Trudging along in a seemingly endless line of fluffies was a dark green fluffy with a golden mane and large wings. She was sure she had gone to forever sleepies but here she was among more fluffies than she had ever seen or could have even imagined. Was this Skettiland? Mummah told her once that all good fluffies got to go to Skettiland when they went to forever sleepies. But this couldn’t be Skettiland. It was for good fluffies, and she was one of the worst fluffies ever.
Clover lived a happy life, well loved and taken care of by her human family. One fateful day she was playing in the yard, chasing around a butterfly that happened to pay a visit. Laughing and giggling and enjoying the sunshine.
Randal White hated the damn thing. So happy. So carefree. His life had been a mess. Wife left him just because he had to correct her behavior a few times. Took the kids too. Bitch. And right next door was this little bundle of joy and sunshine. He grumbled and peered over the fence, planning to yell at the dumb thing for making too much noise.
Instead, he realized that the Krumpts had left their fluffy unsupervised.
“Hewwo mistuh Wandies!” Clover beamed as she spotted her neighbor, “Ams sowwy if fwuffy ams tu woud, wiww be moh quiets!”
Randal hopped the fence and grabbed the fluffy, forcing its maw shut with his hand. Clover Flailed about in terror, trying to call for help. It wouldn’t come, she couldn’t make a sound. Randal carried her away and threw her into his basement. He’d have to come up with something fun for the idiot horse, but for now the sweet sound of crying would have to do.
“Su… su sscawed!” Clover was terrified out of her little mind. One minute she was having a blast playing with a wingie buggie, the next she’s tossed down a staircase in a dark dark room. She tried to get up, but her back leggie wouldn’t listen. “Weggie, pwease! Needs tu gets tu mummah!”
Her leg refused to listen. The shock faded and the pain hit her. She threw up. “Huuuhuuu… hurties! Suh many huwties!”
Clover had made it to the front of the line without even realizing it. A brown fluffy with a poofy dark brown mane stylized into pigtails smiled at her and beckoned her forward to a well decorated desk loaded with all sorts of pastries.
“Hewwo Cwovah. Dis ams da Pasta Pallisade ob Skettiwand. Yu knows wat skettiwand ams?” Clover nodded and the mare gestured for her to take a seat in front of the desk. “Fiwst, wes gotta figuwe out if yous a good fwuffy ow a bad fwuffy.”
Oh. That’s why she was here. They hadn’t figured out she was a bad fluffy yet. “Ams bad fwuffy. Wowstest fwuffy.”
Eclair winced. Any fluffy that said they were bad without prompting was going to have had a bad time in life, “Fwen, nuh bad fwuffy says dey ams bad. Ams kinda funnies dat way. Wets take a wook and see youw stowies.”
On the desk the events of Clover’s life played out in fast forward. Good chirpy, good babbeh, good fluffy. At least until it all came crashing down when Randal kidnapped her. The footage slowed down as Eclair watched intently. Clover was in shock. Nothing good happened in that basement. “Pwease. Nuh wan sees. Dis ams wowest times!”
“Yu cans wook away, Cwovah. Ams otay.” Eclair said, not taking her eyes off the scene.
Randal had been busy. Playing the part of the concerned neighbor he joined the search for the missing pet. “Real terrible, hate to see a pet go missing like this.” he said, playing up his sympathies.
Clover wasn’t found. But Randal did find a litter of abandoned foals. He grew a wicked grin. Snatching up the foals he brought them down to the basement. The peeps and concerned chirps were annoying but they wouldn’t last long.
“Have food for you, shitrat.” Randal dropped the foals onto the ground. One died instantly from the impact. The others were cushioned by the first. A few broken limbs, but otherwise fine. Screeching and shitting followed.
“Here’s your meal, Clover. Enjoy.” Randal made his way back up the stairs and watched from the top. It’d been half a day since he kidnapped the fluffy, she had to be starving.
Clover looked at the pile of babies with disbelief. Babies were for love! She never had any of her own, her mummah took her wady wumps, but even she knew that you weren’t supposed to drop babies! “Mistuh Wandaw, wai yu huwt babbehs?” She asked as she crawled over to the crying mass of fluff. “Ams otay babbehs, Cwovah ams hewe, gib huggies ans cweanies.”
Clover proceeded to pick up the foals one by one, doing her best to lick off the gore and feces. The bleeding had largely stopped by now, fluffies were blessed with absurdly effective coagulation. One of the foals had gone to forever sleepies. She cried for it. “Ams sowwy babbeh. Ams su sowwies.”
Randal rolled his eyes, “These foals are the only food you’re going to get, I wouldn’t get too attached if I were you.”
Clover looked up the stairs in horror. “Buh babbehs nuh ams nummies! Babbehs ams foh huggies!”
“Ecwair can sees wewe dis ams goin’…” The mare sighed and pressed a big red button on her desk. She was a smart girl, one of mummah’s favorites, but nuance in terms of good and bad wasn’t her strong suit, “Ams cawwing foh mummah tu hewp. Buh foh nao, gonna keeps watchin.”
