Where Fluffy Bodies Lie
By @Za
Chapter Five:
Lop
You are Neil Hall.
You’ve spent a lot of time in these woods. Hunting, drinking beer, spending time with your friends. And now, Shaw was dead. What initially seemed like an accident was starting to seem like a murder. But how could a fluffy murder a human?
“So, Neil,” Jeremiah piped up from the back of the truck. “You really think they’re still in the same spot as before?”
Jack chuckled from beside you. He blew a puff of smoke from his cigarette, turning to call to Jeremiah out the window.
“You think they’re smart enough to move? They’re dumb as rocks,” Jack scoffed. You turned to glare at him.
“That’s the problem with y’all,” you muttered, flipping on your brights as you drove deeper into the forest. “Yer still just treatin’ em like animals. These little bastards are almost people-smart. Underestimatin’ em is what done Shaw in. I ain’t makin’ the same mistake.”
The rest of the ride continued in silence, until you came to a halt before a thin tree. Nails stuck haphazardly out of the bark, shining under the bright lights of your truck’s headlights.
“This is close enough,” you said, hopping out of your truck. You grabbed your shotgun from the bed of the truck, helping Jeremiah down before turning to go down the path. “We’ll walk from here, like last time.”
The night air felt eerily still around you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of someone watching you. The cool breeze against your skin brought you back, though. Back to when you were a kid and you’d play in these woods. It brought you back to the hunting trips with your father.
“You sure we went the right direction?” Jeremiah asked in a small whisper, fiddling with a small flashlight that seemed to be out of batteries.
“What’re ya whispering for?” you spat, annoyed. “They’d have heard the truck before they heard us.” You reached out to yank the flashlight away from Jeremiah, tossing it back into the bed of the truck. He shot you an annoyed, almost hurt glance. Jack flicked on a small flashlight mounted to his carbine, scanning the brush.
“And yeah I’m sure, I recognize that tree. Look at all them nails. That was Shaw’s crucifying tree.”
Your ears perked up, turning to face the tree. You could’ve sworn you heard something, almost a microscopic twitch.
And you were right.
A small breath hitched, choking on tears.
Jack’s light glazed over the bush next to the tree, revealing the unmistakable glow of two eyes staring back at you. They looked almost human.
It was a fluffy, for sure. You could use this.
As Jack took aim, you put your hand up.
“Hey, fluffy,” you began, “get out here or we’re gonna kill ya.”
Without any hesitation, a brown earthie emerged from the bush. It was trembling and the fluff around its eyes was stained with tears. This fluffy was familiar to you.
“Yeah, you’re the one,” you spoke, approaching the fluffy slowly. “I recognize you.” The fluffy’s eyes met yours and it swallowed hard. “You were at the clearing.”
Jack chimed in. “Remember, it was playing possum when we got the smarty’s kid down from the tree too.” You hummed, nodding. You did seem to remember that. Shaw really wanted to make a slipper out of that foal, but it turned out to be slightly too small.
The fluffy nodded, speaking with a shaky voice. “Dat wite. Fwuffy’s name am Smawty Stwong Bwanch.”
The smarty, huh? Makes sense that this one would take up the mantle.
“Neil,” you answered. You gestured slightly to your friends. “That’s Jack and Jeremiah.” Jeremiah gave a small wave, though Jack kept his gun trained on the fluffy.
“You killed Shaw, didn’t ya Strong Branch?”
You looked the fluffy up and down. It had a few scars, some of which you thought you might have put there at the clearing. It wasn’t anything special. Just a shit-color. The fluffy spoke again.
“Dat wite. Stwong Bwanch gib Shaw fowebah sweepies. Buh Shaw do dat to Stwong Bwanch mummah, an daddeh, and hewd fiwst.”
You felt your face burning red as you stared the fluffy down. How could it even make a comparison like that? Shaw was not a fluffy. His life meant something.
“Don’t think that makes us even, ya little rat. Don’t think even fer a second that even a million of y’all’s lives can make up for what happened to Shaw.”
Taking shallow breaths, you raised your shotgun and thrust it to the fluffy’s head. “He was our friend, he was a real person. Y’all are just animals. Yer lives don’t mean nothing.”
The fluffy’s eyes shrunk to pinpoints as it seemed to look around for something. Annoyed, you shoved it backwards slightly with the barrel of your weapon.
“Buh, buh, fwuffies an hoomans am kinda da samesies. Hoomans hab fwens and mummahs an daddehs, wite? An hoomans wub dem? Fwuffies wub mummahs an daddehs an fwens too. Stwong Bwanch hab babbeh, an Stwong Bwanch wub babbeh.”
The way this creature spoke to you made you fucking sick. It was so goddamn dumb, it thought it was a person. And the worst part was that it was too goddamn dumb to know the difference, so you couldn’t even prove it wrong.
“Shut your goddamn mouth, you wouldn’t get it. We ain’t nowhere near the same. Now, if you tell us where the rest of your little herd is, we just might let you live.”
“Stwong Bwanch hewd am fowebah sweepies,” the fluffy asserted with a certain bravado. “Dummeh hoomans gib dem fowebah sweepies, membah?”
