Previous adventure can be found here.
Story and thumbnail by myself.
Art by the incredible @Hamsalot!
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Your name is Pete Mason and you’re a detective. You’re the best in your field and you take pride in your work, even more so in your methods. Most detectives end up with a knife in their back or a belly full of lead only three weeks before retirement, not you though, you’re no clown, you’ve got methods.
You parked your old rust bucket surveillance van outside the gates of Chesterfield manor, it was old, dilapidated and worn to shit. A three-storey mansion, derelict and untouched since the fire of 93.
You were hunting a serial killer known as The Greenwick Ripper and every lead had brought you here. But you’re no idiot, you aren’t going in there alone, hell, you ain’t going in there at all.
You opened up the back of your van and prepared your little helpers. Sat in the cage were three fluffies that you had snatched off the streets with the promise of sketties. You normally bought a few from fluffmart and trained them up a tad before sending them in but you were short on time and beggars couldn’t be choosers when you were so close to catching the Ripper.
You opened the crate and the loudest and clearly self appointed leader rushed his way out and plopped himself down on the ground. He was a blue fluffy with a cream mane that almost came to a spike at the top of his head. He huffed in annoyance at you, clearly not a fan of long road trips.
The second fluffy carefully and methodically lowered himself out of the crate until he landed on the ground softly before brushing himself down with one of his hooves. This little guy had a rather messy head of orange hair that partnered quite sensibly with his yellow coat, out of all of them he seemed the most nervous to be there.
Then finally the third one fell out without warning, landing face first into the dirt before scrambling to his feat. This green fellow with a short turquoise mane seemed a little bit…off, his eyes seemed to look in two opposite directions and both of them gave the image that the lights were on upstairs but no one was home. He just sort of pointed his face in your general direction, although you weren’t particularly sure as to how he was looking at you.
You stuck tiny earpieces in, plus some near invisible micro cameras and microphones under their fluff, on the sides, the chest, the flank and one on top of the forehead. If the Ripper was in there then he’d just assume that they were ferals looking for a nest.
The genius of using fluffies to do recon was that unlike traditional drones they were dirt cheap and you didn’t feel upset if you lost one.
“alright, boys, here’s the skinny… I’m gonna pop you three sods in that house and I want you to look for a man, if you find him then you get a big heaping bowl of spaghetti” you said. You knew how to bribe these little shits and luckily they only ever think with their stomach or their gross little tallywackers.
“nu uh!” the blue one refused as he narrowed his gaze at you, “thwee bows fow each ob fwuffy, ow nu deaw!” he added.
“yeah, yeah, fine, whatever…” you said as you prepared them to pass through the gate.
“otay bwuvahs! We gun catchies an munstah! SKETTIES HEWE FWUFFY COM!” the blue smarty squaked out triumphantly as the three of them charged towards the front door.
In truth, you weren’t going to give them any spaghetti, you didn’t even bring a can of it, you were more than certain that they were going to die in there.
Your name is Bumble and you are shaking in your boots… if you wore boots. You tapped your hoof against the big wooden door just as mister Mason had ordered and to your surprise it moved with a loud creak before you backed away with a tiny “huuhuu” at the sound.
“gu on, nu be an big scawdie bebbeh!” Dingus said while standing over a puddle of fresh peepees. You looked up at him from seeing the puddle and raised an eyebrow.
“wat!? wen fwuffy nee gu den fwuffy gotta gu!” he protested with puffed out cheeks, “n-noaw obin da doow!” he huffed.
Suddenly Sniff threw himself into the door, pushing it wide open.
“gud wowk Sniff!” you praised him for being so brave.
He turned to you as he continued to run, stopping only when he collided with the staircase bannister.
Dingus simply rolled his eyes and stomped in and you slowly followed suit.
“Ok now boys-” a voice suddenly said inside of your ear.
“EEEK! whu am dewe!?” Dingus screamed in panic as you all looked around for the invisible human.
“no boys, it’s me, detective Mason, remember?..” the voice claimed.
“hoew am mistah May-sun in Bumbwe heawin-pwace?” you inquired like the clever little fluffy you were.
“no I’m talking thro-… SIGH… fucking hell… yeah, ok, I’m in your ear, I shrunk myself with human magic and I’m in your goddamn ear, alright?” Mister Mason explained in a tone of voice that you couldn’t quite put your hoof on.
“ooooohhh… Yeh, dat mayk sensie!” you concluded.
“yeah… well, anyway, I want you to explore the house and tell me if anything looks fishy” he explained.
“dummeh hoomin, wy am wookin fow fishies? dis nu am big wawa pwace!” Dingus asked with a huff.
“no, I mean look for anything weird… fuckin’ retards…” the detective clarified.
“wayt, am naow confoos-ed… am bwuvahs wookin fow fishies, weiwd tingies ow we-wet-weta… da obew ting…?” you asked, “Fwuffy nu can saysie dat wastest wun, am bad wowdsie” you added.
