Week 8 video footage
Clip 4, Thursday, 5 pm Rook, Room B.
Room is still dripping wet from hose down, but is lacking any obvious trace of gore or mess. The charcoal grey fluffy set down at the door takes a hesitant step forward, tucking his raven black wings tighter against his sides as his hooves encounter the wet rubber. “If Mummah wans Wook tu be hewe, Wook wiww be hewe,” is muttered just loud enough for the audio to pick up, as noticeable as his reluctant look back at her is. When the door shuts, he sighs audibly, picking his way delicately to explore the room before sitting in the driest spot to be found to watch the door.
Some time later, his ears perk up, and he bounces back to his feet the moment before the door opens again. “Mummah- Mummah bwing nyu fwiend?” he asked, voice increasingly uncertain as he studied the fluffy she carried by the scruff of the neck.
“Pu’ Jeffwy down now, dummeh hoomin!” The pale grey unicorn makes what should be a credible attempt to kick the arm holding him. “Nu bad uppsies! Gib Jeffwy sketties now ow Jeffwy gib biggest huwties an’ sowwy poopies!” The more he yelled, the deeper the frown Rook wore as he stared up at the new fluffy.
“What do you think, Rook? Does Jeffery sound like a good new friend for you?” Shadow asked in a flat, customer service reminiscent tone, still holding out the fluffy.
“Nu. Jeffwy sounds wike nee’ wots ob sowwy hoofsies. Wike Twixie shouwda on da wittw teebee,” Rook answered decisively, his face increasingly hopeful. “Mummah, wet Wook gib bad fwuffy huwties pwease?”
“Dummeh munsta fwuffy get biggest huwties tu, wen Jeffwy get down! Dummeh, stupi’ hoomin wet-” He lashed out as hard as he could at her arm, twisting to try sinking his teeth into her wrist, and raising his tail for the promised sorry poopies. At the last moment, she shifted her grip, aiming his rump at the wall instead of her pants- “Nu faiw! Jeffwy gun gib eben wowstest owwies wen- owwies!” Shadow dropped the ranting young smarty onto the rubber padded floor, right in front of Rook. A glowering, absolutely enraged looking Rook.
“Do your worst, sweetheart.” she agreeably informed him, shutting the door behind her with a grin at the camera. Jeffery was struggling back to his hooves, still huffing about the owwies he would give the “dummeh, stupi’ munst hoomin”. Before he could stand all the way up, a cloven hoof thumped lightly against his skull, enough to daze him into blinking and shaking his head.
“‘ou caww Wook’s Mummah dummeh? Caww Mummah stupi’?” He seemed just as outraged as Glory had at being covered in shit. “Twy tu gib Mummah owwies an’ sowwy poopies?” He thumped the smaller fluffy again, just hard enough to leave his muzzle leaking bright blood.
Jeffry sat back onto his haunches, both front hooves clutched to his hurting nose as he stared at the furious alicorn. Still wobbling a little, he forced himself back to his feet, sniffing hard before he puffed his cheeks as fiercely as he could. “Munsta dawe gib Jeffwy sowwy hoofsies? Jeffwy gib dummeh munsta wowstest sowwy hoofsies, den fin’ dummeh hoomin munsta mummah an gib foebaw sweepies!” With all the misplaced confidence of a bantam rooster facing down a fox, he reared and slammed both his front hooves at Rook’s muzzle with all his might.
“Wowstest sowwy hoofsies. Reawwy.” Rook took the blows without a flinch and only the smallest of snorts, staring at the puffing stallion. All trace of rage was gone from his voice, replaced by an icy calm. “Dat nu sowwy hoofsies, stupi’. Dis is a sowwy hoofsie.” He swatted easily out with one of his own front hooves, catching the side of Jeffery’s muzzle. His face whipped to the side, bloody sputum and fragments of teeth flying. Jeffery scooted back in a trail of his own piss, hooves protectively over his face again. “Dese awe wowse sowwy hoofsies,” he continued, his voice still calm, coldly contemptuous. Both hind hooves suddenly drove themselves into the grey unicorn’s ribcage as Rook whirled. There was an audible, sickeningly wet splintering sound, and Jeffry flew back into the closed door with a thump and a even wetter wheeze.
