abuse author:branf1akes author:kaiserwilhelmii collab gun hearing_voices infestation insanity rage walls


To the lowly herd falling under its wake, the rain was pouring from the heavens like a Biblical
deluge. Wind whipped the water into their faces, eliciting soft cries of "owies" from the ones old
enough to speak, and fearful chirps from the foals not yet matured. It was some small miracle
that the little ones weren't tossed from their mother's backs and enveloped into the rainy night

"Smawty!" one of their number shouted over the cacophony. "Nee' tu fin' safe pwace wight nao!
Wawa gon gib fwuffies foeweva sweepies! Can 'ou see anyfing?"

The smarty strained his ears to hear. This wasn't a particularly insightful declaration.
Nonetheless the smarty refrained from snapping at whomever it was who made the remark. The
smarty had seen what a selfish, mean smarty could do to a herd before. He looked around.
Dark, dark, dark, light, dark. The smarty blinked. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he saw right.
Yes, he could see light!

"Dis way!" he shouted over the pour. Leading them to the source, the smarty could see that the
light was coming from a house.

A house.
The smarty's shiver wasn't from the cold. If there were humans living in that house, chances are
they were not going to take the entire herd in. The smarty wasn't ready to up and quit just yet,
but his mind was going blank at what to do. Upon closer inspection, the smarty realized that
there was a crack in a wall of the house. Was this hole big enough for a fluffy? The smarty
wasn't sure.

"*chirp* PEEP PEEP *chirp*" There was no time to double check. the babies could die out here
if they didn't get somewhere warm and dry, and fast.

"In hewe!" One by one the fluffies squeezed their way through the crack. Within half an hour, the
herd had pushed their way inside. As they sat and began to dry, the tell-tale thumps of human
footsteps provided indisputable evidence. They were no longer alone...

I like rain. Love it, as a matter of fact. The soft pitter-patter of the droplets relax my mind. All my
life, rain has been my closest ally, giving me respite in times of stress or tension. The plunking
on the roof, the clapping against the walls, they're just right.

It's only when those sounds come
from within the walls, only then do I grow anxious.
Perhaps, then, it could be understood why the soft tapping within my home's walls dropped my
stomach into my heels. I felt uneasy at the thought of just what could be in my walls. Soon,
however, silenced reigned again as the tapping died off, and I could soon chalk it up to rain
hitting the wall at just the right angle. I had nothing to worry about.

That night, I slept on and off,
as a near inaudible whisper, indecipherable, kissed the innards of my ear, and once again my

mind began to fizz as my fears worsened throughout the bitter blackness of my room. Daylight
had to come, lest I have a fit. And to my throat-clenching terror, daybreak brought tapping,
endless tapping, right next to my headboard...

"Tee-hee, gon catch 'ou sissy!" one of the weaned fluffies called out to its sibling. The duo were
playing a common fluffy game, huggie tag, to celebrate their rescue from the night's deluge. The
area they were playing in was practically just a corridor, so they kept running back and forth
along the same path.

The smarty was taking a headcount to see if any of their number had perished in the deluge. He
noticed one mare was fretting, anxious, breathing in and out rapidly.
"Wha wong Sawwy?"

"Huuu, Sawwy nu can find two babbehs!"

"Meybe dey take foeweva sweepies when da sky wawa come down?"

"Nu! Sawwy kno dey wewe hewe! Babbehs wan 'way!"

The smarty's fear and panic began to rival that of Sally, though he dared not show it, lest the
entire herd be overcome with it and alert the humans.

"Smawty gon go wook fow babbehs. 'Ou stay hewe!" Without another word, the smarty raced
through the tight confines of the herd's new home. Giggling wafted it way to his ears. He
followed the sound, and bore witness to the duo stomping up and down the little corridor they
chose to utilize for playing. The smarty brought his hoof down hard enough for the two to hear
and they abruptly stopped, scared by the noise. The smarty wordlessly pointed in the direction
from which he came, glaring at the two as they morosely avoided his gaze...

The tapping had been going back and forth behind my bed forever. It was absolutely
maddening. I got no work done, I had no thoughts isolated, I was at my wit's end. Soon,
however, more tapping from the hall came to my headboard and halted. Only a second later, a
decent bang rang from my wall and I jumped, spinning about and eyeing the wall, expecting a
bullet hole in it and myself.

Alas, my question was no answered, as the tapping only moved
back down the hall and out of my room. I needed answers, now. I began to press my ears
against every surface in the house. Some places, I swore I heard air moving, too quickly to be a
draft, as if the walls were breathing, waiting for my word to speak. Soon, I had gotten to the last
room I needed to check. All silent. As I pulled away from the last wall, two words nearly made
me scream. "Aww hewe..."

Satisfied with his count, the smarty sighed. Then, suddenly, crashing noises sounded out from
above them. Everybody was too scared to make a sound. The smarty realized that the sounds

were moving away from them, and growing more distant. What was the human doing?

Whatever it was, it seemed like it was moving away from the herd. The young foals began to
chirp, the others shed a few tears, and their mothers hugged them, telling them platitudes of
comfort. Even though the immediate danger is over, fear rolled over his body like a shockwave.
You've got to set things straight.

"Wisten up! Hoomin mistah nu can kno fwuffies aww hewe!" The smarty looked around the herd
to make sure everyone was listening.

"Fwuffies gon hab to be vewy, vewy quiet, ow ewse da
hoomin cou' fin fwuffies an twow fwuffies out ob new home!" He took a moment to make sure
everyone took in the implications of this statement. "Nao, weaw quiet, fwuffies can 'spwowe da
new home. Be cawefuw!" the smarty shouts out to the now dispersing herd. As the fluffies
slowly, quietly, began to branch out in their new environment, footsteps could be heard where
the herd once was...

