Theme Week: Nightmare Hour - Part 2 (Finale), By AtlanticHillfolk

The recording shows Zack and Brandon looking over their monitor setup as the five fluffy cameras scan around the entryway, shining lights on the dingy entryway and the few bits of abandoned furniture while the fluffies comment on their current situations.

“Huu huu huu… Scawy…”

“Pawpsicwe nu wike dis pwace. Dawkies nu gud fow fwuffies…”

“Dummehs! Cweampuff am bwavest fwuffy!”

“Nu smeww pwetty in hewe…”

“Wocket nu scawed! Wocket get sketties for be bwave fwuffy!”

Brandon rolls his eyes and presses down on the chat button for Kyle.

“Kyle…”

“Well edit it out in post, don’t worry. We need the mikes to be sensitive in order to pick up ambient sounds.”

“Right…”

Zack flicks on the communication between his suite and the fluffies.

“Alright you five, split up and search the house. Willow and Popcicle, you guys take the upstairs, Rocket, Creampuff and Bloom, downstairs.”

Slowly, all of the fluffies make their way off into different directions, hearing the ambient sounds of the wind rattling the windows and howling through the cracks in the houses damaged roof and walls.

-=-

The recording speeds up, showing the boys on the monitors quickly jumping from side to side and the fluffy cameras quickly scan various dark and dreary rooms, pieces of furniture covered in moth eaten linin sheets and other such things.

The recording slows to normal speed when the fluffy Rocket came across a large hole in the floor in one of the main floor rooms that may have at one point been a lounge.

On the command feed, Zack leans over and taps the radio button for Rockets collar.

“Hey Rocket, get a little closer and show us what’s in the hole, would you?”

The little red stallion’s camera lifts ever so slightly as he stands up tall and proud.

“Wocket am bestest fwuffy, wook in stupi fwoow howe fow sketties!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll get yours just look in the hole would you!”

Rocket exclaimed something about ‘sketties’ that the mic didn’t quite catch before quickly toddling over to the edge of the hole and peering down into the black void below, catching only the glimpse of a dirty cobblestone of the basement below.

The little red stallion didn’t even notice the ominous creaking of the weak wood near the edge.

“Wocket du wah nyu daddehs wan, gib sketties now pwe-EEEEEEE- ”

The camera shot dramatically upward as and the boys faces flared in surprise as the floor gave out from under the fluffy carrying the camera and caused Rocket to plummet into the basement, smacking into ground hard and apparently crushing his support foal.

“EEE! WEGGIES! WAI WEGGIES NU WOWK?! BIGGEST HEWTIES EBAH! SCREE-”

Zack leaned over and flicked the ‘mute’ button on Rocket’s mic before turning to Brandon.

“Well, at least the camera seems to be okay.”

-=-

Another skip, this time only a few minutes ahead, more rooms, more furniture.

The camera pans in on a dark, mouldy bathroom filled with old fixtures and damaged tiles that look like they were never repaired. A large puddle of murky water pooled in the center of the room from an unseen leaking pipe

“Nu smeww pwetty in hewe… Pawpcicwe nu wike…”

The camera swivels to take in the room very quickly before the Popsicle turns to leave. On the boys monitor, Zack and Brandon shake their heads and Zack presses the communication on the blue fluffies collar.

“Popcicle, we need a better shot of the room. Go back in there and get a better shot.”

“Wah dat mean?”

“Oh for the love of… climb up on the toilet and at least get a waist shot for Kyle to stitch together later into something scary!”

Popsicle walked back into the bathroom and hastily scrambled up onto the old style toilet to take in a better view. Scanning the room from a higher perspective he took in the sight of a crumbled porcelain sink, a shattered mirror and a deep clawed bathtub filled with brackish water.

“Am nyu daddehs happy?”

“One more shot of the bathwater, I’m sure we could use the footage later.” Zack replied over the collar.

Popsicle put his front hooves up on the tubs rim and looked over into the rippling filthy water, seeing his light blue reflection cast back from the water and a thin layer of floating algae or mold that floated on top, spinning into eerie shapes in the low light.

