TextDownloadDust By Toxicsketti The Icy Wind whistled over the charred, dusty road. Cherry, a once bright red mare, wandered along with her herd beside the road, and a thin, dirty fog seemed to enshroud everything so that it was impossible to see more than a few meters in front of her face. There were no birds singing, no cars passing, no humans talking, no warm sunshine. Just a dark sky and the now constant, droning sound of the wind howling, save for the occasional sickly cough or cry from the dazed, shellshocked herd. They didn't know where they were heading, but they knew they had to leave the hell of the city behind. "Smawty, Emwald haf worstes tummeh owwies" Whined a green mare, struggling to walk on her worn, cracked hooves. Jerald,the Smarty, glanced over his shoulder with dead, tired eyes, saying nothing. He was so coated in dirt and ash that his original colour was a mystery. He kept walking, only stopping to occasionally dry heave, as whatever was in his stomach he had puked up long ago. Blood leaked from his anus, coating his legs and drying into a disgusting brown crust, and his fur was beginning to fall out in clumps. He didn't seem to care anymore. The herd was about four times smaller than it was when they had started their exodus,and the amount of fluffies that had either died on their feet or collapsed, giving up was so large that he barely noticed anymore. Cherry couldn't give up though, because she was pregnant, a "soon mummah". A few weeks ago, Cherry was living a pampered life in a large house, with her upper class owners, But nowadays they barely spent any time with her, besides feeding. They were busy bringing things down to the basement. Cherry, a fluffy, didn't know much, but she knew those tins, those huge boxes of tins they were bringing down contained food. Some even contained skettis! But all she was getting these days was kibble, and she had had enough "MUMMAH!" She shrieked. Her owner, turned around and looked at her, a large cardboard box in her hands. "WAN SKETTIS!" She sighed and looked her in the eyes. "No, Cherry, you have kibble. We need this food for the basement, remember?" "BUH AM SOON MUMMAH! NEE SKETTIS TO GIF BESTEST BABIES BESTES NUMMIES TU GWOW UP BIG AN'ST-" "I said no, Cherry. That kibble has everything you need. I promise you'll have sketties soon, OK?" She puffed her cheeks out. "NU! WAN SKETTIS NAO! NAO!" Her mummah looked down at her, her eyes weary. "Cherry, this is the last time, you don't want the sorry stick, do you!" Her eyes welled up, how could anything in the world be more important than her precious foals? "HATCHU! HATCHU! WAN SKETTIS! GIB SKETTIS NAO!" She silently shook her head and walked downstairs. That was it. She started running, through the hallway, past the TV where a young girl, and her Daddeh watched the "Tawky Box" with blank faces,that wasn't broadcasting anymore fluff TV anymore. Just words, a black screen and words. "If you are out of doors when the warning comes, take cover at once. If there are is no nearby solid cover, lie down in a ditch or hole, and cover your head and eyes with your hands and some of your clothes. When you reach shelter, change your clothes.." She ran out the door onto the quiet suburban street, and began to walk. If she was gone for more than a few hours, her mummah would find her and give her skettis. That had worked before, and she was sure it would work again. She smiled at the thought of delicious skettis and fluff tv, that would surely be given to her if her mummah didn't want this to happen again. She glanced at the huge houses in this well off neighborhood, long enough for her to not see a larger, menacing fluffy come around the corner. "Hewwo, dummeh" She let out a gasp as her eyes focussed on the dull purple pegasis. She had been told not to talk to ferals. "G-guway" She muttered, moving uncomfortably as she tried to find a way around him, but every time she did, he moved to block her path. "Wut wittle dummeh gon'do?" "Chewwy nu am dummeh, Chewwy am bestest fwuffy. NAO GU'WAY!" The feral pegasis didn't speak. He simply began to quickly walk towards her. "N-nu wan! Am soon mummah!" The feral fluffy cracked a sick smile as he picked up the pace, and Cherry decided to abandon her sketti quest and turned around, and started running as fast as a fluffy could run, despite the feral's superior speed. Tears began to run down her face. She was so scared that she didn't even acknowledge a sudden sound, echoing over the neighborhood. A loud, piercing rising and falling note. She kept running, hearing the tapping of the assailant's hooves behind her. She focused on her house at the end of the Cul-de-sac. If she could just get home, everything would be ok. Suddenly, she noticed that one of the drains she was rapidly approaching had a broken grate. Instinctively she stopped, but the fluffy behind her slammed into her at full force, pushing her forward into the drain. She fell into the dark tunnel, the only thing saving her legs from shattering on the cold concrete was a pile of damp trash. She looked up at the drain, her face illuminated by the slivers of light coming from above.Tears streamed down her face as the would-be rapist glared down at her, a look of disappointment across his face. How would she ever get out now? No one would ever find her. What if she never saw her mummah again? What if she didn't have SKETTIES again? How would her babies live? As she let out her first "huu huu”, the dim sky above the drain lit up in a fiery bright orange blaze. She closed her eyes to block out the unearthly light, and all she could hear was the screams of the feral unlucky enough to be in the open as he fried alive on the