I was damned. I couldn't be losing it. There was no way, it wasn't possible. Being a nervous
wreck and being psychotic were not one in the same. But they had to be, there were voices in
my walls. I dared not speak to them. Who could foretell what folly that could be?

I tracked the
tapping all around the house, slowly feeling my brain fracture at the thought of being a
schizophrenic. It was just too much. I spun on the spot, grabbed my keys and furiously slammed
the front door of my home as I got into my car and drove. I didn't know where to. Just anywhere
but home. Somewhere where I knew the walls wouldn't speak a syllable...

The fluffies explored the nooks and crannies of their new home, becoming familiar with the odd
turns and twists, the occasionally cramped spaces, even the odd, musky smells. The smarty
kept three fluffies with him at all times - two stallions and a mare. Since they were the quickest,
they could run through the passages fast enough to warn everyone if there was a major problem
and the herd needed to bug out immediately.

"Smawty, when fwuffies gon be abwe to hab nummies? Fwuffy gon hab tummie owies soon."
The smarty considered this conundrum for several minutes. Food was going to be hard to come
by in this place.

The smarty rested himself against a wall, exhausted from the cumulative events
of last night and the following day. But then, suddenly, the smarty fell on his side. At first he
thought that he simply misjudged the distance between himself and the wall, but upon looking
around, he realized that he was in another room. The wall had been loose.

"Smawty? Whewe 'ou gu?"

"Oba hewe fwiends! 'Ou can move da waww out o' da way!"
The smarty picked himself up and analyzed his surroundings. It was a bit dark, with light
seeping in from a thin crack in the middle of the room. Big and small immobile objects were scattered around the strange room. The smarty approached one of them and squinted his eyes.
It was blue in coloration, a bit on the long side. It had letters on the top of it, but try as he might,

the smarty couldn't read it, though even if he could, the meaning of the words 'CHIPS AHOY'
would be lost on him. He looked over the object and saw pictures of cookies. Cookies! This the
smarty could understand.

"Dis way fwiends! Smawty find nummies!" The quartet pulled the cookie package back into the
wall from whence they came, and worried about getting the package open for later...

The forest. The forest, bless it, the forest would not speak. Not so much as a single abnormal
peep. I could finally relax and sort myself out. I knew I wasn't crazy. I couldn't be, I'd know so, I
would know because... because...circular logic said so. I didn't have a clue, I was kidding
myself. I needed some outside help. I pondered if it was so bad being a basket case and just
keeping it to myself.

Unfortunately, going ballistic in my own home wasn't worth it, and after
some time and a drive later, I parked outside my home and set up an appointment with a
psychiatrist. Going made me sick, but it was better than turning feral. I made my way inside and
sat down upon my recliner, sighing deeply and waiting. Within the hour, the worst sound to
grace my ears made its return, and I had no choice but to bear it.

Clenching my hands, I
decided to eat something, anything to take my mind off the noise. I opened up my pantry and...
something was off. I was missing something. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I knew I hadn't
consumed whatever was missing. Had I? I couldn't be sure. I reached down to grab a box of
macaroni and was almost about to turn and get a jar of alfredo when a crack caught my eye. It
was large, strangely so. The piece of wall was on the shelf, dust spread about it.

Had I pushed
something in too hard and broken the wall, and it fell when I took it back out? It seemed
reasonable enough. My brow sweated nonetheless and only once I had finished my dinner did it
begin to fade from my mind. As I laid in bed some time later, the whispers began and I
desperately clenched my pillows against my head to stop the noise, that damned noise, that
goddamned noise. I groaned in frustration as tapping slowly made its way to my room...

"Mummah wuv babbehs, babbehs wuv mummah," a mare sang to her children, walking above
the ceiling of the bedroom of the man below. All the children under her care could walk and talk
at this point, and marched behind her. A strange looking shape with strands emanating from it caught their attention. The foals took to it and began to clamber up on it.

"Tee-hee, dis am fun!" one of them said. They giggled as their mother looked on, happy to see
them playing, enjoying themselves, getting a respite from the world. Something clattered under
them, but they didn't take notice until they heard a massive crash, like breaking glass...

As soon as the lamp hit the ground, I flew out of bed and sprinted out of my home and into my
backyard. Thank God for isolation and the safety it held, my underwear could only conceal my
bottom half so much, and naught could conceal the utter terror I wore on my face as I stared at
my room from outside. This was absolutely, utterly, without a single doubt in my mind, the most
fucked week of my life.

I dared not utter such language even alone, but I was barely together by
the strings I had stitched into myself, and here I was, unraveling at a lamp. I creeped back into
the silent home after a solid minute, carefully cracking open my door. Indeed, my ceiling lamp

had fallen out of the roof and came down upon me, breaking all across the floor and leaving a
deathly dark void in the ceiling.

There was no reason for it to fall out, it was brand new! The man
I had come and install it couldn't have done such a poor job it could fall out yet work perfectly for
a month! I was on the edge, and I had little patience to wait out whatever was ruining my reality.
I dressed myself, took off for a hotel, and checked into a room, patiently awaiting my
appointment with the psychiatrist to fix my problems, once and for all...

The shattering sound rang out through the entire house, awakening all the fluffies in the walls.
The smarty's head darted up immediately.

"Peaw, gu wook whewe da noise come fwom." Pear got up and raced through the winding
paths to trace the source of the noise, but since she began by searching under the floor instead
of the spaces above the ceiling, the fluffy family that caused the great ruckus is long gone.
When the smarty hears her report back, it raises more questions than answers.

What is that
human doing? Surely they wouldn't want to go around breaking things in their own home. For
now, he shrugs the issue off, and returns to sleep .
When morning comes, a new issue becomes apparent. Many of the herd have dry mouths and
parched throats.

