Unfinished Business Part 8: More Madness
The older foals were now clopping away from you, attempting to spare themselves the fates that befell their siblings. You knew what to do.
“Doppler! Ya still hungry? Bored?”, he didn’t understand your words but he knew the gist of what you were saying.
He probably wasn’t hungry but cats are one of those creatures who are intelligent enough to get bored. Murder is a cure for that in their case, 63 species have been wiped out thanks to bored cats. (RIP island birds in general) Remember folks, if your cat doesn’t have a job outdoors like a mouser or what is happening with these fluffies, keep them indoors!
Doppler eyed a white pegasus colt with a red mane-stubble making a run for the forest. The other two talkie-survivors had run to try and hide. You knew one was under the deck, the other didn’t matter. If Doppler got bored later there’s not much a fluffy can do to stop a cat from absolutely eviscerating them.
“EEEEEEE WUN FROM MUNSTA-DADEH AN’ KITTEH-MUNSTA”, the colt called out. Those screams are so fucking annoying.
You put the 5 foals you saved into one of the buckets where they hugged each other, desperate for affection and warmth after being on the brink of death. Doppler was now chasing after the fleeing colt, catching up easily and putting his claws to good use on the wings of the colt.
“Screeeeeeeee! Nu wike bad nu-hoofsies! Wuv wingies nu take wingies! Babbeh nee’ wingies!”
Doppler extended his claws and dug into the wings, one in each paw. He shook the wings vigorously until they came off the colt, leaving blood and viscera behind.
“Nuuuuuuuuhuuuuhuuuu…huuu… nu wike”
The poor foal had no time to rest as Doppler started biting and clawing the legs of the colt.
“Weggies nuuuuuuuu! Weggies hab biggest owIEEEEEEEEEES”
Doppler then stretched his neck around the foal and bit hard on the upper back dead center, the spine. The fluffy’s legs stopped moving, dangling uselessly to his side as Doppler continued his assault.
“Weggies nu! chirp Cum back weggies huuuu… chirp nu can feew weggies… why huwt babbeh, am gud babbeh huuuhuuuu”
Doppler’s response was to slash the fluffy’s side, leaving a deep wound. After that swipe, Doppler went under the deck for more fun. He had noticed just like you did that at least one of the talkers was hiding there. You couldn’t see what happened but you heard it.
“Pwease kitteh-munsta, am gud babbeh. Gud babbeh am fo’ huggies and wuv. Miwkies too! Am gud babbeh, nu huwt babbeh!”
“EEEEEEEEE, tummeh-sketties gu back in babbeh, don’ weave tummeh-sketties!”
“kaff**hurk why… huwt…babbeh…huu chirp huu chirp peeeeeeeeeeeeeeep”
Doppler returned, his fur stained red with fluffy blood. He began using the water from the kiddie-pool to help clean himself. No one likes the taste of fluffy blood no doubt mixed with feces. Wherever the last talker was it didn’t matter that much, right now the ferals have to be dealt with. Your herd was at the far side of the yard. The older fluffies covering the eyes of the young ones and the older fluffs averting their eyes. They didn’t need to see what you were going to do. You approached the ferals, crying about the loss of their many foals. They had managed to save a few foals, four to be exact. They were nestled in the fluffs of two different mares, the mares constantly comforting the foals with their mummy-songs. The smarty stood defiantly in front of you, cheeks fully puffed and hooves apart.
“Yu gib smawty’s babbehs foweba sweepies. Smawty gib ou’ sowwiest hoovsies an’ sowwiest poopies. Yu gib smawty moa babbehs ou’ get foweba sweepies!”
The question remains, should you be merciful and kill them quickly, or relieve more stress and really get sadistic?
This question got its answer only seconds later.
The smarty turned around and attempted to spray you with shit. You avoided most of the torrent, but some got on your jeans and sneakers. Now you were pissed, before you just thought this smarty was messed up, now he made it personal.
You grabbed him by the scruff
“Bad upsies! Nu wike meanie-upsies, put smawty down nao!”
You responded by slamming his body into the ground. This was accompanied by screams from the smarty. You didn’t like the sounds so you kept slamming him into the ground again and again until he fell silent. You threw his body at the remaing 8 ferals who tried to hug the smarty back to health. He was too far gone obviously, his jaw was gone and his brain was hemorrhaging badly. Huuhuuing filled the yard as the ferals mourned the loss of their smarty. They didn’t even notice you walking up next to them brandishing your knife.