Author’s Note: Another installment of the ongoing Butcher series, I’m not entirely sure where I’m going to take things after the next chapter. I might continue with Veles, might do a couple stand-alone stories, probably a spin-off or two involving Marzya and her lab. Hope you guys enjoy!
Marzya finally had a day off, though she was sleeping in after a long night at her lab… Research didn’t conduct itself, after all, and science knows no sleep schedule. Fortunately it seemed that her work on the Fluffy Utopia project had earned her more acclaim than she’d previously been led to believe, and she’d excitedly relayed to Veles that she was finally getting her own lab. As Veles wasn’t all that good at the whole ‘expressing emotion’ thing, he opted to do the only thing he could really think of when he wanted to express how happy he was for her. Showing her how much he cared through some physical token of his esteem.
Marzya always said it kinda reminded her of when her cat used to bring her dead birds as a sign of affection, which as it turned out was how she’d first gotten into science, performing ‘autopsies’… Apparently the actual word was a necropsy, but she’d been 12 at the time so proper diction hadn’t been a priority. Either way, Veles was more than happy to take on the role of the cat bearing gifts, in this case that gift would be breakfast in bed. Normally he would’ve stayed in bed with her a little longer, but there were other considerations he had to take into account.
It’d been a month since Izzy gave birth to her litter, they were all talkies now, and the man had been slowly getting rid of the various ‘poopie babbehs’. He’d tried swapping older foals for newer ones, but it hadn’t had the desired effect, so he defaulted to just making the litter smaller and smaller. Each subsequent subtraction resulted in a more definitive response from Izzy, with the first few going entirely unnoticed. Around the 15 day mark was when she truly began to notice, and by the 25th day she would actively look for the missing foal. However, seeing as all the missing foals were her ‘poopie babbehs’, her concern was rather short-lived.
This had all taken place while Rocket had been forced to watch from a distance, with Veles making sure to run footage of each foal’s death over and over again, just to ensure that he remembered them even as Izzy forgot. Their ends were typically quick and painless, sometimes Veles would use them to make a snack, other times he’d serve them to Rocket… There was a time when the mere act of serving fluffy to another fluffy would’ve give him a thrill, but lately he’d come to question why he was doing what he was doing.
It wasn’t remorse, of that much he was certain, perhaps his heart just didn’t seem to be in it anymore with this particular batch of fluffies… The rush he usually felt was diminished, and he was honestly contemplating just slaughtering the lot of them and starting over with a new group. Maybe psychological stimulation just wasn’t his strong suit, he had far better success with physical stimuli, perhaps it was time to get back to what he knew best.
Of course it occurred to Veles that maybe what he was feeling came as the result of his watching Marzya dote on Midnight, the little alicorn Izzy had given birth to. As far as Veles knew the intention was still to sell the black alicorn for a tidy profit, especially considering its mane was a crisp white. Still, Marzya seemed a little hesitant at the idea of parting with it, despite the good financial sense it made. Was she going soft? Was Veles?
Maybe it was something more primal than that, because again and again his mind kept going back to that conversation he’d had with Rocket regarding ‘Special Friends’. Even thinking of Marzya in such infantile terms enraged him greatly, she was so much more than that. She was the yin to his yang, the moon to his earth… The term Special Friend might’ve been infantile, but as Veles thought about it more and more, the concept itself didn’t seem quite so far fetched… Perhaps what he wanted was a family of his own… After all, why else was he going to such ends to ensure his fortune remained as intact as possible if not for some future progeny?
Tucking that thought away in the back of his mind, Veles descended the steps to the first floor of his family’s estate, then made his way on over to the kitchen. Izzy and her foals were all slumbering soundly in a fluff-pile, with her four ‘pwetty babbehs’ situated in the most comfortable position while her last ‘poopie babbeh’ had been forced to sleep further away. Veles intended to make breakfast for himself and Marzya, in the latter’s case an omelet with a number of spices and vegetables, while Veles himself preferred scrambled eggs with hash-browns and a side of fluffy meat.
Walking over to the fluff-pile, it was a simple enough matter of picking up the last ‘poopie babbeh’ by the scruff of his neck. He groggily awoke, though only after Veles had him comfortably held in his arms. The foal cooed softly, nuzzling his head against Veles’ chest as he was carried unknowingly towards the wooden butcher-block counter-top. As gently as possible, the man set the foal on the counter, conspicuously close to the kitchen sink.
