Prototype: Fluffy Pony

>be Alex J. Mercer

>a killer, a monster, a terrorist

>you are all of these things

>oh, and you're a walking superhuman perversion of science and nature borne of a mutagenic virus called Blacklight, which makes the T-virus look like the common cold

>you're doing what you always do today in the war zone of Manhattan. following leads provided to you by your sister, fighting hellish mutants, fighting it out with Blackwatch and their Marine meatshields... and most importantly, discovering your past, finding out who turned you into a freak and caused the Blacklight outbreak, and making them pay.

>aaaah, it feels good to be back. Dr. Ragland is a miracle worker, getting rid of the parasite that was feeding on you and sucking away your powers.

>just a few minutes ago you got into a real jam that almost killed you; you fucked up while infiltrating a military base in Harlem. it turns out you really need to work on your Stealth Consuming, since a lucky grunt saw you absorb a Blackwatch officer.

>all of the soldiers immediately fired at you with rifles and rockets. not wanting to bother slaughtering them, you fled

>you escaped the base in a hail of gunfire and took to the skyscrapers, only to have a Strike Team hot on your tail

>you destroyed several strike teams with your bare hands(er, Whipfist), but you took a lot of damage and you need to lie low for a bit

>as the last pursuit helicopter goes down in flames, you leap into an alleyway

>an alleyway with a single infected civilian hobbling. good!

>upon landing, you immediately morph your biomass until you no longer resemble Alex Mercer, but a Blackwatch sleeper agent, a young black man you consumed a while back

>stupid Blackwatch, thinking they can use sleeper agents masquerading as civilians to track you. at least their memories help you unravel the web of intrigue surrounding yourself, Blackwatch, and the outbreak to find clues to both your past and Blackwatch's history and movements

>you still remember the terrified look in the man's eyes as you tore into his chest with your fist and obliterated his spine, before you consumed him...

>you ponder this as you knee the infected zombie in the face so hard that her head explodes.

>the headless corpse is immediately grasped by tendrils emerging from your body, drawing it in and reducing it into shapeless biomass to feed you

>soon, nothing of the infected civilian remains but a puddle of blood at your feet.

>phew... you feel a little better. even better, since it was an infected, you aren't suddenly bombarded with its memories. it's always a good thing.

>just then, the radio that you took from a Blackwatch officer a long time ago squawks. Blackwatch has lost track of you and has called of the pursuit.

>this radio is so handy. it's a good thing your body was unable to break it down, so it now keeps you alert on current Blackwatch operations

>good! you are alone with no civvies, troops, or infected in sight, so you can take a short brea--

 

>"S-scawy hooman g-gone? Oh nu! Mo' munstas! P-pwease nu huwt!" What? uh-oh, did some kid see yo--

>you look behind you and see... a dumpster, the walls, and some graffitti. but you still hear sobbing. maybe the kid is behind a dumpster.

>you make your over, dreading every step you take.

>so far you've only killed and consumed adults. this kid sounds like a toddler.

>you're actually afraid. not of the kid, but of what you may have to do to keep yourself hidden.

>you already have to deal with the haunting memories of men and women screaming as you murder them. you'd REALLY not have to deal with hearing a little kid screaming in your head for the rest of your life.

>maybe his parents were killed and he ended up here? maybe you can take him to Dana or Ragland and--

>you sigh in both relief and annoyance after peering behind the dumpster. the "toddler" was just one of those fluffy pony things.

>you see a dirty, blonde, sobbing pegasus mare with a purple mane and tail, her stubby front legs covering her eyes

>if your memory serves, she's doing this because, by fluffy logic, if she can't see you, you can't see her.

>you can thank a consumed Blackwatch soldier who abused fluffies in his childhood for that information.

>you're prepared hurl this thing halfway across the city for giving you a scare... or due to some of the "hugboxers" in you, you're ready to hug it and say that the monster is gone... but the scientist in you(or rather, the scientists IN you) gives you further pause

>this is the first fluffy pony you've seen since you first woke up in a Blackwatch morgue.