You smirked down at the fluffy. How pathetic that it thought it could trick you. “Nice try, but I know it was you who broke into them cages.” You lifted your hand to do a little lockpicking gesture. “You let them all out, didn’t ya? Tell me where they are.”
The fluffy puffed its cheeks out. “Stwong Bwanch nu teww hoomans nuffin. Gu way!”
You shrugged, offering a chuckle as your finger prepared to pull the trigger. “Suit yourself, then.”
“Now, hold on Neil,” Jeremiah spoke up. You turned your head to face him, keeping your gun firmly against the fluffy’s head. Something in his eyes didn’t sit right with you.
“He has a point. He’s got loved ones just like we do. It hurt us to lose Shaw, now what good is killing more of them going to do?”
The older man looked at you expectantly, waiting for an answer to that dumbass question.
“Jeremiah, don’t tell me yer really fixing to let it go after what it did to Shaw?” you asked plainly.
“It ain’t gonna bring him back, Neil.”
“Don’t ya think he’d want it dead?” you growled, pushing the barrel of the shotgun right into the fluffy’s snout.
Jeremiah simply sighed. “It’s like you said back at the cabin. I don’t think he’s gonna mind one way or the other.” He turned, walking back the way you came. “I ain’t doing this no more. I’ll walk back to town.”
Jeremiah disappeared slowly into the distance, his footsteps the only sound echoing through the now-silent woods. Well, aside from your heart in your ears. You felt yourself shaking, your teeth gritting, your body begging to kill this fluffy and be done with it.
“GO ON THEN, IF YOU’RE SCARED! EVER SINCE SEETHER DIED YOU AIN’T BEEN NOTHING BUT A LITTLE PUSSY!”
You turned back to the fluffy, who was now staring back at you with a blank expression.
“Nu. Neiw am scawedies. Jewemiah am nice mistah. Good mistah.” The fluffy grinned ear-to-ear. “But Neiw am scawedies. Neiw nee boom-boom sowwy stick to huwt Stwong Bwanch. Shaw was scawedies too.”
…
“What the fuck did you say?”
“Shaw went fowebah sweepies wike… a widdwe pussy.”
You threw your gun aside and lurched forward to tackle the fluffy. It squealed, kicking its back legs into your stomach as it flailed to get free. With your free hand, you began to slam punch after punch into its muzzle. Shards of teeth and splatters of blood coated the ground beneath you as your knuckles were cut and bruised by the gnashing of the fluffy’s teeth.
“SCREEEEEEEE! REEEEEEEEEEEEE! WET FWUFFY GO!” it cried helplessly, sputtering a mixture of saliva and blood. You hit it again.
“HOW FUCKIN’ DARE YOU SAY THAT ABOUT SHAW!”
You reached over to grab a handful of nails before swinging again. The sharp nails slashed at the fluffy’s skin, some sticking in as you punched and plunged them into its chest.
“YOU! FUCKING! BASTARD! DIE!”
You grabbed the fluffy by its neck, lifting it as you stood. You slammed it into the tree, causing it to shriek in agony once more.
SLAM! SLAM!
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEE!”
You raised the fluffy above your head, bringing its spine down onto your knee with a sickening crunch. The fluffy slipped from your bloodied grasp, tumbling to the ground before fighting in vain to run from your onslaught.
“Weggies pwease wowk! Weggies pwease wowk! WAI WEGGIES NU WOWK?” it begged, crawling along slowly to no avail. Its back legs were paralyzed. You stepped forward, slamming your heel down on its front left leg as it crawled. It cried out in pain, trying to roll away from you. You began to crush its leg, twisting your heel. The sound of screams, tearing flesh, and cracking bones filled the air on an otherwise silent night.
You raised your foot, kicking the fluffy in the side. It tumbled onto its side, vomiting onto the ground. You liked it better like this. You stooped down, staring into its eyes.
“Not so tough now, are ya Strong Branch? You sorry for what you did to Shaw now? Huh, ya little shit?”
The fluffy did not speak, nor react. Its eyes didn’t even move to meet yours.
“Where’s yer herd, ya little shit?” you asked to break the silence. And yet, it did not reply again. You groaned, walking back to grab your shotgun.
“This ain’t going nowhere. I’m just gonna kill it.”
As you turned to walk back to the fluffy, it shifted slightly to look at you.
“Stwong Bwanch… wish…” it spoke, stopping to vomit slightly. After catching its breath, it continued. “Wish Shaw went fowebah sweepies wike dis.”
And so you threw your shotgun down again, storming over to the fluffy.
“YOU WATCH YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH!” you shouted, grabbing the fluffy by the back legs and carrying it towards the truck. “AS A MATTER OF FACT, I’M GONNA LET YOU WATCH IT GET RIPPED OFF!”
As you approached the truck, you hoisted the fluffy over your head before swinging it back down against the bed wall of your truck. Its skull cracked against the metal of the vehicle with a loud boom. Several more teeth flew out, and blood splattered wildly. Despite this, the fluffy continued to breathe as it twitched on the ground. It was, however, still. You grabbed it by the back of its head and forced it to stare into your eyes.
