Provi…Please…shut the fuck up…”

He looked at me with those eyes… those… FUCKING EYES

“I’m begging you right now, please shut up and go to sleep.”

I looked at this little pathetic creature. He looked at me with tears in his eyes; his pleading little eyes.

He knew I could hurt him badly. I knew I didn’t want to. But still…I wantedNEEDED

“Please Provi. Just be quiet” I took a deep breath and looked the little bastard in the eye. “Please…I don’t want to hurt you, but…”

He lowered his gaze and stifled a sob “Am sowwy daddeh…wiww go to swe-”

I squeezed harder “You’re not that bright, are you?”

He screeched…


…and shit herself.

I knew this little cunt was going to die.
Just like every other fluffy I had gotten, she HAD to die.
She was such a bitch.
Screaming at me about her ‘wittwe babbehs’.
I crammed two of them down her throat.

"Here’s a little test for you, dumbass.’ I said, laughing as I began to skin the last of her foals. “What is five minus four?”

“PWEASE!” She gasped “cough No cough huwt babbehs! Pwease nice mistah! No more huwties!”

I laughed, my laugh bringing forth every bit of hate in me.

“Not that bright, are you?”

I cut the last foals throat and held it in front of its mother.

“LOOK WHAT YOU DID CUNT! YOU CAUSED THIS YOU DUMB BITCH!” The blood of the foal sprayed and soaked its mother. “YOU ARE THE WORST ‘MUMMAH’ EVER!”

The mare sobbed.
And sobbed.
And sobbed.

Suddenly, she stopped; looked at me with the full depth of sorrow in her eyes and in her soul, and chomped down through her tongue.

It took less than 10 seconds for her to drown in her own blood.

My soul felt full as I washed in the pain of the-


NO!

STOP!

THIS ISN’T YOU!

THIS ISN’T WHAT YOU’VE BECOME!

THIS ISN’T WHAT DRIVES YOU ANYMOR-

“D-daddeh?” Providence looked up with his full eyes.

I snapped out of my fury and looked at him, loosening my grip on him.

“Oh my god…” I held him close and collapsed, crying.

“I’m so sorry, Provi…I’m…” I started sobbing harder and harder.

Provi just hugged me, his programming forcing him to react in the only way he knew how, still though fully unsure of me and what I might do.

It had been three months since I had tried to kill myself by jumping off of that bridge.

And I was thinking about trying again.


Time passed. Demons grew.


Focusing in on my target, my fists struck true.

The speed bag bounced back and forth.

Faster and faster.

I kept hitting and hitting and hitting.

The ringing in my ears was so loud, I couldn’t hear anything else.

Not that it mattered.

The screams had stopped a while ago.

I unzipped the speed bag and out poured ten foals.

Ten little sacks of blood and broken bones. None of them were moving.

I distributed them amongst the cages, enough for each food bowl. “There’s your dinner, shitbags!”

The fluffies all cowered as far from me as they could. Could you blame them?

I’d cower from me too.

I started walking slowly, cage to cage.

When I stopped in front of a cage with two fluffies and their two remaining babies, they knew their time was up.

I opened the cage, but before I even had a chance to reach into the cage, the ‘mummah’ bit the head off of one of her foals, tears streaming down her face as she choked down her baby.

They knew it was a quicker and much cleaner death that what I had in store for them.

As she mercy killed one foal, the daddy fluff took care of the other. He smashed the little thing’s head into the floor, not stopping even when the foal’s head was nothing but mush.

Two fluffies dead, and I hadn’t raised a finger.

The couple looked up at me, defiance in their eyes.

A smile creeped onto the corners of my mouth as I closed their cage and turned and walked away.

As I was leaving the ‘guest’ room, the two brave parents realized what they had done, and what I hadn’t.

Their sobs and wails echoed throughout my apartment.

I laid down on my bed, a lumpy misshapen couch, and slipped to sleep to the screams of heartbroken fluf-


I gasped awake in a cold sweat, with screams still echoing in my head.

I was in my bed. An actual bed in my house. Dead silence wafted through the house.

“God fucking damnit…” I looked at my phone.

3:42 am.

I didn’t even bother trying to go back to sleep.

I got out of bed and headed down the hall to the kitchen.

On the way, I stop at a door.

A plain, innocent looking door.

I carefully and quietly cracked it open, peeking in.

There he was.

Providence.

Asleep in his little bed.

With his little blanket.

And his little fucking pathetic stupid ass stuff-

Stop.

I gently shut the door and continued to the kitchen.

I started making some coffee and turned on the tv.

Since the only things on were infomercials on how to improve my life, I settled for silence and turned the tv off.

