“the fluffy hunters”
A fluffy pony story written and illustrated by wackadoo1997
Part one: showtime
(authors note: this is an 18+ story. duh)
“The process is simple, we start with a fluffy pony that has been factory born on site, and given the proper dosages of growth hormones, vitamins and essential nutrients to accelerate its maturity. What happens next, is that we prepare it for its next stage in life, which is the introduction of its new genetic makeup via Genetic therapy. A blood sample is taken from a progenitor Hunter, and inserted into the subject’s marrow. Over the course of the next few days, it shall become fully integrated with the original subjects of blood samples instead of its own, slowly the blood cells carry the new genetic material to every cell in the body, instigating the secondary growth cycle. This cycle begins with the rapid ingestion of nutrients and vitamins to encourage stable and sustained growth during the period. The subject’s vascular system, muscular system and skeletal system rapidly change, with the body soon growing into a stronger, taller and more durable form. The bones become semi-cartilaginous as they expand, and only ossify once the entire process is finished, preventing malformations as was seen in early testing. The enhanced vascular system cannot be sustained by the heart which will be replaced by an automatic electronic system once the cycle finishes. Moreover, the hasbio encoded functions are erased from memory, and replaced with the behavior protocols instituted by tiger cybertronics programmers. This is what gives the hunter its drive, purpose and ambition to exterminate its former brethren. Finally, it is taken to surgery, where its body is given a final overhaul to prepare it for life as a cybernetic tool. Stainless steel dental crowns are installed on the newly developed carnivorous teeth, Shoulders are removed and replaced with sockets directly into the body that connect to the spinal column, the pelvic region is removed and replaced with a Hyundai servo chassis, powered by blood flow itself via a microgenerator. The arms and legs of the creature are replaced with a proprietary drive system, which remains classified between tiger cybertronics and the United States department of agriculture. Subsequently, Bioelectric Transition Coupler aka. BTC modules are implanted on the spine, in a saddle-like apparatus that connects directly to the hunter. It is then outfitted with a neoprene bodysuit that protects its flesh from general obstacles and hazards. Finally, each one is outfitted with a carbon fiber helmet with titanium plating, this is The piece 'de resistance. Finally, the fluffy hunter has reached maturity, and is now ready to be instructed and trained on its purpose in life. It will now work alongside its handlers, trainers and the general public to exterminate the fluffy ponies that pollute our waterways, devour our crops, and destroy everything that they touch. Once the threat has been neutralized completely, they will be turned over to the public sector for purchase.”
Dr Vanskyock watched as the presentation finished itself, leaning back in his office chair and staring at his desktop screen. Much of the official information on how his brand project was actually created was omitted, for the sake of brevity but nevertheless he felt it actually articulated the points in a concise way. There was no chance in hell those meat-headed tech bro investors could POSSIBLY not understand what they were being told. He detested having to explain himself and his work to them, but frankly he was among the few onsite directors that actually knew how to talk to people. It paid off to take a minor in communications in college. As you sat back in his office he ejected the disc for his computer and put it in a Jewel case labeled “1/5/203�”. Rubbing his temples in frustration he took a deep breath and reassured himself that the meeting would go well, and that the demonstration would not go off the rails as it did last time. The smell of diseased fluffy excrement still wouldn’t leave the testing chamber.
“Alrighty old boy, Time to go begging for money again.” With gusto he straightened his tie, parted his hair out of his face with his hands, and took his presentation materials with him to the conference room on the other side of the facility, ever ready for whatever inane questions were being thrown at him within the next hour.
The day’s shipment of feral fluffies all were eagerly penned up in the Conex box they had been shipped in, some crying, some miserably begging to be let out. The sides of the box were made out of wire mesh instead of steel plating, allowing for them to breathe through. One of the junior researchers stood by, wearing a big white coat and blue gloves, and looked them over. He stood to the side and marked something on the big paper he was holding in his hand, and then turned back to the fluffies.
“Okay fluffies, I need you to listen to me, this is important!” Clap his hands thusly and they all slowly turn to him, some still sniffling. “No, I need you to understand that there’s nothing bad that’s going to happen! You see, this is the way to fluffy land! There’s going to be lots of spaghetti for everybody and lots of pretty toys and pretty blocks to play with, and you can watch fluff TV all day long!” As soon as he told them this saccharine lie The amassed throng of fluffies burst into cheers and laughter came, letting cry tiny little yips and peeps of exaltation.
