It’s a beautiful sunny winter morning. I wake up from bed, eat cold pizza for breakfast, drink a glass of water, put on my winter layers and step outside onto my porch about to go on a walk.
It’s very cold outside, below freezing, and in my driveway I notice that the puddle that usually pools there is covered with a thin sheet of ice. I am filled with child-like excitement at the fact that ice formed over the puddle, because I’m autistic and I have an obsession with frozen-over ponds and lakes.
I remember the stone I have placed underneath the pine tree in my yard. I think about how fun it would be to throw it into the frozen puddle to break the ice. Quickly, I head to the tree, pick up the rock, and with all my strength I spike it into the frozen puddle. A loud shattering / sloshing sound is generated from the impact, and I just barely avoid soaking my shoes in ice water. I make a mental note to be more careful next time I get an opportunity like this, because I despise wet socks. As I think about where I want to head to on my morning walk, I hear something. It sounds like a child faking a sob.
God, that sound is infuriating. I immediately recognize the source of where the sound is coming from. In between the recycling bin and the garbage can, I had compressed some cardboard boxes down into flat sheets and stored them there due to the fact that my recycling bin was full and I couldn’t fit anything else into it. Sandwiched in between several thick sheets of cardboard and the two waste cans was the source of the babble. It was a pastel red fluffy with a purple mane. Female. Covered from head to toe in ice. Oh god, did I do that? It looks like she got stuck in between the cardboard when she was trying to find shelter, and when I slammed the rock into the ice I splashed her with water and froze her little body to the cardboard. That looks awful, I almost feel bad for the little fucker. Her vocalizations were making that a lot harder for me to feel, though.
“Huuu-huuu-huuuu… pwease mista… help me get warmzies and cuddles… so cowd…”
She is completely helpless. Maybe if I was a little more gullible I would actually take her inside and clean her up. Maybe I would even take her in as a pet if I was feeling extra stupid. However, the last time I tried both of those things I ended up with epic diarrhea dumps all over my computer and furniture. I don’t understand how something that small can generate so much shit by itself, it just doesn’t make any sense. The day that fluffies and other “bio-toy” freaks of reality get wiped off the face of the earth and driven to extinction will be the day I throw a fucking party and laugh. With one helpless bio-freak in front of me, I will soon bring the earth one step closer to this.
“OK. I’ll help you.”
I take my gloved hand out of my pocket and pick up the piece of cardboard that she is helplessly iced to.
“Thawk you mistwa! New Daddeh?”.
I laugh at loud. I think about what I will do with her. What kind of medieval, convoluted SAW trap I will build for this little freak. After holding the cardboard scrap with the fluffy still frozen to it for a few seconds, I come up with an idea. It’s the creative and original concept of “Bashing it into the floor until every bone in it’s body is busted”. That will definitely work. I’ll be sure to prolong it for as long as possible, though. Can’t have her dying on me anticlimactically or something. That would be lame.
“Hey dude, we’re going on an adventure real quick. Wanna come along?”
“Yes pwease! I wuvs adventus wit new daddeh!”
Swiftly, I pick up the cardboard with the fluffy frozen to it. I walk onto my favorite trail in the woods, now holding the doomed fluffy in my hands to thaw the ice. By the time I reach the spot that I was envisioning inside of my head, the fluffy has been de-thawed from the cardboard due to me holding it for the duration of my walk.
“Well little buddy, I feel like it’s about time to give you a name. How about ‘Slag’”?
“I wub new nae! Sag will be bestest fluffy for daddeh!”
Heh, “Sag”. I almost like that name more, but Slag is more offensive so she’ll be named Slag for the remaining probably 20 minutes of her life. I have stopped at a point next to a large boulder covered in moss. Nearby there is a deep hole I have dug for the sole purpose of harvesting ice, the reasoning for which will soon become apparent.
“Hey Slag, I want to play a game with you!”.
“I wub you daddeh! I wub gaes! Wat gae we pwayin?”.
“It’s called ‘Think Fast’”.
Before Slag has any time at all to respond to me, I swiftly pick her up. Then, with immense force, I spike her body directly onto the deep pool of water, which is currently covered in a thick layer of ice. CRACK. As she impacts the ice, her body somehow manages to make the ice deform and crack slightly. The cracking sound didn’t come from that, though. It came from her spine and her ribs shattering on impact.
LOUD. LOUD fucking screech. Holy shit that was so loud. This is why I went a few miles deep into the woods to do this. Torture of Fluffies may be legal but it’s still quite taboo. And I don’t want to get cancelled. I pick her little body up to inspect the damage I proudly did to her. Her waist is now distorted into a 90 degree angle. Her muzzle is completely deformed as well, and it is bleeding profusely. Due to Slag’s constant unending agonized screeching I could see deep into her mouth, and I could see that some of her teeth had been shattered. Not knocked out, shattered, and I could see blood coming up from inside her esophagus as well. Massive organ trauma definitely occurred. Fuck, did I throw her too hard? Is she gonna die on me? Before I could determine how much time I had left, she ceased her wailing. She’s now reduced to a slobbering, snotty, sobby mess. Her eyes and nose are caked in frozen tears and snot. One of her eyes isn’t closing - it has been frozen open by the cold. That eye is blind now. I wonder if it could feel pain? I decide to find out by flicking my thumb hard into her frozen open eye, and it immediately closed shut. I just drew blood from the white of her eye. Oh my fucking god the yelling. It’s even louder now. I’ve never had a shitrat scream this loud on me. The blood pouring from her eye and her nose has frozen into red ice from the sub zero temperatures. With both hands, I pick her up with my hands wrapped around her waist, both thumbs placed on the stomach. I Squeeze hard.