“Daddeh…?” The foal asked quietly, blowing some of the dully black mane out of his eyes and looking up at Veles with a glimmer of wonder in his eyes. “Whewe am Chop?”
“Somewhere very special, Chop.” Veles soothed, petting the fluffy along the back of his neck, earning a small purring coo from his unwitting victim. “Did you make good poopies in the litter box yet?” Chop nodded emphatically, smiling widely up at Veles… “Very good, Chop… That means you get to play a special game with daddy. Part of the rules is you have to be as quiet as possible, okay?” The foal nodded dutifully.
“Now, if you have any poopies or peepees you still need to do, go ahead and do them in here.” Veles gestured to the sink, watching as Chop waddled over and made a small poopie and peepee into the basin, nothing a good spritz from the faucet couldn’t clean away. “Okay, now the next thing I need you to do is stand at the edge of the big metal thingy. Be a really brave fluffy and close your eyes, then stretch your neck out as far as possible, okay? But only when I tell you to. Such a good fluffy, daddy loves you very much!”
“Dis am siwwy game, Daddeh.” Commented Chop, but Veles merely smiled at him and made a shushing motion. “Oh, sowwy daddeh.” With that the foal quieted down, scooting as close as he dared to the edge. “Daddeh?” Veles nodded, appraising his knives, though he already knew which one he was going to use. “Ou weawy wuv Chop, eben doh am a poopie babbeh?”
“Of course, I love all fluffies equally. It doesn’t matter what color your fluff is, you’re all the same on the inside.” Veles assured him, stroking Chop’s head again. He cast a brief glance to the camera situated in the kitchen, knowing full well that Rocket was watching him. “Believe me, I would know.” Chop smiled faintly at that, just as the butcher made his final selection.
The blade in question was an old Japanese cleaver. He’d had the blade since he was 12, when he purchased it on a school trip to ‘Little Tokyo’ in the nearby city. It’d been an impulse purchase that Mother frowned upon, honestly Veles was just surprised the school allowed him to even bring it home. Rather than force him to return it --likely because he’d made the tactical decision to ‘lose’ the receipt-- Mother had instead taught him how to use the cleaver properly…
Sometimes Veles wondered if maybe he’d purchased the item because, on some deeper level, he knew the kind of work he’d gravitate towards. Knives always made sense. They were cold, methodical, precise… As he was a professional who always ensured his blades were sharp, he was quite certain that so long as he hit his mark, his cleaver would be as swift and precise as ever.
“Okay, ready to play the special game?” Veles asked, quietly licking his lips as he imagined the tasty tasty foal meat just waiting to be stripped from the bones. Chop nodded excitedly. “Okay, stretch your neck out as far as you can, Chop! Hold it as still as possible!” Chop smiled widely, closing his eyes and outstretching his neck as far as he could. Veles wasted little time, deftly snagging the cleaver from the assortment of knives on the counter. In one fluid motion he raised the blade, calculated where he’d need to hit to cut between the vertebrae, and proceeded with the downward swing.
The cleaver met virtually no resistance on its journey from on high to the board, just as Veles had planned. There were no scaredie peepees or poopies, the foal having already purged itself, just dull Thock! of the cleaver impacting the wood. The foal’s head flopped unceremoniously to the board whilst its tiny heart continued pumping little gushes of blood into the sink. There was a little spatter, but nothing a paper towel couldn’t take care of.
Chop’s face remained happy for a few moments, though after a few moments his eyes flickered open and his features contorted in a look of abject horror and excruciating agony. Veles had decapitated enough fluffies to know that the head did indeed remain alive for a time, longer than one might expect. He gently turned the severed head so that Chop would have a better view as he used a much nimbler narrower blade to bleed, skin and de-flesh the foal’s own corpse.
The tiny mouth moved throughout, little tears streamed down his oh so fuzzy-wuzzy cheeks, but no sobs could be heard for there were no lungs to supply them. The light left its tiny soulless eyes just as Veles tossed the meat rendered from its body into a heated cast iron skillet, the last sound it ever heard was the sizzle of its own flesh, the last scent it smelled was similarly macabre. Veles wasted little time in continuing with breakfast, and eventually the smell of cooking fluffy flesh, eggs, hash-browns, and other assorted ingredients were enough to rouse and her remaining foals from their slumber.
“Mownin’ daddeh!” Izzy cheered joyfully. “Dem nummies show smeww pwetty, can Izzy haf some? Can babbehs? Dey big 'nuff fo fwuffy nummies, wight!? Wight?! Wight!?” She waddled right up to him, her foals not far behind her, their incessant chatter rapidly worming its way into Veles’ ears.