Clover shuddered in her seat. She had no idea how long ago her first… meal was. But the idea of it playing out again in front of her again was nauseating.
“Nyu mummah? Peep! Nee miwkies!” The foals cried out in hunger.
Clover had no idea how long it’d been. There was no daylight in the musty basement, just a flickering fluorescent light. “Cwovah nu hab miwkies babbehs… nuh ams mummah…”
The foals look of despondence broke her heart. These poor babies were suffering for no apparent reason and she couldn’t do anything but watch. One of the foals latched onto her in desperation, hitting her with its tiny legs when nothing came out.
“Ams so sowwy babbehs…” Clover cried. She was starving herself. The babies were crying. She was crying. So much suffering, and she had no idea why.
Randal was laughing his ass off at the top of the stairs, “oh poor babies, no milkies huh? Useless sack of shit there can’t do anything for you? Real tragedy.”
“Nee… miwkies… che- e…” were the last words of a foal as it starved to death. How long had clover been here? It felt like multiple forevers. The rest of the foals died shortly after the first. Her heart hurt so much.
Her tummy hurt nearly as bad. She looked over at the bodies of the foals. The munstah that trapped her down here wanted her to eat the babies. She would never. She’d rather die.
“Oh, being stubborn hmm? Well, how about this. If you die, I’ll just replace you and make the next mare eat even more foals. Either you eat up, or starve twice as many!”
“Dat ams meanie choices.” Eclair said with a frown, “Buh Ecwaiwe knu wat yu choosies…”
Clover cried in her seat.
The taste was terrible. It was like eating a physical manifestation of sorrow. The bones crunched in her mouth, breaking easily. The foals must not have had enough nummies in life to grow strong. Clover swallowed and hated herself for how much it made the tummy hurties go away.
She paced herself, trying to make the foals last. She had no idea how long she was at it, but the last remaining corpse had gone bad. She cried as she stuffed it down her maw. Babbehs were not nummies, but here she was, having finished off a whole litter.
Randal checked in on her soon after, “Oh good. Finished? I’ve got more for you, don’t want you going hungry!” Randal skipped down the stairs with a basket full of chirpies. He poured the babbehs out in front of Clover and made a chef’s kiss, “Please, enjoy.”
Clover was bewildered. Even younger babbehs. Even more innocent. Peeping and chirping they wiggled their way towards her, towards the smell of a mare. They all wanted the same thing. Milkies and love. Clover could barely provide the latter, her little heart broken from her torment.
“Peep! Cheep!” said the crowd as they closed in on her.
She cried. “Wai! Wai huwt da chiwpies!? Deh ams onwy widdwe babbehs!?”
“Because I hate you, clover. Because I hate how happy you were.” Randal said with a malicious grin, “But I do love making you cry.”
The chirpies were at her now, crawling up to where her milkie places would have been if she had ever had babies of her own. She brushed them off, trying to keep them away. They kept coming. They were so, so hungry.
She was terrified. So many hungry faces and she could do nothing for them. She kept trying to hobble away but her broken leg kept her trapped in place. She was being swarmed by innocents looking for comfort and nourishment.
The odds played out. She accidentally killed a chirpy trying to keep it away from her. Her heart sunk. She killed a babbeh. She was a monster. A bad fluffy. The babbehs cheeped in terror as they heard the chirpy expire. There was no milkies here, no huggies. Only hurties.
“Oh, killing them early hmm?” Randal asked mockingly, “I suppose that spares them from starving to death, but where’s the fun in that?”
Clover stared off into space, traumatized. The munstah was right, in a sense. It was better to go quick than to slowly waste away. She resigned herself to what she needed to do. It didn’t take long at all.
Eclair got up from her seat and trotted around her desk, sitting down next to Clover. The brown fluffy wrapped Clover in a warm, comforting embrace, “Dat ams howwibwe. Ams su sowwy yu hads tu du dat.”
“Ams munstah. Couwd hab wet chiwpies be buh gabe stompies ans huwties insteads.”
“Eben Ecwaiwe nuh kno wha Ecwaiwe’d du dewe. Dat ams hawd choosies.” Clover could barely make out something about “telling mummah” and “meanest punishes”. She winced. Was Eclair saying one thing and planning another?
The cycle repeated itself. She’d finish off eating the foals and chirpies and Randal would bring her another batch. Another group she killed herself, and devoured. It kept repeating. She wanted to die, but she knew that if she let herself go Randal promised to hurt even more fluffies. She was trapped.
The foals would ask her why, begging for her to stop. She became numb. It was mechanical now. The happy cheerful fluffy who was full of love was gone, the only thing that remained was Clover the killer. Yet it continued.
Randal would drive out to less reputable shelters, distant shelters. It became an obsession for him. At least 100 dead fluffies. Probably more, he honestly lost count. With Clover broken as she was, he considered replacing her with a new fluffy to break. He decided against it. He was a man of his word, it would be wrong to break a promise.
