As the sun sets feral fluffies gather together in fluffpiles, either together with their herd or with their families. Those alone or who have been kicked out of the pile will find a place a fluffy would consider “safe” and try to collect themselves, although it was hard with all the tears. Eventually, under the pale light of the moon, sleep would overtake them all. Lost in simple dreams of playing and spaghetti, it was like there was nothing to worry about, like they were safe out in the open as long as they were together, or hidden well enough. Naive, like all fluffies were programmed to be. There were many good reasons for them to fear the dark, and the flapping of hundreds of bat wings heralded one of the worst.
The moon was covered by the swarm as they began their descent. The first scream would stir the others, opening their eyes to a colony of Remilia Yukkuris tearing into their families and friends. A Remilia will prefer to pin a fluffy to the ground and bite into the neck with her fangs, completely draining the body of blood in a matter of seconds and leaving it a withered husk, only able to roll its eyes into the back of its head as it dies. This happening dozens of times all around them will cause the fluffies to either shit themselves in fear, leaving them open for attack, or to run. The runners rarely make it far; the density of the colony and the Remilias finishing off the lone rejects on the outskirts means they tend to run right into another one and are quickly killed. Once there is nothing but a field of corpses the Remilias move on, hunting for another herd to feast on. Only the very, very lucky will escape notice and survive. This story is about them.
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Tuffet ran as fast as her weggies would carry her, gasping and wheezing as her fat rolls jiggled. She scrambled under the rock opening, ignoring parts of her blue and white fur scraping off against the narrow walls. “Babbehs! Huwwy!” Her four foals quickly followed, nudged along by their daddeh, an orange and green colt with the shockingly creative name of Carrot. He struggled to fit himself in the hole, screaming as the rocks tore into his flesh, but panic was enough to push him through. The foals quickly ran to give him huggies as he collapsed, but Tuffet was too distracted watching the carnage outside to join. It was a slaughter: the center of the herd wasn’t even visible under all the wingie munstahs, while the dummehs on the outside were being mauled by five at the same time. One desperately tried to give sowwy hoofies only to be rewarded by having its weggie torn off and fangs sunk directly into its eyes, while another mummah tried to run for the opening Tuffet had escaped through only for one to land on top of her babbehs, with a quick “uuu” biting through her neck, giving Tuffet a close-up of her body shrivling like a rotten apple as she screamed one last time. Tuffet quickly covered her eyes, scawedy poopies splattering against the rock as she sobbed, ignoring her foals pleading for their daddeh to get up.
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Was it over? Tuffet didn’t know. It had been many fowebas, but she sure wasn’t going to put her hooves down to check. Who did that leave?
“Speciaw fwend! Am dewe munstahs? Tuffet hab boo-boos an’ scawdies.” she whined. Carrot, flesh still torn from the rocks, weakly crawled over to check. The corpse of the other mummah was still there, starting to rot under the sun. This gave him quite a fright, so much that he involuntarily let out scawedy poopies all over Tuffet’s face.
“DUMMEH CAWWOT! GIB WOWSTES HUWTIES!” she screeched, biting Carrot right on the raw flesh of one of his torn spots, drawing even more blood. He howled in agony, so loud that the foals woke up and ran in the direction they were facing as fast as they could, running into walls or into mummeh and daddeh as they tussled. One, a blue boy named Sky, happened to be sleeping towards the entrance, and ran as fast as he could out of it. Carrot was busy giving Tuffet sowwy hoofies as she bit into his weggie, and they only noticed where he was going until he was already gone.
“BABBEH COM’ BACK!” they both yelped, but it was too late. They could only watch as he ran out into the field. After a few feet, he stopped and looked around. There weren’t any munstahs, and there weren’t even other corpses anymore. He cheeped in joy, turning around to tell his siwwy mummah and daddeh to come out and pway, completely oblivious to what sounded like a cart being pushed towards him.
His parents watched as another munstah, one with cat ears poking out of red hair with several black bows, crushed Sky, his guts spewing out of his mouth and his eyes bursting out of his caved in skull. The Orin quickly picked up his corpse and tossed it into her wheelbarrow, right alongside the corpses of last night’s massacre. They both squealed, alerting her to them and the fresh corpse out front. Quickly hauling her wheelbarrow towards them, the fluffies had no choice but to gather their remaining foals by the skin of their necks and flee deeper into the cave.
The walls did open up the further they went, although still not enough to be comfortable. Tuffet and Carrot rubbing against each other’s open wounds did nothing to alleviate their anger, which after several minutes of awkward crawl-walking boiled over when Carrot tripped over Tuffet’s weggie one too many times.
“Dummeh mummah.” he growled. He let his children drop without a second thought before bringing his hoof down onto Tuffet’s head. The rest of the foals dropped like rocks, only the grace of whatever luck had let them live this long preventing them from breaking anything when they hit the ground.
“MUMMAH HUWT CAWWOT! MUMMAH WET BABBEH HAB FOWEBA SWEEPIES! AM WOWSTES MUMMAH EBA!” he incoherently screeched as he rearranged his speciaw fwend’s face. The foals didn’t understand why their parents had become munstahs, only that they’d be crushed like their bruddah if they didn’t get out of the way. The three darted away, able to move much quicker than their cumbersome parents, not caring about how scawey the dawkies were. As they went further, the sounds of fighting fading away, they noticed a dim light. After a few more steps they could see it was a beam of sunlight, and a lot of it. They all cheered; sunlight meant an exit, an escape from the munstahs! They happily trotted towards it, unable to see the thin webs lining the walls until it was too late.