“Hold on, Izzy. You’ll get your kibble in a minute, these nummies are for Mommy and Daddy.” The man said simply, resulting in a look of annoyance from Izzy… That annoyance quickly faded to concern as she turned her attention to her foals.
“Daddeh… Whewe am poopie babbeh?” Izzy asked nervously, turning around several times. “Babbeh? Babbeh! Huuu… Daddeh, Babbeh am missin’!”
“No they aren’t, look. All four of your babies are right here.” Veles casually stated, gesturing at the four talky foals.
“Nuuu! Daddeh, dewe fiwe babbehs, member?! One am Missin’!” Insisted Izzy, nervously biting her lower lip. “Poopie babbeh!? Com tu mummah! Nu in twouble, pwomise!” Veles continued to feign ignorance, though he did make sure to knock Chop’s expertly severed head into the sink, just to be double sure no unfortunate discoveries were made accidentally. “Daddeh, yu gotta hewp Izzy fine babbeh! Is poopie babbeh, buh babbeh…”
“Whewe bwudda?” Asked ‘Grape’, the magenta unicorn who happened to be Izzy’s Bestest Babbeh. “Huuu, daddeh hewp mummah wook fo bwudda! Pwease!” A chorus of ‘Huuus’ and whines arose in response, each incessantly imploring Veles that there was indeed one member of their group missing, and that he really did need to help find Chop.
“It’s not funny, fluffies. I don’t know what you’re talking about, there’s no missing poopie babies. There’s only ever been four of you, now stop whining about it or I’ll have to put you in the sorry box.” That quieted them down for a time, as none wanted to spend time in the pet carrier/sorry box. He could see it in their eyes, their tiny little brains struggling to make sense of everything. They all definitely remembered Chop, but Veles insisted he didn’t exist, which meant either they’d all imagined him or Daddeh was… Lying? That just didn’t compute, and so they chatted amongst themselves, trying to convince one another that the truth wasn’t actually true.
Sighing faintly to himself, Veles turned on a small blue-tooth speaker he kept in the kitchen, pausing to select something on his phone to play and hopefully drown out the little bastards. As Veles no longer owned a television, he opted to select something relating to that day’s news… As usual, it didn’t fill him with confidence, but he supposed that was just his inner pessimist once again at work. Given how chaotic his thoughts were of late, even the grim news of world events was a welcome distraction, especially if he was to keep himself from straight up killing Izzy and her foals for their continued yammering.
“…in other news, the Air Force reported the successful launch of its first ‘Bio-Toy Capsule’. The Pentagon refused to comment as to just how launching fluffies into space would benefit the military, or exactly how many Taxpayer Dollars were spent on the program, citing both as matters of ‘National Security’…”
Unfortunately, almost predictably even, the voice of the announcer didn’t go unnoticed for long by the fluffies scampering about. They’d since moved on from the notion of their missing ‘poopie bwudda’, and soon were running and playing with one another as if he’d never so much as existed. One of the remaining foals --the pastel blue pegasus colt with the unoriginal name ‘Blue’-- waddled on up to Veles, just as the man commenced to chopping up some ingredients for what he intended to be Marzya’s breakfast, the mother of all omelets… Only the best eggs for his beautiful egghead.
“Daddeh, wat am noisie?” Blue asked curiously, cocking his head to the side. “Whewe am talky fwend?”
“That’s just the speaker, Blue…” Veles stated simply, his blade deftly mincing the spinach with a speed that most amateur chef’s might bawk at. “You know how your mummah talks to you? Well, the speaker is kind of like that, except it only says what I want it to say.”
“Otay… Can speakew make songies?” Blue asked, Veles couldn’t keep his eye from twitching but simply nodded at the question. “Bwu nu wike jus tawky wowds, daddeh! I knu, Bwu be nyu speakew, sing happies song wiff wots of pwetty wowds! Mummah sing it wots an wots an wots of times!” From there, the foal broke into a shrill song whose lyrics were too nonsensical for Veles to really follow, though that didn’t stop the other remaining foals and even Izzy from taking it up cheerfully, and just as poorly. Again, the breadth of their concern for their missing comrade was truly heartwarming…
Together there voices were actually loud enough to overpower the speaker, and it took an ever increasing amount of willpower not to ring their scrawny little necks. Honestly Veles was starting to see little purpose in keeping them alive, as he hadn’t quite gotten as much of a thrill out of their confusion as he’d expected. Still, he was trying to take a day off, and killing them would mean a lot of gutting and cleaning. As it turned out, the demise of Izzy and her remaining ‘Gud Babbehs’ was something Marzya had expressed a desire to witness for herself… The frown that took root on the man’s face as he pondered that fact only inspired the fluffies to sing louder, no doubt in an effort to raise his spirits… So it seemed the shrieking would continue until morale improved.