One amongst them pipes up when the problem is brought up.
"Bwuebewwy 'memba seein' wawa somewhewe!" The colt leads the herd to a spot under the
house, where water pipes snake through the interior. One pipe is dripping water with the speed
of a tortoise.

"Dis nawt 'nuff wawa fow evewyfwuffy!" one in the group shouts out. The fluffies mill about
despondently, stuck at a crossroads. Some of them bite down on the pipes and wince at the
pain of biting on the steel. The smarty pokes at the dripping point with a couple of others,
trying to figure out how the water is getting through. In frustration, the smarty smacks the weak

The blow causes the pipe to shift slightly, causing the water to drip at a quickening pace.
Realizing what just happened, the smarty resumes the assault, encouraging the others to help
. Within the span of a couple of minutes, the pipe becomes dislodged significantly from its
original position, creating a steady stream from which to drink from. The herd celebrated this
victory, drinking to their heart's content...

I had finally arrived at the office of Miss Whatsername. Polly? Molly? Pauline? Something to that
effect. It didn't matter who she was, it just mattered how much they could help. I stepped in, 5
o'clock sharp, and received an admittedly award winning smile and warm, "Hello, hello, come

I meagerly waved my hand and sat down in the chair across from her. Pleasantries were
exchanged, the whole nine yards of family history with mental illness and my predicament, the
whole nine yards and our session drew deeper and deeper still.

"Do you believe you are going

"Has this ever happened before?"

"Why do you think you are going insane?"

questions of the most mundane variety. Our time ended seemingly as soon as it began, and the
polite exchanges of goodbyes coincided my departure. I sat in my car for a good minute, and bit

my cheek. With one quick turn, I made my way back from the hotel with my things in tow and my
eyes on home once more...

Having been satisfied, the fluffies leave the busted and still leaking pipe alone to go around the
house's walls once more. The trickling stream began to soak into the ground and the
surrounding walls, dampening them. A puddle began to form, then grew larger, and larger still.
Water was leaking out the wall adjacent to the growing spill and onto the floor. The wall was
becoming mushy and soft to the touch.

None of this, of course, was apparent to the fluffies who
were climbing in the cracks and crevices above the leakage.
Rosebud hooked her hoof on a support beam, then the other, pulling herself up to the top. Her
friend Tulip was having a harder time getting herself up to the top ledge.

"Wosebud won da cwimbie game!" She did a little dance in commemoration of the victory,
putting more strain on the weakening bottom beams.

"*huff* Dis game *haff* am too hawd *huff* fow Tuwip!" Tulip looked down, and it started to
dawn on her just how far high up she was. Her heart rate started to climb higher than she was.

"Wosebud! Tuwip am scawed!"

"'Ou awmost dewe Tuwip! Jus' widdwe mowe!" Rosebud encouradged. Then the bottom beams
started collapsing. Crashing and banging, they fell into the vertible lake forming underneath the
chasm, displacing yet more water. Tulip was hanging on for life and limb.

"EEEP! Huu huu! Tuwip nu wan faww! Wosebud! Hewp Tuwip!" The fluffy at the top
outstretched her hooves to grab her friend and pull her up, but she was just out of reach.

"Nu can weach Tuwip! 'Ou' hab to cwimb mowe!" Tulip eyed the watery grave below. She
started to cry.

"Be bwave Tuwip! Nu hab scawdies, just come to Wosebud!" Tulip shut her
eyelids tight, and pushed with her front legs as she could. When she thought her
front legs were going to give out from under her, Rosebud held on to her, pulling her to the top
ledge with all her might. The two fluffies were worn out from the ordeal as the water continued to
churn below...

I threw the front door open and eyed the walls of my home. Yes, tapping, whispers, but
something more to them. I was sure of it. More sounds, begging for me to listen closer, and I
would foolishly do as they asked, only growing in frustration as the only result reared its ugly
head to spite me again.

I would not have it any longer. I marched straight over to my bathroom
and hoped to begin furiously scrubbing my face, desperate to wash myself away. Instead, I was
greeted with absolutely nothing. Not a drop to be had. I could feel every muscle in my body
clench so tightly I could break my own bones.

What could have possible happened now?! Every
day, something else is coming apart. My body, my home, my mind, all deteriorating like a corpse

in a field. My blood boiled and I nearly smashed a hole in the wall as I ground my feet about,
dragging myself down to the basement. I had nearly hit the bottom step when a groan followed
by a splash caught my ears...

The collapse of the beams did not go unnoticed by the fluffies who decided to stay close by the
water pipe.

"Wha dat noise?" one of them asked. A young filly turned to her father and hugged him.

"Daddeh, Cawwie am scawed. Awe dose munstah noisies?" she asked, looking into his eyes for
guidance. The maroon stallion was frightened too, but steeled his will.

"Daddeh gon fin' out wha da scawy noise am, otay? Don' wowwy babbeh, daddeh gon be back
weaw soon."

"Bu wha if dat noise come fwom munstah?"

"Den daddeh gon gib da munstah foweva sweepies!" the father declared, overconfident in his
ability to take on a dangerous threat. He departed the small group to search. His advance
yielded him damp, wet feeling air, getting colder and colder as he went through. As the ground
underneath his feet felt damp as well, the fluffy noticed that the corridor was becoming more
cramped as he traversed it. That felt odd to him. This passage didn't feel so tight before. He
strained to move under the weight of the soggy wood, slowing to a literal crawl, before getting

"Huh? Wai nu can move nu mowe?" he pondered aloud. He pushed, pressed himself against
his immobile captor, to no avail. He decided to gather up all his energy and make one last big
push against the heavy surface before trying a call for help. Loudly grunting as he heaved, the
fluffy managed to free himself. Unfortunately for him, this caused the floor underneath him to fall
out from under him. Without even a single breath to cry out in surprise, the fluffy fell into the
billowing lake below, submerging himself in water, surrounding him with darkness as he
struggled not to suck the cold tendrils of the water into his lungs...

