Posh rushed down the alleyway as fast as her little hooves could carry her. Hooves skittering on a patch of grease that a Chinese restaurant had dumped out onto the paving stones outside, she pitched to the ground and went rolling with a whimper. She was a purple and orange runaway. Had wanted babbehs and gotten them, too, though the munstah had give them the wowstest huwties possible.
“Pwease wingies. Pwease hewp Posh!” The mare begged her useless little wing as it buzzed frantically. Just the one because the munstah had torn the other right off her back and left it a stump drooling out blood. Getting up, she helplessly rattled her hooves against a fence which effectively made this alley a dead-end. Squishing her face up against the steel links, she called out for anyone to help. Of course, nobody would. A fluffy begging for help was a common thing in this world and rarely was it ever met with aid.
Urine trickled down to the ground as Posh found a looming shadow slide up over the alley. Teeth chittering, heart gripped with absolutely terror, she slowly turned to face the munstah which had been loosed upon her.
This munstah was unlike anything she’d ever seen before yet all too familiar at once. She was pretty sure that it was supposed to be a fluffy like her, though his fluff was dark black. Rich red tail and mane. Eyes which were bright green and reflected the light like a cat’s. A cape was looped around his neck and fluttered with each step toward her. Like her, he had wings. His were brown and leathery though, not feathery and fun like her own.
Sniffling, Posh did the only thing she COULD do in this situation: Get up on her hind-legs and try to do a happy little jig back and fourth. “D-dancies? Dancies ‘fo munstah? Pwease nu huwties!” She begged him.
Rushing forward with a rapid tapping of hooves, the munstah revealed his teeth. Normal except for two which were slightly curved, bold, incredibly scary. Being taken to the ground, Posh screeched horribly. It soon turned to nothing but sloppy gurgling as the fangs found their way to her throat and tore away so that her attacker could lap at the blood which came out.
++++
Vlad was very old now. Most of his jet-black fur had gone a wispy silver, the luscious reds having gone to an ugly rusty brown. Catlike eyes which had once lit up in the darkness now clouded over with cataracts that made everything around him an obscured milky blur.
Right now he was up on the couch with mummah, curled up against her lap. Though the television was on, he could hard see it of course. Just abstract shapes moving in the mist of his vision.
“That’s you!” His owner, Holly, exclaimed. A woman in her late twenties that the stallion had known for all his life and loved very dearly.
Tilting his head on her lap, he agreed: “Yis”
Though he didn’t know what was currently playing. It was a shock video that had been one of many which had made Holly not incredibly wealthy but well-off enough. The Internet had loved Vlad’s murderous exploits over the years. Not quite as much as the twisted romps of a true superstar of the industry (a fluffy simply named ‘Angel’ had been the prince of that) but enough so Holly didn’t have to work.
Time had gone on so much that Vlad was practically unknown by this point. In fact, even the fluffy would largely forget what he’d done. Countless of his kin torn open, viciousness honed to a point largely unseen in fluffies.
Shifting to flop over on his back, Vlad exposed his tummy. Holly reached down, scritched along the soft fur. Gently twitching his hooves, he drifted off to sleep and drooled on her lap.
++++
When Vlad awoke, he was in a new place. Set down in front of his food bowl. Standing up weakly, he stepped up to eat and gave a snuffling breath to take in the smell. Coppery, fresh, a familiar thing.
It was fluffy meat which had been pulverized to a fine mush. This was needed because his regal fangs and the rest of his chompers had fallen out awhile back. Shoving his face down into the grim meal, he gobbled up the paste hungrily and with such force that specks of it fanned out onto the floor.
“Messy boy.” Holly told him warmly, gathering the old man up in her arms and wiping along his face with a wet wipe after he’d cleaned the bowl out. Vlad attempted to feebly get her to stop rubbing at his face but gave up quickly after, making small ‘smeck’ sounds with his lips and snugging up on the woman.
“Vwad wub mummah.” He told her warmly, the hug being reciprocated with gentle care. Of course, his joints were always inflamed now and bothered him greatly. That in mind, Holly brought her beloved creature of the night over to a litterbox and placed him down into it. Wobbling on his hooves, Vlad piddled onto the dusty material and stood there with a rather dim expression.
“No poopies?” Mummah asked him. Vlad gave a tilt of his head, looked back to his ass, gave a shake ‘no’.
Well. She knew he might have an accident later if he didn’t go now but honestly, she wasn’t going to press him on the issue. Lifting him up from the litter, she brought him out to the living room once more and placed him down on the carpet.
Smiling happily, Holly brought out of a toy and waggled it in front of his face. It was actually a dog toy, but she’d though it was perfect for her boy. The toy was fluffy shaped and made of a durable yet soft cloth material. What made it special was the fact that the limbs were attached to the main body with Velcro straps and could tear off when pulled on.
“Get him, Vlad! Sic ‘em!” That’s what mummah said and so with a sheepish expression, Vlad shakily stepped forward to clamp his gums down on one of the fluffy’s weggies. Dug his hooves down into the carpet, gently tried to tug back. Velcro budged slightly but it took Holly easing it off the body for it to snap off completely.
Vlad looked up to his mummah with a proud expression, tail wagging out feebly behind him. She praised him which even got him to flutter his leathery bat wings happily. Quite a rare occurrence these days because moving them hurt.
Just that slight amount of activity had already tired him out. “Sweepy, mummah.” He murmured, buckling down slightly and lurching against the ground. Lifting him, Holly brought the stallion off to his safe room.
The elderly fluff’s safe room had largely gone unchanged over the years. It was moody, black, lit up with candelabras where electronic candles guttered and threw off looming shadows against the walls. Windows had purple curtains drawn over them to block out the sunlight and his bed happened to be a coffin perfectly sized just for him. Lined with plush velvet with a comfortable pillow at the head. Laying Vlad down into his coffin, Holly sighed and looked out across the walls.
She’d turned promotional art for his shock videos into full-sized posters. One where her bat fluff was depicted as a menacing shadow looming over a herd of terrified fluffies, another where an incredibly stylized version of him was slinking next to a basket of newborn chirpies.
“You’re no Angel but you’re better. He was all ferocity but you had style, buddy.” Holly told the elderly fluffy. Though he was mostly asleep by now, he’d stir slightly in his coffin at the sound of her voice.
Vlad truly did love her. Though he couldn’t remember what he had done in those videos she was so proud of, he had done it for her. His natural disposition hadn’t been for violence or giving huwties. In fact, he’d just been nothing more than a Halloween promotion for Fluffmart. Vampire fluffs! They acted just like regular fluffies but had neat little fangs. Most of the bat fluffies he’d once shared a home with back at Fluffmart were now dead though. Even considering the advanced age he found himself in, nobody wanted a Halloween decoration hanging around in their lives year round. Most of the vampire fluffies had been thrown into the trash after the holidays or left to wander the streets.
“Mummah?” He asked curiously, wondering what she was still doing in his safe room. Holly turned from a collection of stuff related to him: His cape hanging up neatly on a hook, those famous fangs which had fallen out long ago and were now enshrined in a shadow box on the wall.
“Yes, Vlad?” She asked him, though he’d drifted right back to sleep. Snoring against the white-lace fringed pillow at his head. Holly reached down and smoothed her fingers against his ears.
He might have lost his pep and the whole world might have forgotten him by now but he’d always be her little monster.