“wan sketti’s! Wan play, wan play! Wuv mistuh!” The researcher put on a fake smile and not an agreement as they all cheered for him, he stood by with his radio on his hip, waiting to receive a signal from above. It once was a warehouse, but after the revitalization of tiger electronics into a cybernetics company, the space had been repurposed into what could only be described as the perfect fluffy habitat. Playgrounds built in their size, plenty of Play areas for them to explore in, crawl around in and make nests. Even a farm, that fluffies were infamously known to raid in the wild, fields of wheat and corn that had been transplanted. The walls were painted gayly with blue skies and white puffy clouds made of unwrapped insulation foam. Everything within there would have fooled a fluffy into thinking it was in the real world. A paradise for a small bio toy with limited intellect. As the door to the Conex box was opened, little spring loaded ramps that unfolded that gave way as the penultimate stretch of their Exodus. They all stormed into the warehouse and were delighted by what they saw, so many things to climb on, so many things to play with, so many pretty colors that assaulted their senses like a Muhammad Ali uppercut. And they were eating it up, nothing could stop them from their cacophonous chirping and cheering. The young man in the lab coat in Blue gloves moved the box away with a large pallet jack, and shut the garage door behind them, and locked it tight. He immediately started complaining about the stench things behind, urine, feces and deceased trampled foals. The little Monsters just didn’t give a fuck or have any dignity. Selfishness of it all. All he had to do now It was clean out the Conex box and Head to the research station to watch the immanent Carnage unfold.
a few hours later In the observation lounge above, the amassed investors and shareholders of tiger cybertronics were given excellent seating to view the entire training room. It was packed full, standing room for bodyguards and translators. Who had come with some of the shareholders and investors, some of whom were foreigners with a concerned interest in the extermination of fluffies in their own homelands. “Now gentlemen” you shall observe that a few hours prior, we released up to 200 specimens in the enclosure-” they all observed as fluffies went about their day, playing around, swooning each other and trying to find a new special friends, mother’s looking after their foals and of course, they were pissing and crapping all over the place with little regard. In one corner of the play area, a few darker colored fluffies had already been segregated into poopy bebbehs. No one was surprised or supportive of this decision, the poor bastards had discrimination burned into their brains for the sake of producing marketable offspring. “As you will observe, they have nestled themselves in here and made it their home. You may ask yourselves why we have deemed the name of this facility as “sorrybox one” you should now observe and receive your answer”
The pack of fluffy hunters waited in their cage, breathing slow, relaxed breaths as they waited to be released. Their eyes started back and forth, the tiny screens on their backpack modules flickered with a dull red light as text appeared rapidly in calculated sequences, monitoring their life signs and connectivity to each other through radio relays built into the backpacks. Each of them had been given a designation from their group. So far in the alphabet that had reached the “F” generation. The oldest of the bunch was born but 5 months ago, and gone through rigorous training alongside his brethren. They were all brothers now. It didn’t matter if they had been born as females, or males. They were brothers. Which ones were gentle demure eyes that gazed at the world with wonder and love scanned the room now with the accusing glare of a starved predator. Their mechanical legs whizzed and buzzed on the inside underneath the faux fur coverings that protected them from the elements, and within their chests their artificial hearts stayed oscillating in a sustained level. They were ready. They were hungry. They demanded the hunt. The only thing to look forward to in life was the hunt, the hunt was the reason to live, to live was to hunt. Hunt was to please the good moms and dads who provided everything for them, all their food, all their scratches and pets, all of the baths and arms and legs. With an eagerness unlike anything articulated through the written word, they felt their cage lift up out of the ground, slivers of artificial sunlight themed in through all four directions, glistening off of the polished metal that was exposed on their bodies. The micro equine homunculi were exposed to their hunting grounds once more.
The shareholders and investors watched excitedly, some of them standing up in their seats as the cage was unveiled on the opposite corner of the warehouse, TV monitors that held above them gave them a bird’s eye view of the entire facility. They could see the polished metal bodies, the black neoprene bodysuits that held them tight, and glimpses of their gaily colored fur from beneath. As they rose, everybody watched with bigger breath as a single fluffy waddled before them. It is a colored coat of orange, and a very pleasing blue and white striped mane. The fluffy stands there, watching as these four carpenters of death staring down, fixated on it with the impulsive demand to slaughter and consume its flesh. Instead of running and screaming come up it puffed up its little cheeks and stomped its little hooves, huffing and puffing.