I heard a yell. I heard a yell, a splash, and my mind went over the deep end. I was absolutely
psychotic. Downright delusional. Seriously sick. I was out of my goddamned mind and I was
going to make this place talk if it killed me. I stormed down the few stairs left and gazed upon
the large bulge in the wall adjacent the stairwell. A pipe had burst, and now the wall was swollen
like a water balloon that had been overfilled. Something was pushing about inside, faint presses
against the surface.

I felt my skull shrink around my own engorged and overzealous brain as I
made my way over and examined it. I was soooooooo going to need professional help, and I'd
be sucked dry of more of my money, all whilst I was having an episode of serial proportions. I
finally let myself go and shouted in pure rage and punted a box nearby, which promptly flew into
the wall and opened a two inch hole in the side. Now I had to patch that up. Utterly defeated, I

trudged back upstairs, holding my head in my hands and shaking with residual anger as the
world whirled around me...

The handful of fluffies close by heard the impact of the box against the wall long before they
saw the result of it. They stood in silent fear for a long minute before one of them decided to
speak up.

"Gwape hab tewwibwe scawdies, meybe fwuffies shou' wun 'way, wiww be safe wif da oddahs."

"Cawwie nu wan weave daddeh! Cawwie wan wait, daddeh come back soon." the filly spoke
out, attempting to re-assure herself as much as the others.

"Meybe fwuffies gu an wook? Meybe dat am 'ouw daddeh, meybe he need hewp?" another of
them piped up.

"Ow meybe dat da munstah!" yet another argued.

"Nu cawe! Cawwie gon stay wight hewe an wait fow daddeh!" the filly insisted.

"Wedggie am gon gu wook an see wha da noise am, nu scawed ob munstahs! Am bwave
fwuffy!" And with that, Reggie marched towards the source of the impact, heedless of his
companions urging him to either stay or flee with them. Grape decided to retreat back into the
recesses of the walls, looking to book it as far away from the sound as possible. Carrie stayed
put. One fluffy decided to stay with Carrie to ensure she didn't get hurt by any monster or
something else.

It wasn't long before Reggie found the crack in the wall. Reggie stuck his head
out to look.
His eyes darted around the room. Boxes, some empty, some closed, some open with odd
assortments of junk overflowing its packaging littered the room. In the corner was a big black
object that a tiny mind like Reggie's couldn't comprehend was a furnace. Across the wall was
old gardening tools. Reggie's head looked down at the box that had opened up the hole in the
wall. It's contents had since spilled out all over the floor, which included a now damaged beyond
repair clunky radio set, a dented Pickelhaube, a tennis ball, and an ugly as sin Christmas
sweater. He looked back at the ball. A toy, he found a toy! Jumping out of the hole, Reggie pawed the
tennis ball back and forth with his front hooves.

Meanwhile, back behind the walls, Carrie and
her self appointed protector were becoming increasingly worried about her father's lack of

"Meybe someting happen tu 'ouw daddeh." the protector morosely suggested.

"Nu! It nu twue! Daddeh gun come back soon, weaw soon, an-" she was cut off as she noticed

that water was beginning to pool under her feet. In little waves the water approached, inching up
further and further.

"It nu safe hewe, fwuffies nee' tu weave!" the protector urged the little one.

"Bu wha 'bout-" Once again she was cut off, for on the waves of the steadily increasing water
level, the corpse of her father washed up in front of them.
"Daddeh? DADDEH! NU! NUUUUUUU!" Carrie wailed and sobbed as the protector dragged her
away to a safer location, kicking and screaming.

Reggie could hear the screams as well. He
considered heading back into the wall, but at this point his playing had caused him to move quite
a bit far from his original location. To make matters worse, he heard footsteps. Closer, sounded
as if it was walking down the stairs. Reggie began to panic, until he looked behind himself,
staring at the gaping maw of the furnace.
There was no choice. Reggie rushed in. He felt something sharp poke his hoof. He looked down
to see a glove, but it was no ordinary glove. Someone had put knives on the fingers. Someone
probably left it there as a cruel joke of some kind and never bothered cleaning it up. He held in
his desire to exclaim "owies!" and tried to hold his breath to be as silent as possible. He moved
up against the walls of the furnace, the inside of which was so dark that a person would be
unlikely to see him if they were looking right at him...

I knew I heard voices. Not muffled whispers. Voices. Speaking. Distorted, slurred words,
incoherent in their way, yet fluid in their response. I arrived once again in the basement and
screamed in horror as my wall was now leaking much faster, threatening my room and my wallet
further. I scrambled desperately to save everything I could, shoving it all away from the growing
puddle before patching it, albeit shoddily, with the tape I had brought down.

I finally sat down
and breathed. They were speaking now. Not whispering, speaking actual things, no matter how
indecipherable, and my entire body chilled in fear. That cold stayed with me, and soon it
became clear my home was in need of warmth. I stood up, neatly packed in my
great-grandfather's Pickelhaube, my gardening tools, everything that had fallen out, yet
something wasn't there. I gazed about the room and spotted a tennis ball, right outside the
furnace. How did it get there? I began to fear the answer, instead quickly pacing my way over to
it, picking it up and tossing it into the box before making my way back upstairs to retrieve my
matches and relieve myself of my feverish cold...

Reggie breathed a sigh of relief. The monster's footsteps and clattering had finally ceased, and
were moving far away from him. He peaked his head out of the furnace to make sure that it was
gone. Sure enough, it was not in sight. All the junk had been removed from the room too, even
the ball he was playing with earlier. Reggie looked at where the crack in the wall
was, but couldn't find it.