road, but was suddenly silenced by a roar, like a thousand thunderclaps at once, and then everything went dark. But all that didn't matter now. The sky was getting darker as the now invisible sun set behind the black clouds of smoke from the still burning cities, and the air was getting colder. Cherry felt her now overgrown tummy scraping slightly across the road. It wouldn't be long now before they were born. Would she be able to find food for them? She looked over her shoulder. Somehow the herd had gotten smaller in the last hour. The constant whistling wind, the fading "huu huus" Of the herd and worse, the silence was getting to her. Some of her fur had fallen out, and the cold was leaving blisters, but by now she was almost numb to the pain, almost. Her thoughts were cut off as Jerald suddenly gave a yell."WOOK! HUMIES!" The herd glanced up. Surely enough, through the thick fog, there was a small arrangement of tents by the side of the road. Fires glowed dimly, and dark silhouettes of humans moving about. The herd’s eyes lit up. None of them had seen a single human since...none of them knew how long! But it didn’t matter. In the small minds of the fluffies, they thought maybe if they just got to the humans, they would be taken home to nice houses, with nice owners and lots of sketties and everything would all go back to normal. A hairless, wounded pegasis to her right tried to say something, but nothing but a dry rasp followed by a spray of blood came out. Cherry didn’t care. She hadn’t eaten in days, and she needed to get to those humans if she wanted to save her babies. Without another word, the herd took off towards the encampment, a glimmer of hope in their eyes. Cherry had been wandering through the almost pitch dark storm drains for hours now. Tears rolled down her face as she sobbed. She had to find a way out and go back to her home. She drank the water that flowed under her hooves, and tried her best not to slip on the dirty slime that coated the ground. Every so often she heard a distant bang, followed by the ground shaking under her hooves. Every now and then she came to a dead end where the tunnel had collapsed, and she had to backtrack to find another passage. She thought about her owners. She thought about how her last words to her mummah was “Hatchu! Hatchu!”. She thought about her soft, luxurious bed and how much she had. Had she really run away from it all just for a little sketti? These thoughts only served to twist the knife. At last, she saw light at the end of the tunnel. The exit was small, as it had collapsed, leaving only a small exit for her to squeeze through. She pushed her hooves through the gap, and pulled her little body through into the blinding light. Once again, she found herself falling, falling onto soft sand. After her eyes had adjusted, she looked around. This beach was the place where she was taken while she was a foal, it was a lakeside, the background a beautiful, snowy mountain range. The sky was still grey out here, but the air was warm. She took a few deep breaths, before looking into the distance. Her tears dried up as a look of pure confusion spread across her face. She couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing, but to a human, the sight was unmistakable. Over that beautiful mountain range, several huge mushroom clouds towered into the sky, pushing their way through the clouds. The herd grew closer to the camp. They could smell cooking food and see the billowing campfire smoke as they approached, the sky growing ever darker. The hairless pegasis that once walked beside her had collapsed, writhing in agony on the scorched ground, spewing blood from his mouth and anus before going still. They left the road, sighing with relief as they trod on the soft ground, made even softer by the thin layer of ash that coated everything. As they passed the first tent, hope grew within Cherry. Finally, she would have something to eat, maybe even clean water to drink. Sounds of men talking made her ears perk up, and instinctively she began singing the mummah song to her now swollen belly. “M-mummah wub babbehs, babbehs wub mummah, gif bestes’ miwkie-” “What the fuck was that?” She went quiet. The now small herd shuffled around in anticipation as footsteps approached. A human appeared, but there was something off with him, Cherry could tell that much. The top of his head was wrapped in bloody bandages, save for a hole for one of his eyes.The bottom of his face was obscured by a dirty dust mask,and his hands were covered in bloody bandaids and sores that were slick with pus, but you could see his breathing speed up. Jerald was the first to speak. “H-Hewwo nice munstah..nee nummies fow hewd” “Am Soon-Mummah! Nee’ bestes’ nummies!” Cherry chimed in, smelling cooking meat from the fire behind the tents. He was silent for a moment,and suddenly the rest of the herd began shouting, screaming, begging. “Haf wowstes tummeh owwies!” “Gif nummehs,PWEASE!” The herd once again fell silent, and there was only the wind, and the man breathing through his mask. “Alright, I’ll get you some food.” He said quietly, his voice muffled. “Weally? Be nu daddeh tu?” Said Cherry, the first smile appearing on her face in weeks. “Sure. Just stay there and don't move, or there will be no food at all.” “Otay daddeh!” Said Jerald, as he set himself down on the ground, closing his eyes and smiling. They had finally made it. Cherry felt pain in her stomach. Where her babies finally coming? Good. After all this hell, all this walking and starvation, she was finally going to live with her babies, with enough food to make milk for all of them. She could hear the human talking to his friend, and a