“Go away munstahs! Dis am smawtys pwace, yu can’t be heaw! Goway! Ugwy stupid ugwy munstahs!” he continued to stomp and defiantly yell at them, not at all aware that it’s final moments on Earth had been wasted not running away. With a rapid slam the door to the cage was pulled into the ground by pneumatic Pistons, and all four of them leapt for the fluffy. In seconds, two of them had grabbed onto it from the left and right side of its whole body, the third one scurried behind rapidly skating on its mechanical claws. They tore it to pieces in an instant, their lips flared up as their teeth exposed, shredding the thing into a cloud of viscera and orange fluff, devouring it with absolute haste. Within the span of a half second, there was nothing left, they had shredded everything, only an orange and red stain on the floor remained. Then the hunt was on, the four of them spoke wirelessly as they made a plan, and all four of them began a silent infiltration into the facility. The investors and shareholders gathered were remarking and how quickly it all happened, but watching them last as they snuck up into farmland area.
“Mummah wuv bebbehs, mummah wuv hew widdle widdle babbehs” sang the mare as she sat in an overturned peach crate. She sang to her babies tenderly as her special friend marched around looking for food to bring to her; other mares had done the same thing in the same spot, turning the small barn into a nursery of sorts. As she sat there, one of her babies decided to go exploring, to which she praised it “bestest babbeh so gooood at spwowin! Mummah so proud!” The Little purple foal happily went straight into the tall grasses, ignoring the many toys and pieces of forlorn equipment that had been left around for them to hide and play in. As he made his way into the tall grass, he giggled and cooed to himself, amused by the scale of it all. He kept walking further and further in.
“hehehehehe! Biiiiiiig gwassies!” has he marched along, he bumped into something very hard, but not hard enough to scare him and leave him in pain, but to get his attention. The little purple looked up, and was confused by what it saw, it was green and fluffy like a fluffy should be, but it wasn’t soft like a fluffy should be. It also had a hairless black body, and a big shiny face to look down at. “Am…u fwuffy new fw-” before it could finish its innocent query, it was squished into a fine mush of slop and fluff. Its organs ejaculated from its mouth and pressure-ruptured anus. The claws that slammed down upon it raised it from the ground, bringing it to its mouth. It licked the smear of crimson off its claws. It’s hunger and hatred for fluffies was undying. As he tiptoed through the grass it smelled the path the foal had left, upon exiting it saw the mares and their foals beside the small barn, and could hear them all on the inside chirping, cooing and peeping. By thought alone it sent out a message on its backpack, the message rang out to all the others
“FLUFFIES. SHED. SUBSTANTIAL AMOUNT. MOTHERS. OFFSPRING. CIRCLE. ENSNARE”
“YES”
“YES”
“YES”
He slumped back into the grass temporarily as it saw its three brothers circle the entire enclosure, and with a synchronized motion all four darted out. The first one went straight for the peach crate tackling it head-on as It charged head first into the damn thing, splinters and paper went everywhere from the faded wrapping on it. The mother and her foals were scattered like bouncy balls. It reached the mother and with one swift action he bit down on her rear end, she howled, the pained scream could be likened to a coach’s whistle. It smacked her hard against the edge of the shed, her skull exploding in a gusher of blood and gray matter. Her little frail bones shattered and soggy. her baby’s kept chirping and screaming for their mother. It didn’t bother hitting her twice against the shed as she had already gone limp as a noodle, and it tore into her flesh, ripping out her organs and swallowing them up. As for the foals, he bit down each one like they were fruit gusher candies. Their screams were abruptly silenced as they were swallowed up, as the remains of the mother and her holes entered its digestive system they were shredded up by its auto stomach, comparable in function to a garbage disposal. As the mare’s mate came back it saw everything, dropping his gathered food and his jaw to the ground. In a moment his mate and offspring were gone! Wiped off the face of the Earth and soon he was as well as the second of the hunters burst through and stomped him flat, squishing him like a toothpaste beneath the back tires of a semi truck. The other two which had burst into clearing darted in the barn, and were having an absolute bloodbath.