"Huh? Wha happen tu howe?" The footsteps started coming back, and Reggie ducked his head

back in. He closed his eyes, and internally thought to himself 'please don't come here, please
don't come here'. The furnace door was cracked open a bit more. Reggie held his breath and
held his eyes even tighter than before, anticipating the monster's horrible claws or teeth to sink
into him at any moment.

Then he heard something move into the furnace. Then another
something. He opened his eyes. The furnace was getting filled with wood! A large piece
brushed up against him hard, jabbing his soft flesh with splinters. Reggie winced a bit, hoping
that his soft whine went unnoticed by the monster. A pause made Reggie afraid that the beast
had heard him. Then some sort of liquid started getting poured on the wood. Reggie absolutely
hated the stench that assaulted his nostrils. What kind of water was this, he wondered?

A scratching sound sputtered out. A light of some kind entered the furnace - it was fire! Reggie
slinked back as much as he was able, not wanting to be illuminated by the light of the fire. Then
the fire was dropped into the wood. Then it started to burn. The furnace door closed. Reggie
was trapped! Smoke billowed up above him, making it difficult to breathe, causing him to cough.
The fire started coming his way, quicker now.

"Nu, pwease mistah *cough cough* mistah fiaw, pwease weave fwuffy *gasp* awone." He spoke
very quietly, just in case the monster was still around. Fire does not heed any words, and soon
began its encroachment on Reggie's flesh. At first, Reggie tried to hold in his screams,
whimpering in pain instead, but as the fire started to boil the skin on his supple body and burn
his soft fluff to ash, the smoke causing his eyes to dry out into flaky husks, Reggie could no
longer hold himself back.
As the fire continued to waste him away to the bone, Reggie's agonized hollering stabbed
through the house like a fist through wet tissue paper...

Screaming. Now they were screaming at me. I angered them, and now they were going to make
their dissatisfaction known. I practically sprinted out the basement and slammed it shut, locking
the door behind me and running all the way to my room where I dove under my covers and hid
for two or so minutes before dead air ruled the house once more. With extreme caution and
increased awareness of the endless whispers in the other walls, I made my way down to the
basement where I found only silence. Sweet, sweet silence, I nearly cried before I went back to
retrieve some towels to dry the puddle near the swell in the wall. After a call to the plumber, I
retreated once more to my room and collapsed into my bed, fried and fearful for my safety, as
per usual...

The smarty and his entourage barreled down the bends and turns of the walls to investigate the
source of the screaming. Turning a corner, they accidentally crashed into Grape. "Owies!" were
exclaimed by several. The smarty recovered and immediately started drilling Grape with
questions. Who was she with, where had she been, what went down, so on and so forth.
Shaken up considerably, Grape relayed to them information on the group she had been staying

with, and the bizarre noises they had heard. The smarty and his companions trudges onwards,
letting Grape continue her withdrawal to the rest of the herd.

It wasn't long before they met the
sobbing Carrie, and the fluffy who had decided to keep her safe. After another series of
questions, they were led to the body of Carrie's father, bloated from taking on so much water.
The smarty had them take the corpse. They dragged it back with them painstakingly to the
inadvertent hub of fluffy activity, then the smarty had his entourage call up and gather the rest.

"Wook at dis fwuffy!" he shouted out, once the teeming mass had showed up. Murmurs of fright
blitzed through the crowd. The smarty pounded his hoof down for silence.

"Dis wha' happen when fwuffies am dummies, an dis wha' happen when hoomin munstah catch
fwuffies wivin hewe!" A pause. "Nao wiww ou' wisten to smawty? Nao wiww 'ou use 'ouw tinky

The herd mournfully nodded or verbally affirmed the smarty's declaration. The smarty
allowed the fluffies to be dismissed. He sighed to himself once the others had left. He was
starting to wonder if taking shelter in this place was a good idea after all.
Unbeknownst to him, a new problem was soon beginning to make itself known. After several
days of living between the walls, the fluffies had produced a significant amount of feces that
simply lay bare in the confines. The smell was starting to make itself known throughout the
entire house...

It was a time before I could pinpoint the pungent odor that began to castrate my nostrils. It had
to have been me, what else was in the house that could possibly be reeking so badly? Yet, no
matter how vigorously I scrubbed myself in my now cold and unpowered bath, tensing me
evermore, or how deathly my cologne was worn, the smell remained, and soon I was again
maddened at the thought of my home decaying. No longer was the house talking to me, it was
driving me out.

I was absolutely infuriated, spraying Febreeze in every nook, every cranny,
every molecule of my home was coated in air freshener, and I bathed deeply in my strongest
soaps to wipe it from myself, afterwords bleaching my tub and wiping everything in the house
that wasn't nailed down, then everything nailed down. Nothing was spared, I cleaned things I
hadn't touched even before I moved in, found things most intriguing, and the epitome of which
was the pistol I dug up in the attic. Old. Worn. Easily over 100 years old. There were still bullets
inside, and soon the idea of blasting my walls to bits wriggled it's way into my cranium, never
leaving as I continued to clean. I would stare deeply at the origins of the sounds, imagining
silencing them with one shot.

No, it would be manic, pure madness to shoot my own home, yet I
wanted nothing but to shut everything up and bathe in the forthcoming silence it would behold
upon me. I writhed in my bed as the rotten scent once again invaded my head, and screamed
into my pillow as my escape provided no solace from the sound or smell...

Percy eyed the wires carefully. Blue, red, black, they snaked in and out of the walls at odd
angles. He had been looking these stringy objects over ever since the herd got here. They
looked almost like spaghetti strands.

