Bingo had sat in the middle of the trashpiles for who knew how long. The herd of stallions which had been hunting him had long given up trying to find the ‘new toy’ to break, and the microfluffies which had stuck to him like briars had dispersed as well. Exhausted by the situation he had brought into, the tears which had been shed, and the blood drain he’d eventually drift off to sleep.
He dreamt about being a talkie baby. It was hard to remember his real mummah when it was bright times but he remembered her during dreams.
“Mummah goin’ ta skettiland.” She had told her remaining foals proudly. This was in the big store place. Many people came in every day to look at them and some of his brothers and sisters had gone to new home. They had heard lots about skettiland! Some of the lucky fluffies got to go there. If you didn’t get a new home, you went to skettiland where you got to eat all sorts of good nummies. All you wanted! There were lots of fun toys to play with, there was no sorry-stick, and no mean things. The stallion had this dreams many time and it was a good one but this time it was different. He could never remember who had picked up his mummah originally, but the fog had been replaced with something else. His new mummah. The doughy human had the mare pinned up against her arms like she’d had him before. “Goin’ ta skettiland! Bye babbehs! Mummah wuv yew!” She sing-songed out to them, and he wanted to tell her not to. Don’t go! But…
Something was shaking at him. Bingo woke up with a startled noise, flailing his limbs out. Eyes adjusting to the poor light and the sleepies, he was able to make out a small mare. Bright yellow fur which had been streaked through with filth, a blue mane which was knotted up due to neglect. The mare nudged him with a hoof.
“Nu talkies, big bwuddah.” The mare told him, shivering slightly. “Dancie Babbehs on.”
Bingo didn’t talk. The shiver was enough to tell him maybe the herd of smarties had come back and would find him this time. And big bwuddah? He didn’t know her. Confused, he would just keep quiet as the much smaller mare pressed to his side as if to find some sort of protection.
By now the room had grown much darker. Whatever light had been shed through the trashbags on the windows had given way to nearly pure darkness cut through only from the shit-encrusted television which sat at the front of the room. It was stuck on FluffTV 24/7, and those who had been here the longest knew the programming largely by heart. You had to know as a matter of survival.
Bingo watched the dancie babbehs on screen, parading around and happily babbling to themselves. He didn’t have much interest…this was a show for chirpies or soon-mummahs! After awhile, he noticed something. The room was largely quiet. Except for the television, even the incessant doomed chorus of the shit-mountain poopies had ceased. There was movement however. Something shifted through the trash piles. Old soda cans, chip bags, and carcasses of stuffed animals rippled as something passed sleekly underneath it like a worm through sand. Eventually the tunneling stopped, a crinkle of aluminum being heard as whatever it was slithered out.
It was not something which Bingo’s tiny brain could comprehend. The thing was crudely shaped like a fluffy though everything was wrong. The monster had no fur. At that, it didn’t even seem to have skin. It’s skin was jellylike, showing a twisting of bone and translucent organs within. It’s limbs twisted and splayed, a mockery of movement when it was outside of it’s trash tunnel refuge. Pale bulbous eyes which could no more see than they could shoot laserbeams .The eyes hovered as it drew it’s head up, a hoarse whistling coming from it’s mouth.
The worst part, however, had to be it’s brothers and sisters. They existed as vestigial parasitic appendages all along it’s body. Smaller than even a chirpy but easily distinguished as once in development as a fluffy. There were perhaps five in all, each beginning to peep and chirp as the abomination took to it’s belly and slithered across the floor. The slithering left a thick trail of mucus that aided it in surfing through the hoard.
“Munstah…munstah…” Bingo whimpered, and the mare at his side gave him hoofs to the side. The tiny amount of noise had caused the creature to twist in their direction, though something else caught it’s attention in a far more noticeable way.
“Babbehs? Mummahs babbehs? Haf milkies for gud babbehs!” Cried a mare. She had lost her foals days previously, but the chirps had ignited the motherly instinct within her. “Gud babbehs…milkies for gud babbehs…” She cooed out as the creeping monstrosity neared her. The cheeps and peeps had gotten another one to cry out hopefully. Slipping into the nearest pile next to the mare, the creature would pop out moments later next to the dam. Sinking needle-like teeth into one of her hind legs, it would rip her out from the makeshift nest she’d been left to rot in while waiting for her foals to come back. There was a terrible ‘REEEEEEEEEE!’, a moment of slamming about, and then nothing more for a minute or so. The chirps and peeps had resumed after time had passed, though there was a difference this time: They were much more cheerful in tone.
After awhile dancie babbehs had gone off the television. The mare at his side finally spoke up: “Upsie house munstah. Su scawwy.” She said, still trembling a bit. He didn’t want to talk yet. What if it came back? What if it ate him too?
“Munstah gone.” The mare said, breaking away from his side finally and nosing into the trash tunnel they were currently in. “Wan gud nummies wif Meawwow, bwuddah?”