The Hollow Man
Part 10: Freedom
Part 10: Freedom
As the blind filly shrieks in her jar, and Pear wails in anguish and pain below, you make your way over to Oliver, who cowers as you approach. “Pwease… nu mowe huwties… jus wan fowevah sweepies…” You sigh.
“Your wish is about to be granted Oliver. I’ve come to kill you. You bore me now.” He gazes up at you longingly. “Weawwy? Daddeh gif fwuffy fowevah sweepies? Fwuffy am su happeh…” He closes his eyes serenely, and sings to himself. “Get fowebah sweepies… nu mowe huwties… nice sweepies save fwuffy…”
You laugh coldly. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple Oliver. You should know by now that nothing comes for free.” His song slowly trails off, and his opens his eyes once more, looking at you like a pauper would a king. “Wha daddeh wan?” His voice is flat and expressionless. “Jus wan die.”
“Well, if I’m going to kill you, it’s going to hurt. A lot. Worse than anything I’ve done to you so far. You will die screaming.” Oliver ponders this for a moment, until finally he sheds hopeless tears. “Fwuffy nu cawe. Huwties wiww end.” You nod solemnly before grabbing him by one of his mangled legs and tossing him across the room.
“SCREEEEEEEEE!” His legs buckle even further as he hits the ground, splinters of bone bursting through his emaciated flesh, splattering the nearby Pear with blood. “Fpefhul fwend! Nu!” She turns to face you. “Munftah nu gif huw…” Oliver cuts her off. “It otay speshul fwend. Daddeh gif fwuffy foweveah sweepies.” Pear’s eyes fill with tears. “Nu… nu wan wose speshul fwe-HERGH” You kick her aside, sending her flying a few feet.
Crouching down before Oliver, you firmly grip his back legs, twisting the bones, and hearing a series of satisfying pops and cracks, as though he was made of bubble-wrap. “HUUUU HUUU HUUUUU… Weggies… pwease nu mowe huwt fwuffy…” You shrug, and tear his back legs clean off. “SCREEEEEEEE! SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” You immediately do the same with the front, causing the battered fluffy to scream even harder.
“HUWTIES! HUWTIES! SCREEEEE! HUUU HUUU… Bu… bu nu wowstest huwties… tank’ou fow take huwties ‘way daddeh. Huuuu…” You glare down at him. The cheeky little… You grasp one of his testicles in a forceful pinch, squeezing it between your thumb and forefinger until you feel it burst. You’d left them on in the hopes the blue-balls would drive him insane, but his suicidal tendencies meant it wasn’t an issue. You’re glad now you did.
“SCREEEEEEEEEEEE!” He hyperventilates in agony. “WAI TAKE SPESHUL WUMP!? SCREEEEEEEEEEEE! HUUUU HUUUU HUUUUU” You grip the other, squeezing it to the point of pain, but not agony. “I’m going to take everything from you before I let you die.” You punctuate the thought by crushing his last remaining gonad. “SCREEEEEEEEEE! HUUU HUUU HUUUUUUUU… JUS WAN DIE! WAN DIE! WAI GIF HUWTIES! HUUU HUUUU HUUUUU…”
Ignoring his protests, you then tear the loose the skin of scrotum away from his body completely, exposing his pulpy testes in a torrent of blood and fluid. Before he even has a chance to scream, you grip the spermatic cord of the first, and snap it like twine. His eyes buldge to obscene proportions, and he can barely even muster a scream. By the time you snap the second, and begin dangling his ruined manhood before him, all you can hear is a raspy moan.
You wait for him to stabilise before flipping him back over, so he rests on the ragged stumps of his legs, prompting a soft “Weggie pwaces stiww huwt… huuuu…” You toss the severed testicles before him. “Eat them.”
The little fucker actually shakes his head. “Nu wan.” You snarl animalistically, frightening even yourself. “If you don’t fucking chew and swallow your nuts right fucking now, I will do everything in my power to keep you in agony for years.” He lets out a strangled sob and slowly begins chewing his ruined balls. Once he’s done, you lift him up, and tuck him under your arm.
“Daddeh gif huggies?” You don’t even bother answering such a stupid question, and simply curl your fingers over his bottom teeth, getting a firm grip on his chin, and tear his bottom jaw clear from his body, tossing it onto the foal table. You’re not sure who screams louder.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER!” You feel Oliver’s torso wriggling weakly in your grip as he howls in misery, his tongue flapping uselessly as he tries to vocalise his agony. Instead, he simply emits a hideous gurgling sound, interspersed with primal shrieks.
You wrap your hand around his flagellating tongue, and suspend him by it, relishing in his incomprehensible moaning. A smile spreads across your face as you realise the simple fact that he will never again call you “Daddy.”
The foals however, skitter to the edges of the table, terrified by the rent flesh and bone. Zodiac, meanwhile, prods it curiously, a mixture of fear, respect, and amazement filling his widened pink eyes.
You shake Oliver up and down by his tongue, until it finally tears out at the roots, letting the garling fluffy drop once again to the ground. You laugh sadistically as he again tries to scream, producing little more than a breathy “URRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHH” as the air escapes his brutalised body. Kneeling behind him, so you have a leg on either side, you grip his ears, wrenching them in opposite directions. You make a mental note that what happened with Pear must not have been a fluke, as the majority of his face comes off with them, leaving his horrified family gazing at little more than skull and muscle.
As the limbless creature, scarcely even able to be called a fluffy, desperate tries to escape, you take out your pocket knife, and carve a wide ‘Y’ shape along his spine, before connecting the two peaks to the base with another two slices.
Pear and the foals watch in horrified astonishment, unable to look away as you peel the flesh from Oliver’s back, exposing his spine and ribcage to the air. At this stage, Oliver no longer even fights. Overwhelmed with pain, he simple hyperventilates beneath you, his eyes rolling in his head as blood pours into them, visible only as shiny rivers in his scarlet fluff.
With almost surgical precision, you snap each pair of ribs off at the spine, spreading them apart and exposing the delicate organs they tried futilely to protect. His entire body begins to shake, you can hear a faint, high-pitched, wheezing “Hhhhhhhhhh…. Hhhhhhhhhh” as he tries to cry with his mutilated mouth.
With all the gentleness and care of a hummingbird feeding its children, you slowly lift Oliver’s lungs out of his chest cavity, and lay them across his shoulders, marvelling for a moment as they deflate under their own weight. Slowly, almost in a daze, you reposition yourself in front of Oliver, watching him slowly fade from the world.
When death is seconds away, you firmly grip the sides of his head, pressing into his eyes with your thumbs. He struggles weakly, put finally lies still as you wrench his very skull apart, sending chunks of bone, blood and viscera flying in every direction, raining down around you.
Panting, and drenched in blood, you slowly rise to your feet, and turn back to the other fluffies. Pear stands motionless, the only sigh she’s a living creature and not a statue is the steady flow of tears from her one good eye. The yellow filly and the alicorn clutch eachother in a terrified hug, chirping and peeping in mortal terror. Zodiac stand on the edge of the table, opened mouthed, slowly looking between you and the obliterated remains of what once was Oliver.
You shuffle out of the room, and whisper “I’ll see you tomorrow.”