>the memories of a Blackwatch scientist confirm that animals, including fluffies, are not affected by Blacklight, so you suppose that, much other pets, the infected, the soldiers, the tanks, and the fires and explosions have seriously whittled down the once thriving fluffy population of Manhattan, domesticated and feral alike.

>all of the humans you've consumed have varying feelings about these artificial creatures. some loved the fluffy ponies as they would a dog or a cat. some reviled them seeing them as annoying pests that ruined lawns and gardens and caused traffic accidents. still others, especially many Blackwatch soliders, abused and killed countless fluffies(no surprise there), for no reason other than that they could.

>so far, you've only consumed humans, and monsters that were once human. surely, a fluffy pony is still made of biomass... you can't help but wonder what it'd be like

>"Munsta n-nu see fwuffy, *sniff* m-munsta no huwt fwuffy... Munsta n-nu fin' Wisa, munsta w-weave fwuffy a-awone..."

>...

>only one way to find out!

>you grab the fluffy by the scruff and lift it up

>"Nu nu nuuuuuu! Pwease nu huwt, wet fwuffy down! Waaaaaaah!" the squirming mare pleads, her wings buzzing frantically as her bowels release its contents

>with your free hand, you raise a finger aim it at her chest

>"Wet fwuffy go! Nu wan owwies! Nu huuuu huuuuu!" she cries, her face soaked with tears

>you reconstruct your fingernail into a claw and pierce the fluffy's chest and impale her heart, reducing her screaming into pained gargles

>black tendrils emerge from your hand and stick themselves inside her. some also form on your arm and grasp the outside of the barely living mare

>"Guh... nu... mo'--" she squeaks before her head falls limp

>your tendrils immediately go to work, "digesting" her fluff, flesh, organs, fluids, and bones into lump of biomass the size of your head, which is absorbed into your body

>okay... not as good a pick-me-up as a human, but it'll d--

>ooooogh... your head is pounding... that can only mean.... you're going to relive her memories too? you that that only worked for hu--

>the pain soon becomes unbearable. you grasp your head in agony and fall to your knees as a million fluffy thoughts flood your brain.

 

>...

>you're... seeing the world through her eyes... her memories are now yours.

>she was... a feral...

>Lisa... her name was Lisa...

>or was it Risa? Let's go with Lisa.

>...it feels weird looking through the eyes of a thing so small... everything is huge when you're a fluffy pegasus

>...she had a herd...

>...emphasis on "had"

>Lisa is on a street corner, filled with human corpses and stained with blood. in front of her is a small pack of zombie infected, distinguished by their gaping infected wounds and lumbering gait.

>"WAAAAAAAAAAH! Munstas! Scawy hoomans! Wun away! Smawty distwact munstahs! WUN!!" screams a monotone green fluffy unicorn... her "smarty". and her-- he's charging the infected!

>she turns and runs, vision partially obscured by tears... all around her, the herd is in a chaotic state... fleeing from the infected civilians

>Lisa and her friends have been on the run since the infection hit Manhattan; seemingly nowhere is safe for fluffy ponies.

>in fact, Lisa's heard a lot bigger...

>since they look so much like normal humans prior to further mutation, infected civilians have been referred to as "scary humans" by fluffies due to their frightening, inhuman appearance.

>anyway... they may be slow, but even freshly infected humans are fast enough to keep up with and feed on the terrified, confused, uncoordinated herd of a dozen or so fluffy ponies

>she keeps running... she can hear the sounds of her herd dying.

>"Smawty gif scawy hooman big-- GAAAAAAAAAAH! OWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!"

>"Nuuuu huuu huuu! Scawy hooman haf sissy! Hewp sissy!!"

>"Aaaaaaaaaah!!! Pwease nu huwt-- AUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH!!!!"

>"Nu eat babehs! Mummah save babe-- NUUU WET MUMMAH DOWN HEWP BABEEEEEEEAAAAAAAH!!!"

>"Why smarty no safe-- EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! GIVE SUNN WEGGIES B-- GACK!"

>"Mumma! Mumma! Wuv! Hewp! Wuv! MUMMA! MUM-- EEK!"

>"Fiwwy hide... no see munst-- NUUUUUUUUUUUU MUNSTAH HAF FIWWY HEEEEEEEEEWP!!!!!"