Suddenly your ear rang with a faint muffled screaming, along with the sound of things being thrown around in frustration.
“am dummeh hoomin otay?” your big brother asked.
“…yes, boys… I’m fine… just fucking peachy” mister Mason grumbled at you, “just please, for the love of god, keep your eyes on the prize” he groaned.
“GASP! bwuvahs git pwize?” Dingus asked excitedly while rubbing his hooves together greedily.
“GET MOVING OR I’LL FUCKING SKIN YOU!” the grumpy human shouted in response.
“huuhuu, tuu mush noisie…” you whimpered.
Your name is Dingus and you’re not scared of anything, no matter how many peepees you may have made since you entered this big and dark house… you just have to pee a lot, that’s all!
You bravely led your two goons (who just so happened to be your brothers) to the dining hall and sniffed around for anything weird, but apart from lots of webbie buggy monsters, you found very little that took your attention.
“Sniff see sumtin?” You asked us you turned to your brother, who was simply staring at the old grandfather clock as its brass pendulum swung left and right, his face following it in kind.
“hmmm someone must have rewound this recently, good work Sniff!” mister Mason congratulated.
Sniff simply continue to watch the pendulum swing, completely transfixed in the activity.
“ok, Sniff… time to move on…” mister Mason grumbled.
Sniff just kept turning his head left and right, left and right, left and right, as if that big shiny disc on a stick was the only thing in the world that mattered.
“MOVE!” the mean human ordered.
Suddenly Sniff got up and opened the glass door, stepped inside and closed it behind him before continuing to watch the pendulum swing above him.
“NO, YOU FUCKI-… whatever… I’ve got two more…” the detective seethed at your youngest brother, “ok you too, I want you to go to the kitchen” he added after some deep breaths.
“pssst, hey Bumbwe” you whispered to your middle brother, “tink dat kimchin hab sketties?” you asked.
Bumble didn’t say anything, he just winked at you knowingly as you both made your way to the only room you were excited to explore.
You sniffed around and found it, your heart’s one desire, a recently opened can of cheap spaghetti, spilled across the floor, granted, it was mostly just the sauce.
“someone has definitely been here! Good work, lads” the detective congratulated before clearing his throat. “now i want you boys to head upstairs” he tried to persuade you both, but you weren’t interested as you now were feasting upon a delicious can of sketties.
“uhhh, boys” he tried to repeat.
“shuddup dummeh, bwuvahs git sketties!”, you said triumphantly, “nu cawe bout wookin fow munstah nu mowe!” you added with a poopy eating grin.
“YOU LITTLE FUCKS” the detective roared, “GET UPSTAIRS RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR TO G- ack…hooh…ack…my…heart!” the detective huffed and wheezed mid sentence.
“am mistah May-sun otay?” your brother asked, genuinely concerned about the tiny human in your ears.
“I’m… Alright…” he huffed, “just forget my pills… Please just go upstairs” he asked.
You felt a little bad about him having heart hurties and you had already finished your snack, so you decided to keep looking for the weird things… besides, you’d all get a bowl each when this was over.
You and Bumble passed by Sniff, still in the the grandfather clock as you made your way to the hallway and up the stairs. You came to a big bedroom that had a very pretty bed in it with messy covers on.
“hmmm, those sheets are new, somebody has been sleeping here… ok, boys, I’ve got enough info, I’ll call for a real sweep crew” the detective said confidently.
“suuuuuuuu… bwuvahs git mowe sketties noaw?” you asked.
“heh, no!” the meanie mister said.
“nu faiw, bwuvahs an May-sun hab deaw! Wy bweak?” you stomped.
“because, FUCK YOU… that’s why” mister Mason chuckled before the buzzing in your ear went dead.
You felt a hoof touch your back and to your relief it was only sniff, who seemed to have gotten bored of the clock downstairs.
Suddenly the sound of mumbling and footsteps came from the staircase and the three of you exploded into a panic.
“ebewyfwuffy hidies!” you cried out as you and then Bumble crawled under the bed. Sniff on the other hand simply sat there with his head turned towards the door.
“NU DUMMEH! HIDIES NOAW!” you commanded. Then suddenly Sniff crawled up onto the bed and buried himself in the covers, as if the monster wouldn’t be able to see him breathing.
“enfin’ dummeh…” you sighed.
Your name is the Greenwick Ripper, or at least that’s what the TV calls you. You don’t care much for the name. In truth, the name is unimportant, what truly matters is your art and you have many masterpieces yet to make.
Beside you was your fluffy, whom you had met not long after you had escaped that blasted asylum.
Slash was the only living thing in the universe that really understood you and the art that you were trying to create. Like yourself, she was an outcast from society and although she would never tell you as to why, she was despised by her own kind since childhood. If you could feel sympathy then your heart would bleed for her.
