I had tortured animals before of course. Cats, rabbits, baby rabbits, even a dog. Nothing had felt as good as eating the baby fluffy though. Nothing.
A living, feeling, thinking, talking creature. Talking. How the hell had they managed that? The news reported that Hasbio had created these chimera from a mixture of other animal DNA. Somehow, they had gotten their lawyers to classify their creation as a “BioToy” rather than an animal, thus affording the things no rights at all. Then, two months ago PETA had raided the Hasbio facilities in Chicago, Denver and Los Angeles, setting the creatures free. Now, these cities already have a growing population of “ferals”, and compassionately inclined individuals are even “rescuing” the creatures, whilst the more financially inclined are breeding them and selling them as pets.
The Youtube videos are fueling an insatiable demand for the creatures, which are selling for thousands of dollars. The fools. These fluffy toys have a pregnancy that lasts two weeks, and reach sexual maturity in a month. The early breeders and sellers will make a lot of money, but within the space of a year or two, there will be millions of these creatures, in every home and alleyway, and they will be worthless.
Still, the existence of these things had sparked some interest in me, and that was rare. I looked at the time and saw it was 3am already. I had been reading about these creatures for hours. I thought about closing my laptop to try to sleep.
To my right, I could see Emily, laying naked on my silk sheets, sleeping soundly after the brutal fucking I had subjected her to. I remembered how innocent and naive she had been when I had first hired her, before the beatings. Before I forced myself upon her. Now she was little more than a broken toy, sleeping on her stomach because of the angry red welts tonights whipping had left on her peachy young ass.
I finally did close my laptop, and the darkness enveloped me. I felt alive for the first time in months. Years possibly. Something about the way the creature had cried and begged had awakened something deep within me. No other creature could cry and beg like that, except… I had thought about torturing people. The memory of my parents screams as they died in the fire had stimulated me like nothing else. I had not killed again though, nor tortured anyone, unless one were to count Emily, but that was merely domination and blackmail.
I rolled on to my side. Sleep would avoid me for as long as it could. A strange quirk of my mind meant that I was generally over or under-stimulated, and the events of this evening meant that my mind was active and aglow with possibility. I considered fucking Emily again, to see if orgasm would switch off my thinking, but it was probably a lost cause. The cocaine and the memories of the fluffy creature’s screams were too potent.
Not just the screams though. It begged. It felt DESPAIR. That was what enticed me so, to hold the power of life and death over another, and to laugh at its helplessness. The best part had been when I forced the creature to sing to me, its pathetic song about love and hugs and growing up, followed by its realisation that it would never grow up “big and strong” as I had eaten its legs and was torturing it to death. Its suffering was the sweetest nectar to me.
I wondered again why I was so different from others. My parents had taken me to doctors and specialists. All asking the same questions, concerned about the pets I had killed. Worried about the bullying. Making me answer questions about strange stories, or whether anyone would be upset by certain situations. Making me look at pictures of people’s eyes and trying to guess their emotions. I was capable of passing all of the tests. I even learned things from them, such as the concept of a double bluff, a revelation to a nine year old boy. When they realised that I understood deception and false beliefs, they told my relieved parents that I was not on the autistic spectrum. One of the doctors suspected the truth. I could tell from her nervousness that she didn’t want to communicate her fears to my parents. I realised that her fear was some form of anticipation. Anticipation of a negative consequence, that I didn’t feel in the same way as other human beings. For this reason, I calculated that I would need to lie on some of the later tests. To fake emotions that I did not feel. To pretend to have a soul where there was only a gaping void.
I fooled my parents. Right up until I murdered them.
Insomnia had claimed me, so I decided to claim back the night. Flipping on a bedside light, I gazed down at Emily’s naked form, still sleeping peacefully. She awoke with a squeal of surprise as I held her down and sank my hardened cock into her tight and unwilling vagina.
The next day, we flew to Chicago. I insisted that Emily and my chef accompany me, as well as my driver. Upon arrival at O’Hare, we walked through the express route, avoiding the plebs and their banal little lives. My driver hired a suitable vehicle; a black SUV with polarised windows, and we began our hunt.
Being one of the cities which had had a Hasbio lab, I was hoping we would find more of the fluffy creatures here. We began by finding the former lab, now a burned out ruin, with police crime scene tape still flapping in the wind of the dreary autumn day. I had hoped to find fluffies nearby, but that hope had been too optimistic. The grey concrete of the city offered these creatures nothing to eat, and nowhere to shelter. I had heard on the news that the escaped creatures had started to form “herds”, due to some kind of animal instincts, buried deep within the minds of these Frankenstein-like creations. These “herds” would find food wherever they could, hunting through trash in back alleyways, or behind restaurants, like rat packs and other scavengers. It was to these places that we continued on our hunt.