I poured a cup of coffee, sat at the kitchen table, and stared into the dark brown liquid.

I stared at it, looking deeper and deeper, wondering the whole time, if Nietzche was right.

The abyss didn’t seem to be too forthcoming with answers.

I took a sip of the coffee and went back to staring, drifting off into my thoughts of…


…violence.

Pure ultra-violence.

That’s the only thing that could describe what I was doing.

Fluffies ran all around me, screaming and shitting.
My arms were soaked in blood up past my elbows.
I stomped left and right, crushing a fluffy with each step.

I picked up a mare and ripped her in half, showering both myself and the few stupid fluffies that tried to hide from me behind my own legs with a spray of gore and half formed fetuses.

My laugh cut through the screams and the chaos.

I dropped the mare halves and stomped my way out of the room.

Nature was calling.

I opened the door to my bathroom and heard whimpering and sobbing.

I had forgotten about these fucks. I had thrown them into my bathtub shower about a day and a half ago.

A mummah and her three babies.

I turned on the light and they all started babbling and chirping.

Opening the shower door, they all looked at me, the mummah standing on her hind legs, begging “Upsies daddeh? Fwuffy need hugs and nummies…Babbehs need miwkies and- AGGHHH!”

Before the dumb bitch could continue, I blasted her right in the mouth with a steady stream of piss.

Her foals tried to scramble to her, but I washed them back with my piss.
I focused on one of the little shits, drowning him right then and there.

As the three remaining fluffies coughed and threw up all the piss they had involuntarily swallowed, I turned on the shower on full cold and shut the shower door.

Laughing and turning out the bathroom light, I slammed the door behind me and returned to the fun room, ready to-


I snapped back to reality.

Sighing, I took a sip of my coffee and almost spit it out. It was ice cold.
Looking at the clock on the stove, the time read 7:23 am.
Had I really spaced out for that long?
I dumped out the cold coffee and was getting ready to make a new cup when I saw them.

A herd.

A fucking feral herd.

In my back-fucking-yard.

The typical smarty was enfing a baby as the rest were devouring every soft plant they could find.

I felt my blood pressure spike. I could see myself eviscerating this herd. I heard a soft knocking and pleading, begging for his breakfast and-

I turned from the window and calmly walked back to the safe room.

Opening the door, I found Providence, sitting, looking up at me with his big expressive eyes. Sighing and smiling, I picked him up and held him close to me. He started cooing, burrowing his head in my chest and trying his best to wrap his little legs around me.

Suddenly, he perked up “Pwovi heaw fwuffies!”

So could I.

Something was screaming from the back yard.

Something that desperately needed me to kill it.

Something that needed to be truly hurt, deep down to its cor-

STOP!

This isn’t you.

This isn’t what you’ve got a fluffy right here…smash its fucking skull open. Rip its guts out. Make it cry…

I quickly put Providence down KILLHIM and went about our usual morning routine SMASHIT

I emptied out his SKINHIM litter box

I opened the RIPHIM curtains to let in some light

I filled his food bowl BEATHIM and water bottle

I told him he was a DISGUSTINGPIECEOFSHIT good fluffy and that I would KILLANDRAPEHISCORPSE be back later and we would TEARHIMINSIDEOUT play and have sketties.

He bounced around, excited as could be, before hugging my leg and proclaiming me to be the best daddy ever.

I gave him a quick pat on the head and practically ran out of the safe room. I knew what was about to happen. And I knew I couldn’t stop it.

I returned to the kitchen and turned on the sink. I splashed cold water on my face and looked out into the backyard again. I saw the smarty eating the baby he had just been raping.

Sighing, I knew the answer to my own question from earlier.

Nietzsche was wrong.

The abyss doesn’t stare back.

Turns out, it’s just a fucking mirror.


Going out to the backyard, I was completely focused.

I couldn’t hear him. Other voices were drowning him out.

I didn’t want to anyways. FUCKINGKILLHIM

I took the time of the initial meeting to block the hole in my fence that these little shits had used to infiltrate my yard.

The smarty was screaming his usual diatribe.

His land. RIPTHELEGS I was stupid. SMASHHISHEAD I had to give him everything. TEARHIMTO-

SHUT. UP.

I decided to take this one slow.

“Okay.”

He looked shocked. I had taken the wind out of his sails.

“Weww…DAT’S WIGHT!!! AWAYS WISTEN TO SMAWTY DUMMEH HOOMIE!!!”

A smirk touched my face, but I bid it away.

“I’ll give you everything and more if you play my game with me little guy.”