Slash was a dark purple unicorn, almost midnight black, with a blood red mane that was covered in bald patches, her eyes were cold and a stunning violet, yet her most likable feature in your opinion was adorned upon her horn. Her head was fitted with one of your works of art, a weapon far more befitting of your companion. You had taken a saw to that pathetic nub upon her brow, running it down the tip of the horn, all the way to the base, you then wedged and glued into place the snapped off blade from a long and glimmering butcher’s knife, to match your own tool that always stayed close at hand.
You made your way up from the basement, you swore that you had heard rustling and the shuffling of feet. You would have been ever so happy if new canvases for your works of art were delivering themselves now directly to your door and if it were simply just some more lost ferals then you could at least enjoy watching your companion eviscerate them with her weapon of choice.
When you made your way upstairs into the bedroom that you had been bunking down in for the past three weeks, everything looked in order, but then spotted it. A lump under your sheets. You’re readied your blade, leaned in and in one fast movement yanked the soiled sheets back and found what was clearly the most hideous fluffy doll you had ever seen. It must have clearly been made in one of those cheap Chinese factories, the ugly little plushie didn’t even have its eyes on right.
“eww…” you scoffed, “what an ugly plushie, no wonder it was left forgotten here…”.
You could have sworn it wasn’t here last night, but then again you’re clinically insane so maybe it just slipped your memory… that happened a lot.
“Swash wan tayk wooksie!” your little friend squeaked aggressively as she climbed up onto the bed to examine it.
“ewwies! dat am ugwy stuffie fwend! nu fwuffy ebah wan dat!” she giggled as she poked its glassy looking eye.
“well, have fun, Slash, it’s yours if you want 'em…” you sighed loudly as you tucked Mr Stabby back into your jacket. You were clearly too high strung tonight, jumping at creaking floorboards and plush toys, the lads back in the asylum would be laughing at you right now.
Your name is Slash and you’re a killer, just like your daddeh. You’re currently poking at what appears to be a very stiff plush toy, some sad excuse for a fluffy mimic, yet for some reason this facsimile brings you sadness when you touch it.
This is the closest you’ve ever been to something fluffy shaped that hasn’t immediately hated and feared you. You’ve never been loved, you’re pretty sure that even your daddeh doesn’t love you, just like your real parents didn’t.
A consequence of you never being accepted by fluffy kind is that you have also never experienced the touch of a stallion, well, at least consensually on your part… and by sky-daddeh, you needed some good enfies.
You looked at the dopey looking fake fluffy and bit your lip, you pushed it over and to your amazement the thing even had a nu-nu stickie.
“am enfie toy!?” you gasped in excitement, practically foaming at the mouth.
If this were a real fluffy then you’d almost feel bad for it, but real or not, this ugly mummah-enfer was going to get a lifetime’s worth of your frustration.
You are Dingus and you are currently seething with jealousy from under the bed.
Your youngest brother, Sniff was currently getting the ride of his life and here you were without so much as a crumb of speshew huggies, tears welled up in your eyes as your “huuhuu”-s were drowned out by the aggressively fast “enfenfenfenfenfenf”-ing.
“am jus nu faiw… wy am wife su cwuew?” you sobbed quietly as Bumble threw his hoof over your shoulder to comfort you.
“id am otay… Bumbwe am suwe dat Sniff gun be awwite…” he assured you, to your dissatisfaction.
When the enfies were done with the mare screeching “gud feews!”, she then jumped down and went to look for her scary looking daddeh. Bumble immediately threw himself out from under the bed once she was gone and climbed up to check on your youngest brother.
The two of you weren’t entirely sure if Sniff enjoyed those enfies or not, but you assumed that if he didn’t then he would have said something.
Regardless, you tried to get him to stand but his hind legs kept wobbling, reducing him to a very slow waddle.
Suddenly the house was filled with bright flashing lights and then lots of humans in all black clothing came crashing through the windows. There was banging and there was bad wordsies said but it was all over before you knew it.
The three of you went into the hallway and from the top of the stairs you saw the scary human being restrained my mister Mason.
“HAH! FINALLY GOTCHA, YOU WANK STAIN!” the detective laughed triumphantly.
“hey, what about them?” One of the dark clothed humans asked as they pointed at you.
“holy shit… they’re still alive? well fuck a duck!” he chuckled in reply.
“wat bout deaw!?” Bumble asked him.
“get fucked!” was his only reply.
A little while later, after everything had settled down and all the humans had left, you were all alone on the patio with your two brother’s, just happy to be alive.
“weww… dat wus waste ob timsie…” you huffed with a stomp.
“hmmm, Bumbwe nu thinkie su… at weast sum fwuffy git sumtin ou ob dis” he sighed, turning towards Sniff, sitting there with shaking legs and (to your amazement and as far as you can recall) was ever so slightly cracking a smile… for the first time in his life.
-The End-
close to getting nabbed off screen by the Ripper.