Mares covered their babies under boxes and behind junk intentionally left in the barn. Systemically and chaotically, the two hunters destroyed the inside of the barn. smashing boxes to crush and squelch the noise of crying foals and their mothers. In futility they tried to beg their babies to stop crying, only to immediately be bitten down and pulled apart by serrated teeth and metal claws, their bodies torn to shreds before their hearts could stop beating or their brains could stop functioning. one mare had her skull degloved and torn off, and managed for but 3 seconds after her decapitation to roll across the floor at witness her own body being shredded, her babies squished into a fine red mist as they were devoured up by the hunter, and with mercy she was stepped on accidentally by the other one, as it proceeded to disembowel a pregnant mare. It ate up fervently as her premature foals briefed their first and final breaths, immediately letting out pointless peeps. The men gathered in the observation lounge to watch on TV screens from the camera feed inside of the barn come up in shock and awe, it took less than 5 maybe ten minutes at the most to clear out the entire thing, a barn that was as big as an average apartment! But by now, someone noticed that the commotion had stirred up all the other fluffies in the habitat, and some were flooding over to the farm in curiosity. Others that were marginally smarter were running away from the screams and yells, but soon the other two hunters broke off from the massacre in the barn and fled through the grass to the inner city exhibit.
The inner City portion resembled an alleyway, filled with trash, filled with the storefronts for fake businesses, and cameras mounted everywhere to get a good slice of the action. One of the hunters circled round one of the fake businesses, and along the back alleyway that led to the main drag. It slowly crept around the corner to observe that there were fluffies playing around with empty cans and litter that had been left around by the assembly crew. It barked over the radio at its brother “FLUFFIES. HERE. MANY. WHAT SAY YOU” static crackled through the radio signal that went straight to its brain, and a response came through “ MANY HERE. MANY HERE TOO. PURSUIT ON OUR OWN?” “AGREED”
It did not hesitate to leap across the street, and vault itself off of a telephone pole, in doing so it dove straight at a group of fluffies playing with an old, discarded football. It tackled the three of them, grabbing two of them at the same time and crushing the third under its body as it tumbled across the ground. The one that had been crushed was lucky to have had its body turn into a frothy red pulp, The other two were torn apart individually and chomped away as though they were made of tissue paper and cotton candy. Their screams and death gurgles were observed by the hiding family of fluffies hiding in an abandoned newspaper box. Some left in the open sought refuge in an overturned trash can. The Hunter turned to the trash can ones as they were the closest, and with a quick pounce crumpled in the open end of the can, leaving it pinched shut. It rapidly realized It could kill them by trampling the rest of the Can. Everyone watched in shock and appreciation of its ingenuity as it quickly made short work of the trash can. flattening it out as blood, feces and urine trickled out of the crumpled can. A single milk crate came out of the alleyway, foals and chirpy babies scattered from it. Poor Little Bodies scattering across the pavement with such force as to break their bones come up, tear their flesh and render them bleeding and screaming. Peeping desperation for a mother who is no longer alive and no longer able to save them. The second Hunter came out of the alleyway, locking eyes with his brother “no more there.”
It barked in a monotone hiss. It’s voice was not anything like the squeaky, infantile sound of the fluffy they had been growing from, they’re expanded larynxes now resembled a sonic quality comparable to a throaty belch and an electric razor at the same time. This shocked the audience “Yes gentleman, they are capable of speaking as well. Though we have trained them to primarily not conduct themselves in this manner unless absolutely necessary, as in this instance they are doing it amongst one another to communicate clearly and concisely.”
“Very well” barked the other hunter. The two proceeded down the street, sniffing out and destroying all of the nests that had been made, and drawing out all of the hidden prey. The other two had made their way out of the barn finally. The attack had been so Savage and frenzied that the structure had sustained damage. Shelves broken. Crates shattered. A single window broken shattered out turned. To stained glass by the vital fluids of the now long-deceased fluffy who had been defenestrated. The two hunters had made their way to a segment of the warehouse that looked like a little playground, with a multi-story fluffy habitat full of rainbow colored plastic and foam rubber covered metal.