“Thanks, guys!” Veles said loudly, forcing himself to smile. “You guys sing really well, you should save your voices so you can sing for Mommy when she wakes up.”
“Siwwy Daddeh, we sing fo Daddeh an stiww haf voicies fo Mummah!” Izzy responded, looking at her foals. “Babbehs gotta pwactice, maek bestest songie for Mummah an Daddeh! Sing wowder! Wowder is bettah!” And so the foals sang louder and louder, evidently the man’s bid to get them to shut up had backfired. Veles’ eye resumed its twitching with a renewed rapidity, at least until he took a slow deep breath to calm himself. They were just fluffies, no need to lose his temper, just keep on cooking. “Dem nummies smeww suuuuu pwetty, Daddeh! Ou sho Izzy nu haf some?”
“No, Izzy. This is for Mommy and Daddy.” Veles said through gritted teeth as he continued working on the omelet, one of his better creations if he did say so himself. Expertly seasoned, filled with all sorts of veggies and other goodness, though no fluffy meat… As versatile an ingredient as it was, it didn’t go with everything. Soon the meal was done, and so the man set it on a plate, which in turn was set on a tray beside a couple pieces of toast, an apple, and a cup of steaming hot coffee. Light cream, just a little honey, just as Marzya liked it.
Veles added his own plate to the tray, and with that he was ready to set off upstairs, his thoughts returning to the matter of his relationship with Marzya as he did so.
“Mummah! Mummah! Wook! Bestest babbeh am dancie babbeh!” Shouted Grape, hopping up on her hind legs and wobbling about… This occurred just as Veles was stepping away from the counter with the tray he’d intended to deliver to Marzya in bed, and for a few moments the man almost feared he’d trip over the little vermin. Fortunately he didn’t, otherwise the Grape’s life wouldn’t have been worth a plug-nickle. “Sowwy daddeh… Nu see ou.”
Veles didn’t respond, his expression falling into a stoic mask as he left the cacophony that was his kitchen behind. The journey up to the second-floor master bedroom took only a few minutes, taking him past the broom closet in which Rocket’s pitiful ‘huuu huuu huuus’ could be heard through the door.
Entering into the classically decorated room, Veles was unsurprised to see that Marzya had sprawled out to claim the entire bed in his absence. The woman must’ve heard him come in, because she perked her head up and smiled.
“Hey…” She greeted groggily, slowly sitting up at the sight and smell of his morning offering. “Hmm… Y’know, you don’t have to make me breakfast in bed every time I decide to sleep in. I’d much rather you just stay in bed with me.”
“We both know that’s not true, you love having the bed to yourself.” Veles smiled faintly, approaching Marzya’s side of the bed as she finished orientating herself. He set the tray down on her lap, just as he’d done dozens of times before. “Besides, I wanted to make something to celebrate your big promotion. Had some stuff that needed tending to as well.” Marzya raised an eyebrow at that, looking between the tray and Veles’ placid expression. “On a slightly related note, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking today. Haven’t really been feeling myself lately, I think I’m working through some stuff.”
“Such as?” Marzya inquired studiously, picking up the fork and knife she’d been provided and cutting into her omelet. Veles hesitated to answer, as he was unsure of what precisely he’d say… Marzya, being the wonderful woman that she was, was quick to pick up on that. Sometimes it was like she could read his mind, though she explained that --unlike him-- she was far more adept at reading people’s faces. “I have three doctorates, dear… There’s not much you can say that’d stump me.”
“I dunno, Marzya…” Veles trailed off again. “I guess I’m just feeling… Unregulated. That’s the word, right? It’s like… There’s a painting that’s crooked in my brain, and I just can’t seem to get it level. Does that make sense?”
“Of course, it makes perfect sense. People like you and I are… Different.” Explained Marzya tenderly. “Normal people just don’t get us, and we just don’t get normal people, but we do get each other… Really, that’s all that matters. Actually, I think it’s pretty romantic.” She paused to take the first bite of her meal, chewing thoroughly and swallowing before continuing. “It sounds to me you’re dealing with some powerful emotions, emotions you’ve got no idea how to handle because you’ve never had to deal with them before, which begs the question… What’s going on inside that twisted little head of yours?” She picked up another fork-full. “This is incredible as always, by the way.”