We drove around the city for more than an hour. I was beginning to become frustrated, but just as I was starting to think my trip had been in vain, I saw the brightly coloured fur that had been meant to be irresistible to children. It was a herd! A small one, with maybe a dozen of the creatures, rummaging through the trash behind a disgusting waffle house. I signalled the driver to pull up nearby, and rolled down the window.
The fluffies saw us and ran deeper into the alleyway. Perhaps they had learned that humans were bad news? I had ways of luring them though, and opened the door, stepping out of the car into the cool chill of the day. Reaching behind me, I took the container of food from Emily, who passed it to me with a look of concern in her eyes. She knew why I had flown out here. I looked deep within her and pulled my flick knife from my pocket, springing the blade out in front of her eyes, as if I were showing her my cock.
“Please David…” she began, but she had learned a long time ago that begging me not to do something merely aroused me further.
I smiled at her, but my eyes remained blank. It was the smile that one of my private school teachers had called a “Shark’s smile”. I turned and walked over to the trash bins, and saw the fluffies hiding in the shadows, between trash bags and inside cardboard boxes. The males stood towards the front, and behind them, the females, some with babies hiding in their fur.
“Fluffies,” I said, trying to sound kind, rather than predatory. No human child would have been fooled by my voice, but these creatures were stupid. I laid the food carton on the floor in front of me, and opened the lid, revealing chicken nuggets, fries and sauce. The smell of the food wafted out and I could see steam rising in the cold autumn air.
“I have brought you some food. Would you like to have some?”
Slowly, a large green fluffy edged forwards. He had a scar across his face, and was missing an eye. Perhaps a cat or other animal had taken it from him. He was clearly the leader of the little herd, and looked like a grizzled veteran. It surprised me to hear his voice when he spoke, sounding like a human toddler.
“Hoomin bwing nummies? Fow heawd?”
I nearly laughed out loud, “Yes!” I exclaimed, “Nummies, for the herd, for all of you. And there is more, if you want it.”
I looked over my shoulder at Emily and the driver, who were holding more cartons. I beckoned them over, and we set out the cartons on the floor, opening them up also. More fluffy faces emerged from the trash heap, opening their mouths and sighing with hunger, but still held back by their fear.
“Nummies?” the leader spoke again, “Fow hewd? Weawy?”
“Yes, come and have some if you want,” I said, beckoning him over.
Slowly and cautiously, the green fluffy crept towards me. He kept switching his gaze between the food and my face, as if expecting me to grab him. He reached forwards to start eating, and I slammed the lid shut, making him spring back a foot or two.
“I will give you nummies, but what will you give me in return?” I demanded.
“Giv hoomin?” the fluffy asked, suprised at my sudden change of heart. “Fwuffy can give… bestest huggies? Fwuffies gud at giv huggies!” he beamed with obvious pride.
My laughter rang out across the barren concrete.
“I don’t want your huggies little fluffy. But there is one thing…”
“Wat ting?” the hungry fluffy asked, bolder now, “Wat nice mistah want hav fow giv nummies?”
“Well,” I began, trying my best to sound sad and lonely, “I am a very lonely man. I live on my own, and would really like some fluffies to live with me, I…”
“Nice mistah wan be nyu daddah! Giv home fow hewd?” the fluffy asked, looking to me like some kind of saviour.
“NO!” I shouted, suddenly kicking myself as the fluffy backed off further, and other fluffies disappeared back into the trash. “No, not the whole herd. But I could take some of you. I could adopt some fluffy babies. I would give them a home, and nummies and huggies.” The language of these pathetic creatures disgusted me, but I needed to communicate in a way they would understand.
“Wan… babbeh fluffies?” the green leader asked.
“Yes,” was my simple reply.
“Fwuffy need tawk wiv herd, ask fwuffy mummahs an babbehs,”
For the next few minutes, I tried desperately not to laugh, as the herd leader conversed with the other fluffies in the pitiful baby talk that they all spoke in. There were raised voices, and cries of “Nu! Babbehs need mummah!” followed by other cries about “wowstest tummeh owwies” and “sooo hungy”. Eventually, the fluffies decided that without nummies, they and the babies would have “forever sleepies” and so they decided it was a fair deal.
Emerging from the trash heap, the herd tentatively stepped forwards, towards the rapidly cooling food. The mother was crying, and nudging her babies towards us with her nose.
“Gud babbehs,” she wept, “Go see nice nyu daddah… Daddah wiww giv yu nummies and huggies and wuv, and nice wawm housie.”
The fearful babies crept up towards me. They were thin and malnourished, and shaking, though whether from fear or simply the cold, I could not tell. They were red, blue, white and brown, perhaps a couple of weeks old, so big enough to talk and eat solid foods as well as drinking milk. The rest of the fluffies were adults.
“OK,” I said, “If you let me have all the babies, I will let the herd eat.”
“Nu!” cried the mother, stepping forward to protect her young, “Nu take aww da babbehs! Pwease wet mummah keep bestest babbeh!” she said, nuzzling the white baby with the blue mane, which looked similar to her cream coloured fur and purple mane.