The fluffies had heard the sounds of fluffies over 100 feet away screaming and yelling, but huddled together in fear. The hunters watched their prey in fascination. The one laid down flat and set itself for a trap. It’s throat tightening up. And began to peep and chirp like a little baby. As soon as he did so, the fluffies in the play tower all perked up.
“Bebbehs??? Bebbehs scared!”
“Bebbehs need mummah, but mummahs scared!”
“Fluffy wiwl get bebbehs.” Spoke up a brown Pegasus mare. “Poopie mummah no want bebbehs get biggest heart hurties. Not faiw fo bebbehs.” With gumption she marched down the little ramp from the cubby she and many other fluffies hid in. She was watched in awe and reverence by the herd as she made her way out. Waddling out into the play area. The flowerbed and garden that separated the farm fence from the farm had a winding little path for the fluffies themselves to traverse, for fun. As she made her way through, she got closer and closer the baby Chirps got louder and louder- until they stopped. “Buh…bebbehs?” The hunter who had been screeching infantile cries froze from the flowers, and glared down at her. As fear gripped her, the insurmountable quivering fear became awe. “Sun ov a bich…”
She was summarily bitten from behind by the other hunter and with a single bite and jerk she was thrown, the bottom half of her body degloved itself at the bitemark, leaving a streak of blood in the air as the rest of her was hacked into the air. Her body somersaulting uncontrollably as she flew straight into the glass of the observation lounge, exploding on impact like a biological firework. The men lunged back and swore, Immediately turning from shock and anger to fascination “how about that” Dr. Vanskyock said to himself. They all got up and watched as the two came out of the garden into the clearing. The rainbow play place emanated with the fearful screams and cries of the amassed fluffies. The other two came from around the corner, now surrounding the lot of them. All four encircled them all.
They paused and communicated via radio, the little LED lights on the tips of their backpack antennae blinking. They all then climbed onto different parts rapidly, digging and clawing into the cubbies and tubes. Barely getting their prey at all. The fluffies inside all climbed to the top, farther and farther away. One of the hunters bit onto a guy wire, and climbed up the foam padded rope to the top, shocking all the observers with its cunning. Then, it all happened so quickly.
One of the corners of the play place had lifted from the ground, and in doing so had dislodged itself from the locking anchor that held it in place. when it stumbled back in the other direction, it did not lock back into its hole but imperfectly balanced on the rim of it, the weight of the fluffies all reaching the top and the hunter climbing up the side moved back in the opposite direction, bending the tower further away from its dislodged anchor. Sensing limited danger the hunter jumped down to the ground, and scattered back as fast as he could. But as The first fluffies were forced out of the top of the enclosure, they realized what was happening. The tower began to list even further backwards, one of the guy wires popped out of the floor, and another, The fluffies inside all leaned to the direction of the fall inadvertently. Many of them fell out, or jumped out in desperation, their babies thrown clear by those selfish enough to make room for themselves in the tower! Guy wires came dislodged and whipped their metal pegs like whips. The mid-section of the Tower crumpled, cheaply made plastic and metal dislodged itself from thier joints as the stress overcame it all. The top half, folding over on itself hit the ground and shattered in all directions, plastic, metal, and fluffies spilled out. The hunters jumped into the wreckage, clawing out the survivors and ending their useless, misbegotten lives. Fluffies who had died in the collapse were lucky. Those who didn’t were now being systemically eaten alive and devoured. One fluffy was caught crawling away with his disembodied organs trailing behind him like coattails. A hunter grabbed him by his intestines and flung him around, as it spun in the air it caught the poor thing mid-spin and bit it down in a sickening crunch. The gore and sinew spilled on the foam rubber flooring, leaking all over the fluffy sized seesaws and swings. It was a bloody horror show in pastels
As they all feverishly did their work, they sniffed out any more survivors. They surveyed the whole area, top to bottom and under every nook and cranny. They were all alerted by Dr Vanskyock took his radio and spoke over it “hunters, you have done well, you may return to your cage once you are sure you have succeeded." The doctor faced his audience. “Gentlemen, what do you think?” The men cheered, and applauded the doctor and his work. An investor claimed that he would put in an order for 200 immediately, another man claimed that 500 would be sent to his estate in Bengal. He had convinced them with this display of cunning and calculated savagery that it was a viable program, and they were all over it. He underestimated the hatred these men had for these creatures, and finally, an invention of his would sell. Everything was coming up roses.