“Jeffwy gun…Fwuffy sowwy fo’ meanie words, munsta…” the unicorn gasped, trying to get back to his hooves again. “Pwease…”
“‘Ou nu sowwy. 'Ou jus wan Wook stop.” Rook ruffled his wings, stretching like a cat before circling slowly around the gasping unicorn. One of the grey fluffy’s legs was still outstretched as he tried to get up, and the demonfluff stomped down. The bone made a muffled snapping sound, sharp edges spiking up through the skin as blood soaked into the fluff.
“Screee! Huhuhu, pwease! Jeffwy suu sowwy, munsta! -chirp - Pwease. Pwease, -peep - awweady hab wowstest owwies. Fwuffy wiww -peep- nebew caww musta mummah dummeh ‘gain, pwease! Huu hu hu -chirp- hu am gud fwuffy, pwease… Why kee’ huwtin’ fwuffy? -peep-” He was still trying to crawl away on three legs, thick lines of blood, urine, and shit left in his wake.
“Wook wike huwtin’ ou, an’ nu wan stop.” He paced lightly to the other side, stomping down on one of the hind legs this time, then the other. Jeffwy’s arduous progress forward with only one working leg became glacial, and Rook sat in a clean spot of floor, watching the broken fluffy crying incoherently with an odd tilt to his head.
After a long moment, he rose, dumping the last of the blocks out of the small wicker basket and dragging it over towards the unicorn. With a hoof lightly pinning him down, Rook pulled out a thick chunk of pale yellow mane and dropped it in the basket. Indifferent to the increased squalling, he moved on to ripping out mouthfuls of fluff to add to the pile. By the time he seemed satisfied with the pile, the smarty looked like a shivering, half plucked chicken. His naked front half was covered in raw, bleeding patches, his only remaining fluff the shit stained mess of his rump.
“-chirp- Wan die.” Jeffry had stopped even trying to get away, a trembling mess with his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him. “Wan die. -peep- ” Rook was pacing around him again, looking bored and sniffing at the wounds. He sunk his teeth in a bleeding shoulder, tugging at the broken leg as the shattered bones ground together. Mid tug, he licked thoughtfully at his lips, dropping the leg to bite back into the exposed meat of the shoulder, rip a mouthful free. Expectantly, he glanced up at the intercom and whirring camera with the chunk of meat still between his teeth.
“Go right ahead, Rook. That’s your dinner for the day,” came over the intercom, and he gulped the mouthful down happily, tore back into the open wound. It only took five minute of that steady rip-tear-eat for the steady repetition of “wan die” to break into helpless chirping and peeps. Ten more minutes for even that to fall into silence and the only audio left the endless crunching of bones and ripping of flesh between fangs.
There were strips of filthy fluff and skin still laying under a matted tail, a skull half gnawed apart for the brain, and a pair of femurs being patiently scraped clean of the last shreds of meat when the door opened again. “ Tank ‘ou fo’ nummy toysie, Mummah! Sowwy toysie say meanie tings, bu’ Wook ha funnest gamsies. Can Wook pwease hab chewie bonesies an’ fwuff fo’ nesties?”
“Sure, sweetie. But if the fluff or the bones start to smell, they have to go and you can’t have any more, okay?” Shadow scooped the demonfluff up under one arm and balanced the basket with the other.
“Otay, mummah. Nu wan nestie nu smeww pwetty. An’ Gwowy wou’d be saddies.” Rook agreed, snuggling sleepily into her arms. She held him closer for a moment, resting a cheek in the back of his mane before glancing back up at the camera and shrugging as she left the room.
First chapter- The Pack- because what we need is more fluffies bred to eat other fluffies. (1) by :Shadowfox
previous chapter- The Pack- Glory, week 8, first contact video clips (7) (by: Shadowfox)
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