Percy's stomach growled at him. It had been a long time since he had the heavenly meal. Was
this the delicacy he craved? He didn't think someone would put spaghetti in a place like this, but
he wasn't sure. He climbed up closer to a bundle of them a sniffed. They didn't smell bad, but
that didn't mean they were good, either. He licked them just to make sure. Didn't taste like much
of anything to him, but it didn't taste bad. If it didn't taste bad, maybe that meant it was okay to

Percy looked back and forth to see if anyone was looking. He leaned in close to the wires, then
bit into them. They were hard, and not very tasty. He kept chewing. Maybe it would taste better
if he softened it up a bit more. Wait, it was starting to taste different now, a bit like something
metal or-


Electricity had its way with Percy's body worse than a two dollar hooker. Arcing through him at
rapid speed, the electricity caused parts of his face to burn to black ash, his eyes rolled back
into his head, veins and arteries inside his entire body split open, causing massive internal
bleeding, and his brain steadily turned to mush inside his skull as he spasmed on the bitten
wires. Continuing to destroy his body from the inside out, the electrical power to the house
short-circuited, causing a total blackout.

Having started dragging a box of crackers down into the improvised den, the smarty froze when
darkness descended without warning. Usually he could guide his actions from the light that
seeped in from the cracks in the walls, but now he was going to have to make his way back
without knowing where he was going. As if his day wasn't bad enough already! When he was
about to start making the attempt to feel his way through, he heard a horrible, guttural cry.

sound belonged to no animal or fluffy the smarty had ever heard from before. That could mean
only one thing - that was the human.
As the throaty shout reverberated across the house, the fluffies began to panic, crying, making
their own screams of terror, or shitting and pissing in fear...

The ring of the scream died out, and in its place came my endless company of whispers, some
shouts in between, all berating my mental state regardless, and I once again was thrust into
anger. Sleep was fleeting and infrequent, and only when I pulled my head from my pillow did I
notice the lights had died as well. My worries once again flooded my mind, and I flipped every
switch, pressed every button, plugged every outlet, only to receive naught. I trudged down to the
fusebox, and received no more electricity than that of which had been accompanying me the
last half hour or so.

That could only mean one thing. The walls were not only going to speak to me, not only were they going to ruin my nasal cavity, they were going to deprive me of every
electronic appliance in my household. It was all conspiring against me. No, no, I was acting like
a psychotic. Something had to have gone bad with the wiring. But what? The wires weren't even
a year old at this point. Surely they were still good? I lit another fire in the furnace, my mind

wandering and slowly unraveling as I asked every possible question and was denied ever single

Of course, the bulge in the wall had grown since last, and as I retrieved a bucket I
wondered if perhaps it had come to short the circuitry? It was not unreasonable to believe so. I
let out all that could be and dumped it outside, wearily walking back to my only place of solace
and closing my eyes, hoping for a better tomorrow, but my faith laid anywhere but in that dwindling hope...

The smarty closed his eyes as the sounds of panicking fluffies echoed throughout. This is it, he
thought, this is when the human is going to kill us all. Hot tears had streamed down the fluff of
his cheeks, and he stayed where he was, daring not move from his spot.

Slowly, the frenzy died down, and without howls of pain to replace them. The smarty
opened his watery eyes. It was still pitch black, but nothing had changed. He still had the box of
crackers, he was still right where he was when the human had screamed his horrible scream.
Nothing happened. The smarty blinked. Sensing that whatever danger that existed before had
passed, he pulled his box into the drink of night, feeling his way along to make sure he was
going the right way.

It took him nearly triple the time it would have if there had been light, but he
made it back to the hub.
Once morning came, he took stock of his herd. Many had cuts and bruises
accumulated during the night, having ran into walls or tripped on their own feet, but rarely worse
than that. The most severe damage was to the house itself; though the fluffies could not have
known, in the veritable riot they had caused paint to come off of walls, or caused loose furniture
or boxes of junk to fall over in their haze.
The smarty was just relieved that no-one was seriously injured, or worse. As they opened up the
cracker box and tore the wrapper open, the smarty hugged each member of the herd
individually, and reassured them that the screaming monster in the darkness wouldn't do them
any harm.

After meal time, the fluffies dispersed, going back into the niches which they had made their
respective homes.
A barely weaned fluffy decided to wander from his sleeping mother's nest. There was a small spot a ways away that he liked to play in, climbing up and down from the wooden beams that
supported the house. On his way there, a smell drifted into his nostrils. Very faint, but there.
Even though he'd never known the smell of spaghetti, his brain recognized the scent as a
favorable one, so off he went to go discover its origins...

I was so very, very hungry, and I had never been angrier about it. I knew for a fact, for an
indisputable, rock-solid, absolute fact that I was not consuming all the food in my home. And
yet, it was all disappearing, as if I had not already lost so much. Oh yes, my home was quite
fickle with me, and it was going to take my food, my money, my sanity...no, no, a house cannot

eat food. But then, where was all my food going? Not to me. Not to me. Not to me, the one who
had purchased the godforsaken slop and taken it into my godforsaken car and brought it to this
glorified shack with a temper, and all of it was going to send me over the edge, I swore on the
Christ's anorexic body that I'd have one. Peaceful. Meal. Before I let myself go.

And so, here I
was, cooking spaghetti for dinner. Not that I was hungry. Not even famished. I was absolutely
ravenous. And so, I made more spaghetti than I had any right to, more than enough to feed
three men, oh so foolish was I that I cooked for three men, and three men could never consume
as much as I could, for I was hungrier than an Ethiopian child without teeth, and I was going to
eat until I'd never put another accursed bite of food into my stomach. And so, I finally finished
making my spaghetti, and ate enough to kill a horse, and then some more, until finally I sank my
head in shame of my deteriorating state and prayed to any deity that would listen to please, oh
please, please spare me the torment of living with an ailment as cruel as what had afflicted my home. I had nearly gone to bed, desperate to gain some escape from the noise and the
everything, when a very, very, very devious idea hooked my brain, and a deathly devilish smile
graced my face for the first time in many days...