He pondered, trying to wrack his little smarty brain around my proposal.

I took the time to look at the rest of the herd.

It was a smaller herd; only 8 fluffies, counting the smarty and the babies.

Him, three mares, a single stallion, and three babies. Judging by how one of the mares was sobbing uncontrollably, I could guess that the baby the smarty had just been violating was hers. The other stallion was doing his best to console her, but he was little help.

The smarty perked up, finally reaching a conclusion.

“OTAY!! Smawty pway yo wittwe game. BUT NO TWICKS!!!” He puffed up his cheeks and chest, trying to look big and brave.

“I’d never even dream of it.” I said, fighting hard not snap. I moved a small table into the yard and set the smarty on it, much to his chagrin.

“This is a very simple game little buddy,” I smiled sweetly and held out two closed fists.

“One or two?”

I might as well had asked the little bastard to go to the moon.

“Wha? Fwuffy no understand…”

I sighed “Pick. One or two?”

“To?” He said, pointing one hoof to my left hand, still completely unsure of the game

Reaching down, I scratched behind both of his ears. He immediately started cooing.

I knew the game was on.

“Next round,” I said, still smiling and holding both fists up “3 or 4?”

“FO’!” He shouted excitedly pointing to the left one again, jumping with pure glee and joy.

I grabbed him and punched him in the stomach. HARD. As the breath wheezed out of him, I hit him three more times in rapid succession. He laid on the table, trying as hard as he could to find his breath. I stood over him, unable to stop the smile from spreading ear to ear.

Yessssss

“Five or six?” I asked.

The smarty coughed, wheezed, and cried.

“No wan play anymowe…” He sputtered. I felt the ringing build in my ears.

“Tough shit.” YES He looked up at me with desperate eyes. “Finish the game and we can stop. Five or six?”

The fluffy pushed himself up onto his feet. “Fiv…?”

Pulling a pocket knife out, I carved the Roman numeral V into his side. I made sure to get it deep and permanent, going over the cut again and again, getting it deeply ingrained into his flesh. The deeper I went, the harder he screamed.

Tossing the knife to the side, I leaned down “Seven or eight?”

The smarty was sobbing incomprehensibly. I gave him a light slap on the wound.

“SCREEEEEE! NO MO HUWTIES!!!” He screamed, flailing uselessly.

“SEVEN. OR. EIGHT?”

“…ate…?”

Time to rock.

With quick succession, I broke all four of his limbs one at a time.

Then slowly, I twisted each of the legs off.

The ringing filled my ears had drowned out the screaming. Glancing at the herd, I saw that all of the mares were cowering in a corner of my yard, with the other stallion bravely attempting to put himself between me and him. Granted, he had pissed and shit himself, but still a valiant attempt.

“Last round little buddy. Finish this one and you get sketties and enfie babies and whatever else your little shit eating mind could fathom. Nine or Ten?” I was close to gone at this point. I knew that this was going to get even uglier.

The smarty was almost completely destroyed. He was sobbing, unconsolable, and had almost fully regressed to a foallike state.

“Hey…” I tilted his chin up to where he was looking in my eyes. “Nine or Ten?”

“…Huhuhu…Ten?” The smarty answered. I never had seen a more pathetic creature in my life. He still truly believed that I would take care of him if he made it through this game. He truly believed that he could survive this encounter. He truly believed that he had some degree of control.

What a fucking idiot.

I took a plastic bag and stretched it across the smarty’s face. I began slowly counting to ten out loud.

“One…two…”

I looked at the group of fluffies.

“Three…four…”

The fluffies all shit.

“Five…six…”

The smarty’s struggle started to slow.

“Seven…eight…”

I felt the full euphoria. I felt the full joy. I knew that this was what was right. I glanced back at the house and smiled at Providence sitting in the window.

“Nine…te-”

Wait…

What the fuck?
How is he there?

How is Providence out of his safe room?

The world collapsed.

Everything rushed back into me.

There I was.

Standing in my back yard.

Holding a suffocated fluffy.

Looking at the fluffy that had saved my life.

The ringing was gone. The voices were silenced.

Dropping the suffocated fluffy, I felt the whole world tremble. I walked over to the rest of the herd. They all cowered into the corner.

“Listen to me.” I said to the last stallion. “You seem to care. Take these fluffs and go. Go far. Far away from me. Take care of your herd and don’t act like your smarty.” I opened the back gate in my yard.

Without any words, the stallion nodded and rushed the rest of the herd out. Shutting the gate, I was once again left with my thoughts.

Unfortunately, they were not too forthcoming.

