Read the previous parts here:
Rosebud - Prequel (EchoBro)
Rosebud - Part 1 (EchoBro)
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The next days were filled with pain and hunger.
Mark constantly came and teased both Snowball and Rosebud. Sometimes he would pick the foal up by her tail and shake her, and other times, when stressed, he used the mare’s face as a punching bag, he still wanted the other foals after all.
Days passed, and the string tightened onto Rosebud’s leg had cut off the circulation, leaving the limb with a sick purple color and horrible smell. Snowball was always trying to bite at the string to tear it off, but to no avail.
One day, Mark entered the basement once again but that horrible, dead smell was unbearable, coming from both the dead foals and the necrotic leg of Rosebud. He had to solve this, NOW.
As the man approached, Snowball panicked once again, the toll of the physical punishments and pregnancy weakened her even more. “P-pweas… daddeh… no mowe… tu many huwties…” The dam pleaded, her voice almost whisper-like due to her constant pain of all previous abuses.
However, Mark pushed her aside and looked at the foal. She had already opened her eyes now and could barely talk, smaller than a normal foal due to malnutrition and the fact that her mother’s milk had already dried. These big pink eyes of hers looked in pain at the abuser’s cold eyes.
“Peep… daddeh… weggie owwies… hewp babbeh… pip…” She begged, trembling. She knew that the man wouldn’t spare her, but still tried due to programming. Mark took some rusty scissors from his pocket and, after pressing the foal onto the table with his finger, put the blade onto her necrotic leg.
“M-MUMMAH! EEEEE! HEWP! AM ONWY WIDDOW BABBEH!” Her tiny hooves were tapping frantically onto the table as she tried to get away, but it was no use, he was too strong for a babbeh like her, until…
SNAP
Kinda easily, the scissors’ blade tore through Rosebud’s dead leg and cut it off, a violent spray of blood coming from the stump right after as Mark took the amputated limb and threw it into a bag alongside the dead foals.
“There we go. Now go cry for your mother, stupid bitch.” He threw the foal back at Snowball, her uselessly making a motion to grab her babbeh despite having no limbs anymore. It landed near the mare’s face and she started licking the wound almost immediatelly while crying, begging for forgiveness to the poor foal to try and soothe her. “Mummah sowwy… Mummah hewe… Wickies wiww make ebewyfing bettah… Mummah hewe, nu cwy…”
The mare was desperate as Mark left the basement laughing at their misery and left them in the dark once again, still licking her foal’s wound to stop the bleeding. Her poor babbeh was hurt in front of her and she couldn’t do anything about it. She failed her babbehs once again. She was the worst mummah. She wanted to die.
5 days later
Rosebud, now a walkie babbeh, struggled to take her actual first steps with her right rear leg missing, a scarred stump replacing it now, and due to being underdeveloped for her age. “Peep. Mummah! Wook! Am making wawkies!” Her mother, despite falling completely into hopelessness by now, still tried to motivate her offspring, as Rosebud was the only foal she ever got to see grow up instead of dying right away. “Make wawkies, babbeh! Mummah so pwoud of yu’. Wiww wun away an’ find gud homesies when gwow up.”
However, this peaceful moment was cut short when the basement door was opened once again. Mark was there, visibly altered this time with a bottle on his hand.
“You… fuckers…” He whispered with a sick grin on his lips, walking slowly down the stairs as another torture approached them. He was drunk, and when he got this way, the hurties were way worse. Snowball knew this very well. “Let’s even… hic…some things out…”
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To be continued.
