Previous part: The Strongest Muscle pt. 2 [by A-S]
Having finally stopped crying the mare pushed the memories away, hoping the chirpies hadn’t heard her. Even worse, her son could have seen her, and she certainly didn’t want him to…
“Babbeh! Whewe am Big Babbeh?”
Her loud voice elicited some peeps from the small fluffpile, so she quieted down. It took all her might to stop herself from bolting out of the room to look for her missing son. Stepping into the dimly lit corridor, her momentum was brought to a halt by a small shape slowly crawling towards her. Her heart beating faster, she let her mind race. What was that shadow? Had her son been injured? Was it a monster? She weakly cried out to the figure.
“Bi… Big Babbeh? Am dat 'ou?”
Hearing his mother’s voice, the foal stopped in his tracks, dropping the plate and turning around to answer.
“Yes mummah, am Big Babbeh. Am find bestes’ sketties fo’ bestes’ mummah!”
Letting out a sigh of relief, the mare briskly covered the short distance between them with the intent of giving hew wayward son an earful for making her worry. Then her mind processed the information she had just been given.
“Babbeh find sketties?”
She couldn’t quite believe her ears. The forbidden fruit of pleasure (for fluffies, at least), brought to her by the young foal?
Sure enough, on a paper plate laid the spaghetti. The mare took in the wondrous sight, then loudly professed her love for her son and hugged him tightly.
“BIG BABBEH FIND SKETTIES! AM BESTES’ BABBEH! MUMMAH WUB 'OU!”
The foal was elated. The heart hurties his mother had were gone. She had even said he was her bestes’ babbeh too! Nuzzling into her warm fur, the young fluffy basked in the happiness radiating from his parent, softly cooing as his own sadness melted away.
“Nao mummah num sketties tu make bestes’ miwkies fo’ chiwpie babbehs, bu’ Big Babbeh num some tu!”
The little fluffy couldn’t believe his luck. In one fell swoop he had made his mother happy, got his brothers and sister the best milkies and he would even be able to taste the fabled “Sketties”!
The pair quickly devoured their portions. The foal loved it. Truly, the stories were indeed true!
His mother could swear it tasted differently from the last time, but she attributed it to hunger.
They licked the plate clean, not once wondering where it had come from, their minds completely focused on the happiness of the moment and the mere idea of sketties.
The mare started feeling woozy, so she gathered her son and marched towards the nest. Getting closer, it became evident by the chirpies’ peeping that her screams had awoken them. Soon they would be getting their fill of “Sketties milk”, so the grown fluffy thought they’d soon be asleep again. Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft “thud” coming from behind her. Turning around, she saw her son had collapsed on the ground, soundly snoring.
“Babbeh? Nu sweepies, nee’ get tu nestie. Mummah nu can take 'ou, mummah…feews so…so…sweepy”
The mare’s eyes finally closed and the world went black.
Forcing the rotting door open, the man stepped in to admire his work. He picked up the empty plate and smiled to himself when he saw the two sleeping fluffies.
“It never fails. Let’s take you home…huh?”.
His monologue was cut short by a faint noise coming from one of the rooms. Poking his head in, he quickly located the source.
“Well hello there, what do we have here?”
The man arrived home thirty minutes later. He lived in a nice single family detached house, in an upper end neighboorhood of similarly build houses, a fluffy-safe park and a small pond full of Korkea Carps. Parking his car in the garage, he picked up a duffle bag and a small jar. He was going to have some fun with his new friends. But first, he had to see his previous guest out.
Turning the lights off, he made his way to the basement, not bothering closing the door. They weren’t going anywhere and the houses were distanced enough that nobody would hear them anyway. The basement was simple. A few carpenter’s tools laid on a workbench, alongside some… “custom made” ones. In one corner an old sink, in the other a trashcan. Directly away from the door, two animal carriers sat on a table. Inside one of them there was a motionless fluffy mare, her eyes gouged out and her legs amputated. The once green fluff stained by both excrements and blood, her maroon mane and tail long gone. She had died the day before. In the other one, her special friend was trembling in fear, hiding at the bottom of the carrier. He was faring slightly better. The poor stallion’s mouth had been sewn shut, leaving a small hole for feeding. His dark purple fluff was pretty much in the same condition as his partner’s, but he retained his white tail and mane.
“Hello Booger, are you ready to have some fun tonight? I got you some new friends!”
The poor fluffy watched in horror as the mean human held a no-see sorry box with three confused and scared chirpie babies inside. His mind immediately went back to his own children.
A few days earlier, the man had told them he’d be their new daddy. Instead, he had trapped them in his “play room”. After taking away the mare’s eyes and leggies in exchange for their five foals’ wellbeing, he had taken away his “mouthie privileges”. The stallion had been forced to watch in horror as the man had quickly snapped the foals’ necks, cut them into pieces and mixed them in a bowl of kibble. Booger had wanted to tell his special friend not to eat, but all he could do was watch and cry, making muffled noises. When the mare had finished the horrible meal, the man had told her the truth. She had screamed uninterruptedly for two days before finally expiring.
“How about we play a little game with them, Booger?”