I looked back again at the house. Providence was still in the window, eyes wide and filled with fright. I tossed the smarty’s corpse into the trash and made my way back inside. By the time I was there, Provi had scurried back to his saferoom.

Standing in the doorway, I saw Provi cowering in his litterbox, tears streaming down his cheeks.

He hates you.

“Am sowwy daddeh…no mean to weav-”

Why wouldn’t he?

“Provi. It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”

Liar

“Weawwy?”

“Really.” I smiled as best as I could. “He was a bad fluffy…” I choked out. “He had to be puni…” At last, my words failed me, and I collapsed into sobs.

I could have driven them away. I could have kept my hands clean. I could have.

I was on my last thread and was desperate to hold on to it. I reached out to Providence and knew that he was my only chance at redeeming myself.

My last hope shied away from me and cried, believing that I was an absolute nightmare.

I cried harder, knowing he was right.


I tried.

I tried so god damn hard.

But the only conclusion I could come to was simple.

Fuck it.
Fuck him.
Fuck everything.

I looked down at him.

Providence.

There he was. Tied up and gagged and sitting in a plastic tub.

I knew where I was. I knew what I had done. I knew what I was going to do.

I knew.

There was nothing that could save me.

Or him.

Especially him.

There was nothing left in me but hate.
Absolute HATE.

I grabbed one of the feral fluffies that I had spent the last day gathering. I jammed a dull hook through his rear hooves and hung him over the tub. He screamed and pleaded. I picked up a knife and I brought it to his throat. He begged and protested. I drew a line on his neck from ear to ear with the knife.

He gurgled and died.

I watched as the blood poured down onto Provi, soaking him and pooling all around him. I could tell that the hatred was satisfied. The voices had stopped screaming at me.

Taking a second fluffy out, I hung him up in the same way as the first, but I stabbed it a few times in the gut. This one would die slower. MUCH slower.

Providence flailed around as best he could to get away from the stream of blood, but there was nowhere for him to go.

“WET SMARTY GO!” The next fluffy I grabbed was a feisty one. “WET HEWD GO!! GIB SKETTIES AND TOYSIES AND ENFIE BABBEHS AND GET WOSTEST HUWTIES!!”

I let him ramble for a few more moments, before holding him down and ripping his jaw off. “GAAGHHK!” I cut out his tongue and hung him up with the others. At this point, Provi was almost completely submerged in fluffy blood.

Deciding to take a break, I left the basement and went into my backyard for a smoke.

Get back in there.

I took a deep drag and sighed.

I wanna see it drown.

I took another drag and sat down on a step. The sun was starting to go down and the sky to the west looked red. As red as all that fluffy blood. As red as…

You really thought you could change didn’t you? That you weren’t an absolute monster. That you deserve any happiness.

I crushed the cigarette butt under my heel and stood up.

“You know what, you’re right. I’m a fucking dumpster fire.” Hahaha I’m glad you finally accept the tru- “Might as well go out with a bang.” -Wait…what?

I returned inside and before I went back downstairs, I got the handgun I keep in my nightstand.
What are you doing?

As I slowly walked back towards the basement, the voice began to sound worried.

You think you can just get rid of me that easily? You tried once and failed.

I got a bottle of scotch out of the liquor cabinet and took a long swig, before heading down into the basement.

YOU ABSOLUTE CRETIN DO NOT DO THIS I CANNOT BE SILENCED I WILL NOT-

I turned the lights on and looked to my masterpiece and to the blood drowned fluffy and the-

“Wait…What the actual hell?”

…where are the fluffies?

All of the hanging ones were gone. The bucket of blood was still there, but there was no sign of any tortured fluffy within. Just blood all around the tub.

I walked over to it and looked in at the deep red pool. Five dead fluffies floated in the pool. They must have fallen down into the tub, but that wasn’t what got my attention. It was the little face looking up at me that I really noticed.

No fucking way “What are the odds?” Really fucking slim. “The mare must have been pregnant.” Bullshit.

The little face began moving around. Reaching down into the pool of blood, I felt a little body and pulled it out. This thing was a little smaller than a fluffy, no ears or tail, and seemed to be quite happy.

For the first time in a long time, I only heard silence.

I took the little guy upstairs, leaving the scotch and pistol in the basement. I cleaned him off in the sink, finding that his fur was still the same deep red color.

I had read about these guys before, but I had figured them to just be a story. Something to scare bad fluffies. But here he was. Real as can be. I laughed, “To think, I was planning on ending it today. Though I guess it’s a good pairing, the freak and the dumpster fire. Well, we need to figure out a name for you little guy.”

And the jellenheimer smiled.

6 Likes

Huh, cute story.