The camera flickers for a moment and the mic picks up an audio distortion. The two boys check their equipment and try to press the radio button but receive no feedback from the fluffies equipment.

Suddenly the feed becomes too distorted to make out what is happening, devolving to static, before quickly snapping back into focus at near full clarity. The camera shakes violently and is occasionally covered by a translucent brown green liquid.

“HEWP! BLUGGLE! WAWA BAD FOW FWU-BBBLLL! PAWPCICWE NU WAN G-G-GURLE!”

Suddenly the camera feed cuts due and that screen lights up with a ‘camera error’ message as the blue fluffy and its support foal try desperately not to drown in the background, and Brandon slams his fist down on the table.

“NOOO! DAMN IT, MY CAMERA, NOT IN THE WATER! GOD DAMN IT!”

“Relax dude, they’re cheap mobiles anyway!”

“CHEAP! DUDE THOSE THINGS ARE LIKE FORTY BUCKS!”

-=-

The time stamp on the video reverses to just before the footage with Popcicle occurs, shifting perspective to the fluffy exploring the bottom floor who Zack had called Bloom.

She explores the kitchen scanning the room for something, not actually sure what it is that she is looking for, but trying to take in as much as she can and occasionally speaking up to ask the empty air;

“Hewwo? Am anybody in hewe? Hewwo-o-o”

“Huu-huu, babbeh nu wike dawkies… scawwy…”

The camera on Blooms head tilts ever so slightly as she tries, only partly succeeding to console the tiny foal strapped to its back, who cooed audibly at the other fluffy and gripped her in a hug.

“Babbeh nu wan ghosties fine fwuffy…”

“Dewe, dewe, widdwe nu see babbeh! Bwoom hewe nyu daddehs say dat ghosties nu am weal! Saddehs neba fine ghosties eben do dey wook fow lwots of fowebahs!”

As Bloom turns back to the task at hand the camera begins to glitch out, turning to static and losing picture quality while the microphone starts picking up only static and occasional audio distortions.

The distortions continue like this for a couple of minutes before eventually cutting back in.

“SCREEEEEEEEE!”

The camera shakes violently as Bloom streams through the underbrush in terror, striking low hanging branches and sticks as she flees in blind panic toward the edge of the woods.

The comfort foal thumped against her side as she ran, having come loose from the tape that held it in place but still held to her rig by string, the foal cried out in confused distress.

“EEE! BABBEH HAB HEWTIES! OWWIES! WAH HAPPEN! OWWIES! HUU HUU HUU!”

Shortly thereafter a message appears on the feed for that screen, ‘WARNING: TO FAR FROM HUB’, and Kyle the editor looks up on his screen to see the feed go dead while Zack and Brandon are bitching about their lost camera.

“Uhh, hey guys…”

The other two continued bickering as Kyle simply shook his head as the other two ignored him. He booted up a few screens on his monitor illuminating his face and showing that unlike the other two, he was set up inside of the house.

He started furiously typing while mumbling to himself just loud enough to be heard by his site mic.

“Alrighty… lets see if there was anything of value in that mess…”

-=-

The two boys looked up from their bickering on their screen to notice three things; firstly, that Rocket had apparently either died or passed out from his injuries. Second, Bloom had apparently run far enough away to cut the feed to her camera. And thirdly;

“OH, FOR FUCKS SAKES! WILLOW! STOP COWERING UP THERE AND MOVE, WE CAN’T SEE ANYTHING BUT THE FLOOR!”

The off white fluffy could be heard from her side of the mic, softly sobbing into her hooves as the two blindfolded foals tried there best to hug the fear that she was obviously feeling away.

“Huu huu huu… Wiwwow scawed… nu wike… huu huu…”

Zack leaned over pressed the shock collar button on Willows terminal, causing the fluffy to scream in agony as it was shocked in an effort to try and get it to stand up.

“SCREEE! NU HEWTIES! TU SCAWED! HUU HUU!”

Despite the shocks, the white fluffy wouldn’t stand up of uncover her eyes, although she did writhe in pain as the first shock came to an end. Zack got a frustrated look on his face as the creature defied his orders.