“MUMMAH! DADDEH! SABE BABBEHS!” cried Strawberry, the red coated youngest, loud enough that it echoed over the “SCREEE” of Carrot as Tuffet bit into his no-noes. They both scrambled towards him, trying to push each other out of the way so they could get there first. A nasty shove to the ground would see Tuffet as the winner.
“Nu cwy babbehs, bestest mummah hewe!” she announced as she ran in, the passage finally opening enough where she could move without rubbing against rock. She had dealt with spiders before, and quickly tried to brush aside the webs to free her babbehs. As she tried to move her other front leg, she lost her balance and slammed into the sticky net. This was nothing like the small cobwebs she was used to, this was like she was tied to the ground with steel wire. Carrot quickly followed, charging directly into the trap and falling face first into it, getting hopelessly stuck as well. Everyone helplessly wriggled and screamed, creating a positive feedback loop where the foals would cry louder because their parents were crying, then the parents would cry louder because their foals were in danger. This continued for a few minutes, the ear-splitting chorus mercifully ended by a shadow slowly falling over the family.
Tuffet’s head was stuck to the web, but she could move her eye enough to see it. A munstah: eight jet black spider legs coated with long, thin hairs, protruding from a human-like head, its blonde hair adorned with a brown bow. It hung upside down on the ceiling, surrounded by fluffy-sized lumps of web. The munstah looked them over with brown eyes, each fluffy making its mouth water more and more. Satisfied with its catch, it crawled down in silence, walking along the webs as easily as a fluffy could run across a flat grassy plain.
“Mummah? Why hab scawdey peepees?” Popcorn, their yellow mare, asked, before it crawled into her view. She froze in terror, Strawberry copying her and Leaf, her green coated younger sister, peeping like she was a chirpeh babbeh again. Finally, it got low enough that Carrot, chin stuck to the web, could see it. He tried to back away, to stand up, to form words, but all he could do was sputter in terror.
“Yamame gonna eat you easy. Now is fine.” she spoke.
The fluffies began screaming.
“SCREEEEE! NO NUM BABBEHS! BABBEHS AM FOW HUGGIES AND WUV!”
"HUUHUUHUU MUMMAH! DADDEH! HEWP STWAWBEWWY!
“PEEP! CHEEP!”
“Pwease no num babbehs! Am gud babbehs! Num dummeh daddeh! Wostest daddeh, bestest nummehs fo’ munstah! Jus’ wet fwuffy an’ babbehs go!” she begged, tears filling her eyes and snot shooting out of her snout.
“Don’t be selfish and understand easy, Yamame needs munch munches to take it easy, lots is enough.” she scolded, laying a few more layers of webs on her and Carrot to make them stop trashing around as much as it was to get them to shut up.
“Dummeh munstah!” Carrot screamed. “Haechu! Gun gib 'ou foweba sweepies!” Was he referring to Carrot or Yamame? The yukkuri seemed to think it was addressing her, because she quickly poked him with one of her legs, drawing a quick yelp and several “huu huus” from the colt before his mouth was permanently shut.
“Drop dead easy, okay? Poo poo beast’s little ones will be first, so have mister patience for your time.” she declared, striding towards Popcorn. Her parents could only watch as she bent down and bit into her, injecting her with her digestive juices. Popcorn would shriek, crying for her mummah, daddeh, anyone to save her, begging them to suddenly have the strength to break through the web, give the munstah foweba sweepies, and save them all, believing that they could even as her organs melted into goop and were sucked into the yukkuri’s stomach. The others went out the same way: begging for their lives, crying to be saved, but mummah and daddeh could only watch.
Several minutes had passed. Yamame was finishing off Leaf, giving an occasional “Yu!” as she emptied her now soup-like guts. If Tuffet strained her eye, she could see that whatever the munstah had done to Carrot had worked fast, as he was convulsing as much as his bindings would let him. His eyes bulged, and a torrent of putrid black bile spilled out of his ass, splattering against the cave floor like watery poopies. It was obvious he had taken foweba sweepies, and she was glad that it looked like it hurt the entire time. Unfortunately for her it drew the attention of the spider yukkuri, who quickly skittered over, prodding his corpse a few times. She almost seemed disappointed, but went right back to smiling, dashing right over to Tuffet, so fast that she didn’t even have time to scream before Yamame’s fangs pierced through her soft, tubby flesh.
Tuffet felt it all. At first it was just two quick jolts, followed by a dull soreness. That soreness grew, snaking its way into her stomach, heart, lungs, and eventually across her entire body. If she could move she’d be rolling around on the ground in pain, like she was suffering a practically bad cramp and trying anything to make it stop. Then the burning started. It had been happening since the moment she was bit, of course, but there was finally enough juice in her to start melting through her organs a lot quicker. Even under so many layers of webbing it was enough for her to thrash around a little bit, the pain becoming so immense that she vomited, but with her mouth sewn shut only a few chunks blew out of her nose while the rest slid back down her liquefying throat. Every breath was agony now, and her stomach had been weakened enough to burst, the acid quickly diluting against the much worse cinnamon apple-flavored gunk the yukkuri was flooding her with. Her heart, beating so fast it was seconds away from bursting, melted into uselessness. Foweba sweepies would be soon. With collapsing lungs, her last breath would be spent cursing Carrot, for being such a dummeh, and her babbehs; if they hadn’t ran away and gotten stuck like dummehs none of this would have happened.
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Yamame slurped up the last of the juices, shouting “Satisfaction!” over yet another good meal. It was true: bullying really did make them taste better! As she began spinning more web, she wondered if different types of torture would make them taste even better. She’d have to see when the next poo poo beast got stuck, and with her ability to manipulate illness she would have a lot of things to try.