The weaned foal followed the trail of smell. Hopping over wood planks, stepping over out of
place nails, and pushing through dusty cobwebs that made him cough a little bit, he felt like he
was on an adventure. The Great Quest to Find the Source of the Wonderful Scent.

He arrived at a wall. He was baffled. How could the smell be coming from the wall? There was
nothing on it, probably nothing in it either. The few brain cells active in his mind rubbed together.
Not on the wall, not within the wall, but behind the wall. There was something behind this wall
that was causing the smell. The foal wanted to cry once this revelation became apparent. How was he going to get past the
wall? Maybe it would move for him?

"Mistah waww, pwease move fow babbeh? Jus' wan fin' whewe nice smeww am. Pwease
mistah waww?" The wall said nothing. The wall continued to be a wall.
"Pwease mistah waww! Babbeh nu am meanie babbeh! Am gud babbeh! Pwease wet fwuffy
gu!" The foal felt moisture starting to well up underneath his eyelids.
"Pwease pwease PWEASE!"

The foal stood up and pounded it's hooves against the wall in a
desperation move, unable to think of any other response.
Luckily for the foal, this section of the wall belonged to a poorly fastened electrical outlet. The
outlet gave in, sending the foal through to the other side, causing him to land with an "oof!". The
foal looked around and realized his efforts were a success.

"Tank 'ou mistah waww! Fwuffy wub 'ou!" the foal told it. He looked around. Directly in front of
him was a big white thing with a handle. To his immediate right was a huge black machine, with

something transparent in the middle. The fluffy sniffed both of these, but the smell of them was
bitter, so he concluded quickly that these weren't the source of the smell. It was definitely a lot
stronger here though. Walking past the two things, the fluffy spotted another big thing, also dark,
but a lot wider than the other two things. The smell was even stronger there.
The foal walked over some odd looking ground that was a little warm, and stood on his hind
legs, gripping the side of the pan to look in at the contents.

There was a mish-mash of
something red with yellow stringy looking things in it. The foal, so overwhelmed by the joy of the
scent, decided to lick the red stuff. It tasted wonderful. The foal had to have more. He pushed
himself off the ground, into the pan, and started chowing down. It was the best nummies in the
entire world, for sure. The foal practically frolicked in the mess, until he heard some noises.
They sounded like footsteps. The human monster was coming this way! Of course! There were
his nummies!

The foal defecated in fear, and upon realizing it's mistake, tried to bury the feces
with what was left of the nummies. The foal then shot out of the pan, streaking spaghetti sauce
wherever it walked, and ran smack dab into the white thing. The white thing fell off the edge of
the ground, and made a crashing sound, accompanied with a slpashing sound. The foal didn't
dare look at the mess it had made, instead pushing itself back through the electrical outlet...

I had the perfect idea. It was so simple, so genius, I hadn't even the thought of anger at myself
for not thinking of it sooner. I grabbed my car keys, and paused. My counter had sauce on it.
The electrical outlet had come out. A coffe cup had shattered on the ground. And my spaghetti was all...messed about. I didn't give it any
further thought. I was not in the mood to stroke out right before my idea. I bolted out the door,
into my car, and floored it to the store. Within minutes, I had my saving grace at last. My tickets
to peace.

With their entry into my ears, I sighed a near orgasmic sigh. Peace at last. I cleaned my home
with joy, not paying any mind the mess on and around my counter. It would no longer matter. The plumber
would be here come morning, my home would be fixed, I could sleep easy at last, how
wonderful could a night be if it were any moreso than this? Oh, impossibly so, for tonight was a
night of utter pleasance, and I would bask in it as a snake does the sun.

I threw away my
leftover spaghetti, put the electrical socket back into its rightful hole, swept up the remains of the coffee mug, and retired to bed, eager to
sleep soundly at last, and as a full night's sleep held me in its loving arms, I could only smile that
my troubles would soon be resolved and my life would never again be as torturous as it had
been for a time so long, yet so short as these weeks of agony. With that final, comforting
thought, I closed my eyes, and dreamt of the coziest of homes and the warmest of days for the
first time in too long...

The foal continued to trail spaghetti as he beat his retreat to his mother's nest. Turning a corner,
he came face to face with the smarty. He didn't look happy.

"Mistah smawty, wha wong?" the foal asked. Instead of an answer, the foal got a smack to his

nose. "Huu huu! Wai huwt babbeh?"

"Babbeh tink dat smawty am dummeh? Babbeh hab skettie sauce aww oba fwuff!" the smarty
scolded the youngster. "It am 'OU dat make woud nosies, wight?" The weeping foal nodded his
head. "Wha smawty teww hewd?"

"Dat fwuffies nee' be cawefuw, a-an nu make woud nosies?" the foal meekly replied.

"Dat wight! Bu 'ou nu wisten!" The smarty glared at the kid. After a moment, the smarty pointed
in the direction of the foal's nest, marching him there and telling his mother to keep a closer
watch on her children.

The smarty retired to his own nest. He tried to make himself comfortable. When were they
going to learn how precarious the situation was? How many chances did they have before the
human monster flushed them out? These questions clouded the smarty's mind, preventing him
from drifting off into slumber. Who knows what kind of emergency could happen in the middle of
the night again?

Elsewhere, another fluffy was playing with the nails embedded in the crevice she currently
occupied. A couple of days ago she bumped into one that had been jutting out of the wall and
boy did it hurt! She was certain that everyone would be better off if these nails were pulled out
and put in a spot where they wouldn't be able to hurt anyone else.

Out went one. Then a second. Then a third. Forth. Fifth. Sixth.
Wood started to creak and buckle. The spot above the fluffy's head was starting to sag.
Seventh. Eigth. Ninth. Tenth. Eleventh.
Almost there. She was coming close to finishing now! She couldn't let the scary noises that the
ceiling or the walls were making deter her. She had to make sure it was safe!
Twelfth. Thirteenth. Fourteenth. Fifteenth. Sixteenth. Seventeenth. Eighteenth. The wooden beams started giving way...