The shelters around town grew suspicious. They talked to each other and found that this man had ‘adopted’ 124 fluffies in the past 3 months. Alarms were raised across town, a net was cast. Randal’s next run wouldn’t turn out as he expected.
Driving out to further and further shelters to feed his pet, Randal did not expect to be spotted upon entering the Huggy Wub Shelter. The staff turned and pointed at him in unison, “That’s the guy! Get him!” Volunteers and workers began to circle him. The man had managed to piss off everyone who even vaguely cared about fluffies for at least 100 miles. Randal bolted back out the door and drove off in a hurry.
He wouldn’t be coming back home. Too risky, the fluffy loving freaks were baying for his blood. He might have flown too close to the sun on this one, but it sure was fun. All good things must come to an end, however. Randall called up his boss and took a week off of work. Time to lay low and let this mess fizzle out.
Eclair glared at the vision in front of her. She wasn’t a particularly angry or vengeful fluffy, far from it, but she wanted this man to suffer. Still, she had a job to do and punishing the wicked was mummah’s department. “Ams otay. Wiww teww mummah 'bout munstah man. Mummah stwongest dewe ams. Nu sad wawas, Cwovaw.”
Clover wiped her face with her hoof. She’d been crying. She didn’t think she could anymore. So many feelings that she never thought she’d feel again. Warmth from a hug. Comfort, compassion. Sadness, regret. Even despair had become unfamiliar to her.
Clover had finished the last of the foals a few days prior. There was nothing left to eat. Randal hadn’t been around in days, was the nightmare finally over? She didn’t allow herself to hope.
A crash from upstairs. Someone was breaking in. Footsteps, many many footsteps. Light poured into the basement as the door opened. A woman Clover had never seen before looked down at her in horror and anger.
Rachel looked down into the basement of one of the worst dregs of humanity she’d had the misfortune of knowing. They’d already found adoption papers for over 60 fluffies scattered around the house and she was now certain she knew where they all went. Down the stairs staring up at her with dead sullen eyes was mare dyed red with gore and viscera.
“What. Did. You. Do.” Rachel stormed down the staircase and glared at the fluffy. Her vision was turning red. She was so, so angry. One of the foals adopted was her little buddy. A happy spud named Goober, he was the sweetest and kindest fluffy she’d had the pleasure to meet. She was looking at his murderer.
“Stompies. Nummies. Aww da babbehs. Aww da chiwpies.” Clover replied without emotion. She couldn’t bring herself to care. She’d certainly die from the heartache.
“Jesus.” was all Rachel could say. This fluffy was fluffed up. “Did Randal put you up to this?”
“Nuh. nee nommies ow babbehs get huwties. Su huwt babbehs su moh babbehs dun get huwties. Stompies. Nommies. Stompies. Nommies.” Saying it aloud was starting to break her. She twitched and convulsed. She threw up, spewing out most of a foal and a bit of chirpy. She looked down in horror. Her walls were breaking down. She was a monster. She was the worst fluffy.
“Oh my god.” Rachel said as she saw the vomit, nearly throwing up herself. She really did eat them. Fucking hell, over a hundred babies. Her vision was going red again. “Ok asshole, you’re coming with me. You’re going to explain to the cops why and how you ate over a hundred fucking babies.”
Clover started to panic. If she left Randal would hurt twice as many fluffies. All of this would have been for nothing! She charged at Rachel, kicking and biting. “Nuh! Nee babbehs! Nee nummies!”
Rachel had had enough. So many dead. And this thing was still screaming for more! A fucking monster. She kicked the thing off of her as hard as she could, slamming it into a cooler.
Already weakened from a leg that needed treatment months ago, Clover’s body gave out from the impact. Her vision faded and all she could think was that she failed. All of it for nothing. She was a monster.
“And then you were here.”
“Mummah!” Eclair hopped up and pounced onto a tired woman with dull gray hair. The two embraced in a loving hug.
“I’ve seen all I need to. Clover, you did some messed up stuff but… you’re not a bad fluffy. You did it out of kindness in an impossible situation with no way of knowing if Randal was lying or not.”
Clover was shocked. Where did this woman come from? And she was saying that Clover wasn’t a bad fluffy? What?
“Now that isn’t to say you’re a good fluffy either. Just a fluffy who was put in circumstances beyond her control. I’m not going to have you punished for that. Buuuuut…”
Clover sighed. She knew it was too good to be true.
“I want you to visit the fluffies you killed. Apologize and ask for their forgiveness. They probably won’t, dying kind of sucks, but it’s still worth the effort. You’ll feel better, promise. You don’t have to do it, this isn’t a punishment. Just something to consider.”
Clover nodded slowly as Eclair pretended to shuffle papers, marking them with a novelty stamp. “That is to say, welcome to Skettiland girl. I’m glad to have you.”