“ALL of the babies, or you will get NOTHING.” I demanded.
“Pwease nice mistah…” the leader interjected
“Pwease nu take aww babbehs…” the mother cried.
“ALL OF THEM,” I told her in my harshest voice.
“Huuu huu huuu… nu wan giv away babbehs… but sooo hungy… pwease just take twee babbehs… huu huuu huuu…”
“All of them,” I repeated, quieter this time, closing the lid on the food again.
“Huuu huuu huu… huuu huu huuu…” I waited patiently as the mother cried. I could tell from her broken weeping that she had given up trying to keep her babies, and the inpatient shuffling from the rest of the herd showed that they had already made their minds up. She would give up her babies so that she and the others could eat.
“Otay den… mistah can hav babbehs… pwease be nice to dem an giv dem nummies and wuv…”
“Of course I will,” I lied, smiling with satisfaction. These creatures were much easier to fool than human beings.
The herd sighed with relief, and rushed forwards to start eating the food from the cartons. The mother and her babies also ate their fill, although they flinched away from my hand at first when I began to stroke them.
“Fank you nice mistah,” the green leader said, as he started to consume more food than he had likely eaten in a week.
I watched as the whole herd ate its fill. Eventually, the containers were empty, and the starving fluffies had licked the last of the sauce from the bottom of the cartons. They backed off a little, wondering what I would do next.
“Give me the babies now,” I said quietly.
“Nu! Nu wanna leave mummah!” one of the babies cried.
“Nu wanna go! Nu wanna go!” another started. Soon, they were all crying.
“Wittew babbehs gotta go wiv nice mistah. Mistah hav gib hewd wotsa nummies, so hewd gotta gib babbehs,” the herd leader explained, blinking back his tears.
“Mummah wuv babbehs,” the mother told them, hugging them goodbye for the last time. The babies all wept but hugged her back. “Nice mistah wiww be nyu daddah, giv nummies an wuv an warm housie.”
One by one, the miserable babies hugged their mother goodbye, and slowly walked over to me. I picked them up and put three of them in one of the empty food cartons. Closing the lid, I handed it to Emily, ignoring their cries of “nu wike!” and “Scawy dawk bawks!”
Lifting the blue foal up by the scruff of its neck, I spoke to the herd, ignoring its squeals and cries of “bad upsies!”
“This is what happens when you trust a stranger little fluffies. I’m not going to give these babies a good home. I’m going to hurt them. I’m going to hurt them very, very badly.”
Brandishing my flick-knife, I held the wriggling baby firmly with my other hand, and sank the blade into its stomach, quickly slicing it open. Before the fluffies or the baby could react, I squeezed it so hard that blood and intestines started falling out of its abdomen and onto the cold concrete. Only then did the baby react, and scream.
“AAAAIIIIEEEE!” it wailed.
The fluffies were staring at me in open mouthed shock. They simply could not believe what I had done. One minute I was the nice “new daddah” who was feeding them and adopting their babies, and the next, I was disembowelling one of them before their very eyes.
“Aaiieee… Aieee… aiiee…” the baby screamed again and again, sucking in rasping breaths between each shriek.
“Nuu! Babbeh!” the mother cried, breaking the herd’s stunned silence.
“Nu huwt babbehs!” the leader cried, and charged me.
It was pathetic and hilarious, all at the same time. The leader ran at my legs, and I stood up, laughing as he rammed into me, bending over to dangle the dying baby in front of his nose, only to whisk it away when he tried to save it. I taunted him, and the herd, and the mother. Telling them that all the babies would be horribly hurt, that I would spend days or weeks torturing them, and that they were stupid and bad fluffies for trusting me. The others didn’t know what to do, and cried and begged for me to put the babies down, or to let the other babies out of the “sorry box”, but I merely laughed and continued to taunt them. Eventually, I tired of my game, and pitched the bleeding baby as hard as I could into a nearby wall. It splatted on impact, and fell to the floor.
“Babbeh!” the mother cried, and ran over to her still living, but crippled and disembowelled infant.
“Yu BAD hoomin!” the herd leader cried, still trying to knock me over with its pitiful strength.
I looked down at him for a moment, then began kicking him and stamping on him. He continued fighting me for a moment, but then I snapped several of his ribs. His anger turned to fear, and he turned to run, but I stamped down hard on his back legs, snapping them clean in half and causing bones to splinter out from his fluffy flesh.
“Aaaaieie!” he screamed, “AAAIIEIEE!”
Bending down, I rolled over the crippled fluffy. He looked up at me in terror. Grasping his little fluffy penis with one hand, I quickly cut it from his body with my knife.
“SCREEEEEEEEEE!” He wailed like a possessed banshee. I took the opportunity to drop his bleeding penis into his open mouth.
“I will do this to all the babies, and will make sure that they die SLOWLY and HORRIBLY.” I told the herd. They all turned tail and ran.