“Alright you stubborn little…”

Zack depressed the shock button again and Willow wriggled in pain and screamed against the electricity running through her body. She still didn’t move.

Zack lifted his finger and depressed the button again, this time intent to hold it until the damn fluffy got up and moved.

Suddenly, the video distorts for a brief moment and when it returns, Willow has stopped screaming and began quietly sobbing to herself, and Zack gave a confused look to his keyboard.

“What the fuck…”

He tapped the button again, eliciting nothing. He furiously slammed the button down a few more times growing increasingly more frustrated until he turned his head toward Brandon.

“Fucking cheap ass shock collar broke, she won’t get up and these FUCKING visual distortions are really starting to bother me! Yo Kyle!”

“Working on it, gimmie a sec…” Kyle replied, clattering away on a keyboard just out of frame.

Zack rolls his eyes and turns back to the monitor, reaching down and pressing the key for comms on Creampuffs as the visual distortions on Willows screen and mic become bad enough to merit muting the feed.

“CREAMPUFF! GO UPSTAIRS AND GIVE THAT LITTLE BITCH SORRY HOOFIES UNTIL SHE GETS UP!”

“Cweampuff on da way nyu daddeh! Gib sowwy hoofies to meanie Wiwwow!”

The camera perspective for Creampuff starts trundling up the stairs until he comes into a long hallway branching left and right, with a number of open or destroyed doors on either side.

After some instruction from the boys, he turns right and starts down the hallway toward the back end where Willows tracker is.

“Wewe am dummeh Wiwwow?!”

An audio distortion comes over the line for a brief moment but soon enough the light sound of sniffles and huu-huu’s came over the mic from off to the cream-colored stallion’s immediate right.

“Dewe am Dummeh, Cweampuff gib wowestes sow-”

At which point the audio goes distorted and the picture in the feed is lost. Zack and Brandon throw their hands up in frustration, cursing about cheap gear while Kyle furiously works on his computer trying to cut through the distortions.

Suddenly, the screen showing Creampuff comes back online through the distortion. He’s bolting down the hallway going in the opposite direction heading for the entryway as fast as his nubby little legs can take him.

“SCREEEEEE! MUNSTAH! CWEAMPUFF WUN WAY! SCREEEEEE! CWEAMPUFF NU-EEE!”

Creampuff hits an uneven board at the top and fell head first down the stairs, smashing its head and body on just about every step on the way down, also crushing its comfort foal in the process, until its broken carcass came to a rolling stop in the entryway; twitching and voiding his limited bowels.

-=-

The three boys stare in silence for a moment until Zack stands up from his chair in the outside command center and walks off screen, shouting back to Brandon to watch the monitors while he goes and does this ‘him-fucking-self’.

A few moments later, kyle notices something from his monitor and reaches back behind him, grabbing a camera in his hand and passing it over to his friend who is on the opposite side of the monitor.

“Take this one, better quality, should glitch out less. Working on clearing the distortions, almost done.”

“Thanks man, preesh!”

With that, a new much clearer screen fills the view. This one helmed by Zack holding a much more quality camcorder while the other two boys take up the majority of the bottom of the screen

Zack turns on the camera and the screen is filled with the broken body of Creampuff as Zack looks over the camera equipment.

“Ehh, little bit banged up, but it’ll live.”

“The fluffy?” Brandon replies, confused.

“No! The camera, dumbass, the fluffy is absolutely fucked!”

“Now, were is that little bitch, swear to God, I’m gonna sorry stick her into next week!”

Zack begins climbing the stairs heading to the second floor, sorry stick in hand. Brandon just thanks god that he didn’t lose a third camera to shitrat stupidity.

-=-

On Kyle’s screen, Kyle himself gives a satisfactory ‘yes’ arm thrust and picks up his headphones, plopping them on his head he begins to listen to the undistorted audio that he managed to unscramble.

Neither one of the other two boys notice when Kyle’s expression changes on his screen, going rapidly from curiosity, to confusion, to abject terror!

On his screen, Kyle silently stands from his monitor, knocking his chair over in the process, looking around the room he’s in in a panic, before running out of frame for the camera and disappearing, the sound of his hurried footsteps being the carrying through his recording.