You turned to Jack, who was standing behind you still brandishing his carbine. You threw him your keys.
“Get in the truck and give it a spin when I tell ya to,” you directed. Jack examined you for a minute before a shocked look of realization. He climbed into the driver’s seat and the truck roared to life. Your gaze returned to the fluffy’s eyes, which were bloodshot and practically pinpoints.
“You said you were a dad, right?” you asked, grinning. “Don’t worry, yer gonna see that kid of yours real soon. It’s gonna die next.”
The fluffy broke down. Tears burst from its eyes, snot ran from its nose, and it spat a gurgling sob.
“HUUHUUUHUUUUUUHUUUUUU!”
You tapped your hand against the truck, and the engine screamed. The tire began to spin, and you shoved the side of the fluffy’s face right into the rubber. First, its eye was mangled and melted from the friction and heat. What few front teeth it had were crushed and thrown around wildly, many with the roots still wedged in its torn and bloodied gums. The fluff and leathery flesh of its now-disfigured face was ripped off in disgusting ribbons of muscle. The sickening, gurgling crying sound only grew louder.
You pushed its face harder against the tire, and then harder still. More blood and muscle were torn from the fluffy’s skull, eventually pulling enough for you to see the skull, and in some places the brain. Yet it wasn’t enough. You pushed harder and harder, until the tire snagged something just right and ripped about half of the fluffy’s face off. You banged on the side of the truck again, and the tires stopped.
You threw the fluffy aside, standing. Jack stepped out of the truck, closing the door back behind him.
“Uh… holy shit, man,” was all he said. He looked up and down at you, his eyes sunken with fear.
You breathed a heavy sigh. “I’m gonna go get my gun.”
A short walk later and you were reunited with your beloved shotgun. You slung it over your shoulder and began your walk back to the truck. As you passed by the fluffy’s body, you felt something wasn’t right.
You aimed your shotgun.
BANG! Chk-chk. BANG! Chk-chk. BANG!
“Jesus!” Jack cried, jumping back.
Chk-chk. BANG! Chk-chk. BANG!
“Okay, you got him!”
Chk-chk. BANG! Chk-chk. BANG! Chk-chk.
“Okay, okay, Neil, okay! Fuck!”
BANG! Chk-chk. Click. Chk-chk. Click. Chk-chk. Click.
You fell to your knees, throwing up. Jack came behind you to help you up.
“Alright, holy shit. Let’s go home. I’ll drive, you’re fucked up.”
You nodded, shaking and coughing as he helped you into the passenger seat.
“…shit. Son of a bitch.”
He sighed, turning to you as you drove back towards town. The once calming scenery of the night forest only inspired fear and resentment in you now.
“Okay, man. It’s done. Jesus. Let’s get back to town. It’s almost midnight and I got work tomorrow.”
You nodded. “Yeah, alright. We can come back and finish the herd later.”
Jack turned to you with a grimace. “You think you need to? They’ll die without a smarty.” He cleared his throat, turning away. “And uh… besides, I don’t think that was healthy for you at all.”
“But I have to make sure!” you pleaded, your voice growing louder. “Never assume they’re dead until you see it yourself. That’s what happened to-”
“Shaw,” he interrupted, “I know.”
What followed was an uncomfortable few minutes of silence, which you eventually broke.
“Hey… ya still coming over this Friday?” I asked, trying to smile. You imagine you looked like a pitiful mess, though, covered in blood and puke. “Wife and I are smoking a brisket.”
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Jack said. You hummed affirmatively.
“What do we do about Jeremiah?”
Jack looked at you quizzically. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t think he’s got it in him no more,” you explained frankly. “He just walked off on us after sympathizing with that fluffy.”
“We’ll talk to him,” Jack replied shortly. He turned back to face the road, giving you occasional glances.
“I don’t think he liked Shaw much,” you said after a moment. Jack’s face twisted into disappointment.
“Hey, now that ain’t fair Neil. He was Shaw’s friend just like you and I were.”
“Then why was he willing to let that little bastard go?” you shouted, slamming your fist against the dash. The glovebox came flying open, spilling napkins and several rounds of ammo into your lap and the floorboard which you hastily tried to pick up.
“I guess he just doesn’t see the point in it,” Jack answered with a subtle shrug. “He’s right, killing that fluffy ain’t bringing Shaw back.”
You threw up your arms in exasperation, a frustrated grunt escaping your lips. “That ain’t the point, Jack. He died trying to kill that fluffy. Don’t you think he’d have wanted us to finish the job?” Jack turned to you with an angry expression.
“I’m sure he would!” he spat, swerving slightly along the dirt road. “But what’s it matter? He ain’t around no more!”
And that… just made you sick. He held your friend in such low regard that he wouldn’t even avenge him against an animal.
“Y’all… y’all just don’t get it, do ya?” you muttered, burying your face in your hands. “I was trying to do right by him and get some payback.”
Jack scoffed.
“Don’t kid yourself. You wanted to make yourself feel better.”
…
“It didn’t work, did it?”
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