It was a cold morning, John had woken up from a long night of nightmares that did wonders ruining his sleep, he needed something to wake him up.
He went to the kitchen and followed his usual kitchen routine, make a hot coffee and take a piece of bread to enjoy the coffee with, he sat down when, just as he was about to take a sip of his coffee, something crashed on the garden.
Grumpy and angry because his coffee morning was interrupted he went to check the source of the sound.
Maybe one of the chains holding the hanging pots broke and it fell down he thought as he unlocked and opened the door.
It couldn’t be something so simple, what he saw angered him even more, there was a fluffy family on his garden, the mother was eating the small flowery bushes that had just started to bloom, the father was sleeping on his lemongrass, it had taken so long to grow big and strong only to have a piece of feral shit sleeping on it.
The foals were playing and running around, uncaring for what they trampled or what they pushed each other to, to add insult to the injury, they didn’t care for his presence or his obviously angry glare, they just spared him a glance and went on with their things, as if they were entitled to be there to begin with.
Thieves are unworthy of compassion and mercy.
He went to his toolshed, glancing at the family, only the foals spared a thought to him, only because on his walk to the toolshed he got on the way of their playing.
He got in the toolshed, an old and known punishment for human thieves seemed fitting for the pests on his garden, so he took the needed tools, a hammer, regular sized nails for the mother and the father, the thinnest nails he had for the foals.
Without a word he came out of the shed with the nails in his pockets and the hammer on his left hand, he walked to the mother who was still eating.
“I hope your family loves you enough for this to work”
The mother stopped eating and turned her head towards the voice, but before she could see who spoke something grabbed her by the back of the neck.
“Eep! No upsies fo’ fwuffy, dis am bad upsies”
She couldn’t see who was grabbing her, her now silent captor took her to a big tree that was thicker than her when she was pregnant, she felt scared, an ominous feeling spread across her body.
The foals have finally stopped playing, looking as the human that got in the way a moment ago was now carrying their mother by the scruff, they ran to the rescue thinking they could rescue her mother from the bad human.
“Wet mummah gu munstah!” They all said as they attempted to charge with a flurry of sorry hoofsies.
He dismissed them with a light kick, just enough to push them away and leave them dazed.
“Babbehs nuuu!”
They reached the tree and he turned the mare around to get her ready, only then she could see her captor, her fear turned into hope as she saw the nice mister that lives next to her mummah, she hadn’t seen him since she ran away from her mummah to have babbehs.
She thought that maybe the nice mister could take her home like he used to do when she went playing on his garden as a foal and help her show her babbehs to her mummah, however she was so caked on filth that she was unrecognizable.
He pinned the mare to the tree with his left arm, with the other he took a nail out of his pocket, then he exchanged items between his hands, his left hand now held the nail and the right had the hammer.
The hope turned into confusion as the mare got pinned to the tree and she felt something cold touching her skin above the left hoof, then her confusion turned to horror at the first hit of the hammer on the nail.
The first hit pushed the nail through her skin, flesh and halfway through the bone, she screed loudly, waking up her special friend who was dazed by suddenly waking up.
The second hit made the nail pierce through the bone and the flesh just enough to poke the skin, the mare screed again, taking her special friend out of his dazed state and making him run to her rescue and his demise.
The third hit, with more strength than the others, pierced through the skin and nailed her leg to the tree, her special friend had arrived only to be received with a kick to the gut that made him black out.
John kept nailing the mare’s limbs to the tree, with each limb her screeing became more guttural and animalistic, the mare could only think of the pain and of why would the nice mister do that to her, why didn’t he take her to her mummah like he used to do.
When he was finished she was just a sobbing mess, tears and snot stained her already dirty fluff, blood dripped from her nailed limbs, she tried to struggle to get off the tree, but that only brought her more pain.
The father was still blacked out, he accomodated him so their hoofs would touch each other, he nailed the hoof that was touching the mare’s first, the pain of the first hit jolted him awake, screeing loudly as his special friend had done when he first woke up.
When both were nailed to the tree he collected the terrified foals in an empty pot and went to the toolshed again, he had some spare barbwire that he used to craft a crown wide enough for the couple to share and be tight enough to pierce their skin with the sharp parts, he took it to the punishment place and put it beside the foal pot.
He took the foal matching the father’s colors and put the nails as close to the hoofs as possible, it screed loudly as Jhon hammered and made its parents turn from a sobbing mess to a crying one, the foal was nailed right under the mother, he punctured her teats so bloody milk would drip on its face and trickle down its face.
The second foal, matching the mother’s colors, was nailed right under the father, Jhon nailed the father’s balls so blood would drip on the foal’s head.
The third and last foal was nailed between the parents, it wasn’t a perfect blend, just a filthy and messy combination of its parents colors, Jhon made sure that each front hoof of the foal would touch one of the hind hoofs of each parent.
The finishing touch was the barbwire crown, Jhon stretched it careful to not hurt himself and let it tight back when both heads were in it, the two thieves now were together in a tainted and wicked family, tightly knit together by the tree and baptized under the metal thorn crown.
Jhon went back into his house after deciding he’d take care of the whole mess after breakfast, when he sat back down and sipped on his coffee he discovered it was disgustingly lukewarm, he cursed his morning and thought nothing could ruin it more, until he heard the horrified scream of his neighbor who’s fluffy had gone missing a month ago.