Blood squirts out of her mouth onto my winter coat. As I’m having my fun, I fail to notice the turd falling out of her ass. I feel something hit my shoes, and I look down. The little fucker just shat on my shoes. My nice hiking boots.
“These were 300 dollars at REI, you piece of shit!”, I scream, loud, directly into her ear.
In all honesty, the boots I’m wearing are designed to handle much worse than having poop fall on top of them, but I need any excuse I can get to prolong her suffering. I lightly toss her onto the cold forest floor, making sure before hand that there are no wild animals around that are gonna snatch my kill from me. I stomp on the frozen puddle with my crappy shoe to get the turd off, and I shatter the ice. This leaves a layer of sharp, broken ice shards floating on the brown murky water. Perfect. Before the water freezes over again, I pick Slag up, and I dunk her battered body into the dirty cold water. I am sure to hold her there for at least 10 seconds so that some water gets in her lungs without drowning her. When I take her out of the water, the water has been tinted from coffee-brown to brown-red, likely from Slag screaming underwater. Slag is once again soaked to the bone, and I could see in real time her coat freezing from the extreme winter cold. Before long she is completely immobile, trapped in a thin sheet of ice all around her body. She won’t be for long. I pick her frozen body up by her tail, her body slightly bending downwards when I pick her up by the tail due to the weight of her body. I walk over to the mossy boulder, and with all of my strength, I slam her body at full fucking force into the side of the rock.
Her tail snaps clean off before she makes contact with the rock, and she is sent flying. There is blood fucking everywhere, and I hope I didn’t sever an artery as I run towards Slag’s landing sight. Surprisingly, the ice had been broken from the impact. She was no longer screaming, only breathing heavily from the trauma. I realize that since the abuse started that she has not said a word to me, other than the screaming.
“You really thought I was going to help you, huh, cunt? Now look at you”.
“w…wan d-die…wan die…wan die…so cowd… worstest owwies…”
Nothing of note. Well, what was I expecting, anyways? Fluffies don’t have individual personalities, they’re all pre-programmed. They are, quite literally, all the same in everything accept for appearance.
From the frozen puddle, I pick up the sharpest shard of ice that I could find. I walk over to the half-dead fluffy, still breathing and so eloquently vocalizing her wish for death. I pick up her body by her fluff with my left hand. Small drops of blood drip from her coat, which is surprising considering how cold it is outside. She has to be bleeding profusely for that to happen right now. I then take my right hand, ice shard in hand, and stab into her face with it. Well, I try to anyways, because my first stab missed. My second stab got her directly in her one good eye though, but her scream wasn’t as impressive as the last few times I’ve injured her. I then hold her jaw open with my left thumb, and jam the sharp ice blade directly into her mouth. I make contact with her cheek, and the ice actually manages to penetrate her cheek and exit out the side of her face. I do this again and again until her cheeks are completely destroyed and that I could see her broken teeth without her opening her mouth. She has been in a wan die loop for at least two minutes at this point, and I want to make it last longer. I drop her onto the ground, and very carefully, I place pressure from my heel onto her muzzle. My goal is to shatter all of the teeth in her mouth.
Fuck. I pressed too hard. The entire lower half of her muzzle is completely flattened. She definitely doesn’t have very much time left. I pick up her destroyed body and throw her like a baseball into the boulder. She actually manages to hit it this time, and she leaves a bloody splatter on the stone. I pick her up again and this time I throw her into the boulder at closer range. Head first.
Skull shattered for sure. By this point she isn’t even fighting my advances, she just sits there and breathes. Somehow, Slag was still alive, albeit barely. Her only sign of life is slight twitching in her shattered limbs and her chest moving up and down. I pick her up with both hands and hold her above my head, and spike her into the ground. Then I kick her with my hiking boots. She goes flying maybe 40 feet forward and collides with a tree, ass-first. I pick up a rock and run towards Slag’s barely alive body.
I pick her up with my left hand, by her neck.
“Any last words, faggot?”
Before she has time to finish I spike her into the ground, and her internal organs expel out of both her mouth and her asshole. Her eyes are bloodshot red and are wide open, but they aren’t blinking. Suddenly, she starts making noise again. Weak, terrible squeaks, but noise. She’s in agony.
I take the rock I gathered, and spike it onto Slag’s ruined body. Her already avulsed organs are now several inches away from her flattened body in both directions. One of her eyes has popped out of the socket. I stomp on her skull to make sure she’s dead. Stomp, Stomp, Stomp. I stomp until I am physically exhausted.
I’m upset that she didn’t survive longer. Even though I had acted out everything I had planned for her I wanted to do them at least a few dozen times each before she succumbed to her injuries. I look onto the result of my abuse. The corpse is unrecognizable as a fluffy, her once bright vibrant fur has been rendered muddy brown by the repeated batterings. Her skull resembles a shattered porcelain dinner plate and her entire lower body has been reduced to something resembling low grade dog food, tainted brown from being buried into the earth but still having recognizable chunks and giblets.
As I clean myself up, I imagine a world where fluffies really do go extinct. A small part of me wishes it never happens - because today was one of the best I’ve had in a long time.