“Thanks… As usual, I think you’re right. I have been giving a lot of thought to certain things of late.” Veles agreed with a sigh, putting his hands on his hips and looking briefly out a nearby window at the world outside.
By now it was winter, the first snow had fallen, and a small group of fluffies had ventured out into the field in what was likely a last-ditch effort to find food for winter… Fluffies… Oddly enough, Veles got the feeling that was where many of his latest problems had originated. Speaking of which, it was around this time that he too began to eat his breakfast. Chop was, as Veles suspected, remarkably tasty. Not too fatty, mostly because he was a poopie babbeh. Sweet, savory, the perfect breakfast food.
“As for what’s going on in my head? Well… We’ve been living together for a long time, I guess talking to Rocket about his search for a ‘Special Friend’, it kinda put an idea in my head that, up until now, I just didn’t get.” Veles continued, returning his attention fully to the woman he loved. She raised an eyebrow at him, but seemed more than inclined to let him speak his piece. The words that came forth next were just as surprising to Veles as they were to Marzya.
“I think we should get married.” Veles continued bluntly. The woman just stared at him, jaw slightly slackened, totally stunned… He’d never seen her stunned before, so perhaps he’d found something that could stump her after all. “I’m serious! Marzya, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You make me feel… You make me want to feel! I know I don’t have a ring, because honestly this is kind of a spur of the moment thing, since I figure it’s better if we go out and get a ring that you want anyway, but I’m getting off track here. If I did have a ring, what would you say?”
“The answer would be the same either way…” Marzya responded with the faintest smile, beckoning him to lean closer so she could kiss his cheek. “Nothing would make me happier.” Veles actually found himself feeling better just hearing that, and suddenly the tumultuous fury that’d raged deep within him found itself pacified. The metaphorical painting that’d been so off-kilter now rested perfectly level, all was as it should be… Further evidenced by that marvelously devilish twinkle that flickered in Marzya’s eyes. “You should save Rocket’s head when all this is done… Have it stuffed and hang it riiiight… There.” The woman grinned, pointing to the wall directly over the bed. “That way we’ll always remember the fluffy that brought us closer to one another.”
“How delightfully macabre…” Veles responded with a genuine smile. “You know I already asked you to marry me, right? You don’t need to entice me further.” He felt… Lighter, warmer, kinda… Fuzzy inside. Was this… Happiness? He’d occasionally flirted with happiness once or twice, but this was almost as intoxicating as the thrill of the kill, possibly even more so.
“Could you be convinced to cook my favorite dish for dinner tonight? In celebration of our future together.” Marzya requested, only prompting Veles’ smile to widen. "I know it would mean putting an end to your fun with Izzy and Rocket early, but…
“For you, anything…” Veles responded dutifully, pausing to kiss the back of her hand. “Besides, Izzy and her foals have outlived their usefulness anyway, subtracting one from their number over time wasn’t nearly as fun as just breaking them all at once… They’re downstairs singing and dancing, it took everything in my power to keep from slaughtering the lot of them…”
“Mmmm, excellent. For fluffies to endure such terror after such joy? Why, Veles, I can practically taste betrayal, even now…” Marzya purred, pushing her thick black-rimmed glasses back on her nose. The two spent the next half hour or so conversing about what next steps should be taken, all while the two continued to enjoy their breakfast with one another.
The details of planning a wedding were admittedly out of Veles’ wheelhouse --or slaughterhouse, as the case may be-- so it was decided Marzya would undertake the planning while Veles supplied the funding. It might not have been the most romantic or thought out proposal, but it didn’t have to be. The two of them were different, as Marzya herself had so eloquently explained, why pretend as though theirs was a relationship as mundane as any other? It worked for them, that’s all that mattered. Veles had found someone that accepted him for who he was… What he was…
Marzya, likewise, had found someone who didn’t squirm when she mentioned the more intimate details of her research career. While by now means an intellectual peer, Veles was sharp enough to understand most of her work, even if he didn’t recognize its significance. Eventually their conversation came to an end, with Marzya finishing her breakfast and getting ready for her day, all while Veles excused himself to return downstairs. He had a great deal of prep work to do beforehand, Marzya’s favorite dish was one of the more complicated fluffy recipes after all. By her own admission, that that was part of the reason she enjoyed it so greatly. Half the fun was in watching Veles at work.
He didn’t intend to disappoint her.