shuffling noise as they got up, The rest of the herd, who had been silent this whole time, were chatting amongst themselves in anticipation of the food. The man reappeared with his friend. He was completely bald, and covered in sores and wearing a mask like the other man. His face was red with burns and one of his eyes was milky white. They were both holding something in their hands. Jerald looked up at them with pleading eyes, tears of joy beginning to form, and Cherry stood up. “Nice mistuh haf foo-” And just like that, Jerald stopped talking as a sharp snap of a crossbow's string echoed out. Blood flowed down his face as the bolt sliced through his head, the tip exiting his skull and piercing his back. A second bolt rocketed through the air, splitting a green mare’s spine, going through her stomach and pinning her to the ground. “SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”! “SMAWTIE FOWEVA SWEEPIES!” “MUNSTAH!” The whole herd began running, shitting themselves as they did, but the humans were fast. They quickly reloaded and fired again, each bolt hitting two more fluffies, killing them almost instantly. Cherry grit her teeth and ran through the pain, a bolt skimming her face, taking off a thin sliver of flesh. She ran and ran, the screams of her herd fading they were picked off, one by one. The two humans pulled the bolts out of the lifeless bodies of the fluffies, picking them up and putting them into a dirty, torn sack. It was pitch black now, no stars, no moon, no light at all besides the flickering fire in the pit they had dug. They didn’t speak, they simply brought them back to a tree stump near the fire, and began to gut them with their pocket knives, before pushing a spit through each of their carcrasses, and set them over the fire. The bald man smiled as he poured a half full bottle of grain alcohol into two cracked enamel cups to celebrate their first meal in days. Not far away, behind a charred, burned out ruin of a house, Cherry wept. Why had she ever run away? If she had just stayed, she could have been safe with her owners, if she had just been more grateful. Blood trickled down her face, and she tried to keep quiet as pain and contractions wracked her body. Her foals were being born. She didn’t want to have them, she wanted to hold them in forever and forever, she didn’t want them to live in this horrible, massive sorry-box that the world had become. There was no more food, no more warmth, no more huggies, nothing. But she couldn’t control her body. With a shriek of “BIGGES POOPIES!” She gave birth to her foals in a splatter of afterbirth and blood. These were her last memory of the world before, of the last “Speciaw fwend” She would ever have. As her head cleared and the pain faded, she noticed there was no chirping coming from the ground. She summoned up the courage to look down. As her eyes focused on her bloody, horribly deformed, barely living foals, she wished that a bolt had hit her. “SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEE!” But her agonised cries were only answered by the howling wind as the night grew colder. Uploader toxicsketti, June 26, 2019; 03:47 Tags abuse atomic_bomb cold death dont_be_ungrateful explicit fire foals_die hell herd hunger illness massacre nuclear_apocalypse nuclear_war nuke post-apocalyptic pregnant radiation sketties smoke Source Unknown Locked No Parent None Rating Unknown Comments June 26, 2019; 03:52 - Reply toxicsketti: (Had to re-upload because I fucked up the first time, forgive the errors) I hope you enjoyed this bleak, depressing tale. Moral of the story? Appreciate what you have and that fluffies are the most resilient fuckers on the planet. Anyway, tell me what you liked about it, what you didn't, what would have improved it and what you wanna see in the future! June 26, 2019; 05:59 - Reply Anonymous1: This is true art. The apocalypse would be the ultimate end for the shitrats. June 26, 2019; 06:27 - Reply Theotherguy121: Eat those babbehs, bitch. June 26, 2019; 09:13 - Reply Anonymous2: Probably just as well. Her family probably would have traded her canned sketti for her babies to have fresh meat if she stayed. June 26, 2019; 10:26 - Reply Anonymous3: Top notch work! June 26, 2019; 20:01 - Reply toxicsketti: @Anonymous: You'd be suprised, their like cockroaches. June 27, 2019; 07:12 - Reply guodzilla: @toxicsketti: Very Bradbury-esque. June 27, 2019; 09:54 - Reply FluffyTorturer97: A mix between a cockroach and a fluffy Eesh scary shit, the durability would be the scariest part if they were to learn and adapt to the climates of a Nuclear or Atomic post winter. Very well written as well @toxicsketti id like to see more from this maybe some many decades later perhaps where the blighters have become more bigger in size and somehow mutated into something smaller than a cow but bigger than a goat. Had some ideas for a series or a single piece where a decoder decides to code some DNA for a few new strains of fluffy with mix of several creatures whilst keeping them small of course. June 27, 2019; 22:14 - Reply toxicsketti: @guodzilla: Ray Bradbury? I'm honored! I haven't read much of him but what I have I loved. What do you think made it similar to his style? June 27, 2019; 22:16 - Reply toxicsketti: @FluffyTorturer97: Good Idea. My intention for this story is that after such a horrific war we would all be reduced to shitrats. The sufferings of the fluffies in this story would be relatable and sympathetic to the humans, if not they were such valuable food. Those two guys at the end already had radiation sickness, and eating the contaminated fluffies wouldn't have helped. July 2, 2019; 18:24 - Reply Bendy_Devil: This was amazing!