On Brandon’s screen, Brandon looks up to see Kyle running past the outside command center, get into his car and peel off without a word

“Hey! HEY! DUDE, WHERE ARE YOU GOING! C’MON MAN WHAT THE FU-”

-=-

At this point in the video, both Brandon and Kyles screens are dropped and the entirety of the screen is taken up by Zacks feed.

Zack walks up the stairs taking in the sound of the rotting old house, creaking wood and shuttering windows can be heard through the cameras microphone as well as the distant sound of a fluffy quietly talking.

“There you are…” Zack responds, angrily gripping the sorry stick and stomping off down the hall.

As Zack gets closer to the sound of the fluffy, a few visual distortions can be seen creeping into the edges of the recording, although true to Kyles word, the camera still holds the recording.

He gets close enough to hear Willows soft talking, and the unexpected sound of a faint voice answering her back.

“Sniff… tank yu fow huggies missy… Wiwwow sowwy fow make bad peepees on da fwoor… su scawdy…”

“There, there, little one… it’s alright… this place is so messy no-one would ever notice… shh, shh, shh…”

From behind Zacks camera, a scoff could be heard.

“Oh, perfect…”

The camera around the corner into a small-ish room filled with rotting books, an old heavy typewriter and a rotted single bed.

Once inside, the recording takes in a shot of a young lady sitting on the floor in a faded white dress, cradling Willow and her two comfort foals on her sholders.

She strokes the fluffies pale grey mane and occasionally reaches a finger over to pat the head of the foals, who coo in response to the touch.

Zacks frustration can be heard when he addresses the girl;

“Oh great, a fucking transient hugboxer! That shitrat and the gear on it’s back is mine Meth-Mary, hand it over I’ve got a video to shoot!”

“And as for you!” He said turning his attention to the fluffy itself “You didn’t get any good shots for the show! I am going to sorry stick you until it stops being funny!”

The girl froze in her movements, before slowly setting the fluffy down on the floor and gesturing over to the ruined bed.

“Remember when I told you to hide under the bed and cover your eyes when the monsters come? Can you do that for me now, little one…”

“Sniff… Otay nyu mummah…”

The fluffy quickly scurried off under the bed as Zack stepped into the room to chase after it, only to pause when he realized it was too far under the bed to reasonably reach.

“What the hell! I’m your owner you rotten little shit, whats all this ‘nyu mummah’ bullshit! You’ve got a lot of nerve girly…”

Zack turned the camera to face the girl who had stood up to face him; taking in the sight of her ratty blonde hair, her filthy ragged dress, her pale freckled skin… her slightly glowing yellow eyes… her dark purple fingers and toes where the blood pooled…

Zack opened his mouth, words catching in his throat, just as her face contorted into an inhuman howl and she rushed toward him causing the camera to glitch out as she got close!

The camera fell to the ground, an the last shot seen in the now cracked lens is the sight of Willow cowring under the bed, a two sets of feet floating a few inches off of the ground, one set kicking wildly and the sound of Zacks terrified screaming.

“Leave her alone!"

-=-

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8 Likes

Get stuffed, dumb kids. Good job, hugboxer ghost girl.

4 Likes

Fluffies die through their stupidity and video making Zoomers get rekt, I love it

2 Likes

Feels like those bad horror movies that dont give a shit only for the hits until they came face to face with death himself.

Did the other fluffies died by her hands or by diff ghosts?

3 Likes

Rocket: Death by poor structural engineering.
Popcicle: Scared into the bathtub by accident and rapidly drowns.
Bloom: Scared into the woods, fate not determined. (But she’s a fluffy soo…)
Creampuff: Scared by ghostly presence and ends up breaking his own neck by accident.

Soo, technically they were all killed by her in the most indirect way possible.

Except Rocket, who died to termites…

And Willow who gets to live as a ghosts pet for the rest of her life…

2 Likes

Ohhh ok thanks that sums it up. :+1:

2 Likes

Gosh darnit termites, killin’ dem fluffies!

2 Likes