Sleep, sleep, sleep, what a wonder it was. And with silence at hand, I was finally within its
enclosure and enjoyed the consuming feeling of happiness it brought. However, earplugs only
stop sound, and a monumental thud reverberated throughout my bones and convinced me my
home was not going to give its grasp on my sanity up as easily as I had presumed. No, it was
going to throw itself at me, and as I ventured downstairs and saw my poor, poor living room, that
sentiment became all too true, as I was gifted with the horrible sight of a caved in ceiling.

It was
finally happening. My house was coming apart at the seams, and no amount of money, time,

effort or goodwill was going to save it. The building was forfeit. All of it, forfeit, every single
goddamned inch. The solution was clear now. I had no other choice. I was going to reclaim my
home, no matter how much damage I may do.

With fury unmatched beforehand, I made my way
to *it*. Loaded. Cocked. Ready. I took out my earplugs and listened for the voices. Speak,
speak, speak dammit! And so one did, and it would learn that I would not forgive anything for
enraging my mind so.

Bang! A hole appeared just like that in my wall, and slowly, blood oozed
from it like a cut would on a child. Excellent. It'll learn. It will most certainly learn. Crying down
the hall. I focused myself. One shot. Bang! Similar results as before. More crying. Oh yes, yes
yes yes, cry some more, beg me not to burn this place to the ground...


Chaos. That would be a generous way to describe it. Fluffies were darting back and forth like
possessed by demons. Some of them streaked blood all over the confines as they raced
through, having been grazed by a shot or two. Mothers tripped over themselves or others,
sending the foals on their backs in every direction.

"SCREEEE! Weggie nu wowk! Fwiends hewp fwuffy!"

"Speciaw fwiend! Whewe speciaw fwiend gu?"



A bullet hit a fluffy in the side of its face, caving it in entirely, reducing the side that bore the
impact to little more than red ribbons and causing it's jaw to hang at an unnatural angle.

"Pwease, hewp fwuffy" was weakly uttered by a fluffy that had taken a horrible "graze" wound to
its chest; the ribcage was exposed, and the ribs themselves had been shattered by the bullet,
spreading bone splinters directly into the unfortunate fluffy's lungs. At lest one fragment had
pierced a major artery or blood vessel. This fluffy would die within minutes.


A pregnant mare had been virtually gutted by a bullet, under-developed foals with umbilical cord still attatched decorating the wall
next to it.


Several foals on the back of a mother were disintegrated, the only substantive thing left being
the upper half of a foal who wheezed a couple time before giving out.

"NU! Babbeh! Mummah gon hewp babbeh, nu wowwy!" The mare tried to propel herself
forwards, but her back legs would not move. The bullet had severed half her spine.

The smarty looked to his side to give an order to a subordinate, to tell them to round up whoever
would listen, but when the smarty turned his gaze there, his friend had been turned into mince
meat by a bullet as well.


That settled it. He was going to have to rally the herd by himself.

"Evewyfwuffy, dis way! Dis way to sabety!" Over the din, over the roar of the gunshots, the
smarty shouted to anyone who could hear, directing them to the exit. It was risky. The human
monster was shooting at anything that made a noise, and standing still was close to a death
Still, the smarty held his ground as fluffies fled past him, running through the crack from which
they had originally came. Eventually there were no more fluffies that were forthcoming. The only
sounds left were fluffies that were moaning in agony or were too far away to hear the smarty
anyway, and even those were getting snuffed out, one by one.

The smarty wiped the tears from his eyes before he left the house for good. This would've been
such a nice home to live in. Thus, he disappeared into the night with the remainder of his herd...

I followed every. Single voice. All of them, not a single one spared, all eviscerated by lead and
fury. When the bullets ran out, I took a steak knife and stabbed the walls, and they all bled the
same crimson water I had been gifted every other time. Soon no sounds were left. No more
tapping, no more speaking, no more violations of my privacy that I had earned and rightfully

I had had my way at last, and finally, amidst the rancid odors, leaking water, blood,
wood and silence, I collapsed and cried harder than I ever had, for I had finally let go, and never
again would I be whole, wholly together and yet apart as I was at that moment, and the life I had
desperately tried to save faded as I writhed on the floor and contemplated suicide again and
again, and release could never be mine, for I was always going to be reminded of all the pain
and suffering I had endured for many moons.

At last my tear ducts dried, and I was taken by
sleep, no more forcefully than I had been with my walls, yet no less so, and nothing was gained
or lost then, as I finally, truly rested my mind, and as morning came and I was awoken to the
plumber who came to my home as kindly as I had asked, I could only allow him the grace of
fixing my water problem. At last, he had resolved it, as worried as he appeared, and with that he
told me of a truth I had been unaware of for so long. At last, my questions were answered, and
as he left I could only cradle my head in my arms and gently sob, as I had ruined my home and
destroyed my mind.

And all because of fluffies hiding in my walls.
Uploader BranF1akes,
Tags abuse author:branf1akes author:kaiserwilhelmii collab gun hearing_voices infestation insanity rage walls
Locked No
Parent None
Rating Unknown


- Reply
BranF1akes: Third collab piece between me and @Kaiser_Wilhelm_II. Hope you enjoy the show.
- Reply
Anonymous1: Don't leave like the rest. At least not yet.
- Reply
Anonymous2: when you mentioned the fingerknife gove i though we would see freddy
- Reply
BranF1akes: @Anonymous: Certainly not, I have some more stories planned and I'm working on getting more out soon.
- Reply
Fluffus: That was very entertaining.
- Reply
Anonymous3: i was seriously expecting to see kruger here