 

>she ran.

>she didn't look back. she listened to smarty... no, to Barry, her special friend.

>She is the only survivor.

>every last one of her friends died screaming, utterly helpless as the zombified civilians devoured them alive.

>she escaped to this alleyway. she stayed behind the walls to catch her breath.

>suddenly, from the other side of the street... the earth began to rumble and saw...

>the only reason the infected didn't get find her was due to a tank appearing and blowing the infected away.

>it took... about 20 minutes before the tank left...

>as the earth shakes from the loud explosions and the sounds of machine gun fire fill the air, she weeps from her hiding spot behind a dumpster.

>"Waaaaaaaah... miss s-s-smawty Bawwy... miss... huuuu... Wisa miss f-fwends... waaaaaah... *sniff* huuuuuu..."

>"Grah! Grawah!" Her fluff stands on end. what was that noise? sounded scary, it sounded like...

>"gulp

>she peers from behind her hiding spot...

>oh no! it's one of the scawy humans! it saw her and it's coming this way! "Graaaaah! Fwaaaah!"

>"N-n-nuuu! Munsta! No mo', no mo' huwties! Go 'way!"

>she was back behind the dumpster again and covered her eyes....

>and that's when she heard a loud thump...

>Graaaaah! Awaaa--" SPLAT!!

>it's quiet, except for an icky, wet sound

>she nervously peeks behind her hiding spot

>"S-scawy hooman g-gone?" And then she saw that the infected was gone, but... there you were. "Oh nu! Mo' munstas! P-pwease nu huwt!"

 

>you gasp as your headache suddenly clears

>you're in the empty alleyway still.

>sheesh... that was rough. pretty shitty way for Wisa to di-- for the fluffy pegasus to spend her last hours alive.

>...hey, let's try something out.

>you focus... you shift your biomass... shrink and compress it...

>whoa, everything's getting big.

>okay, that should do it. let's see... you raise an arm... no, a weggi-- a LEG, up to your face.

>yes! a stubby, fluffy yellow hoof.

>"Awight! Awex am fwuffy! ...Wah? Why Awex tawk wike dis? ...Fawk."

>God dammit. focus...

>"Alright... testing one, two, three... Good." you say in your normal gravelly voice. while in the body of a fluffy mare.

>you smirk to yourself. you should take this disguise for a test run

>you squat and leap several dozen feet into the air.

>adrenaline pumps through your veins as you run up a skyscraper and make it to the roof.

>you survey the city below you.

>okay, so you're going to need more biomass if you want to heal fully. there's an infected zone near Central Park. you leap once again and soar through the air.

>normally, gravity would dictate that your fluffy pony drop like a rock, but fuck gravity

>you spread your hooves out and force a stream of blood to leak from your wrists, allowing you to glide through the air rushing past your face.

>"...Yaaaaaaay! Wisa fwyin'! Wuv fwy! Wisa see evewyting fwom hewe, wook so wittle! Yaaaaaa-- cough!" you clear your throat.

>wow...it would seem that, like all pegasus fluffies, Fluffy always dreamed of flying.

>like every human you consumed, Lisa is a part of you. you've fulfilled her dream for her. she just had to scream it out!

>...that's some fucked up shit right there, you think as you land on a hotel building that stands just across the street from Central Park.

>several stories below you, infected civilians crowd the street, preying on the hapless citizens of Manhattan.

>you jump. time to consume...

 

>you are PFC. Daniel Hull, a Blackwatch grunt

>you're on night patrol near Central Park.

>an Infected Hive was just destroyed an hour ago a few blocks away. Blackwatch Command is trying to construct a base to help gain control over that area.

>bored, bored, bored... there's no living infected around. they all die inexplicably when their local hive is destroyed.

>there's nothing but Semper Fi Faggots and idiot civvies going for a stroll.

>da-yum, that coon chick's got great tits... bored bored bored...  Man, if you don't get to crack someone's skull or get some tail soon, you'll go AWOL or something.

>you walk towards an alleyway, you gotta take a leak. maybe you'll rub one out to the memory of that niggress' tits while you're at it.

>this wall behind a dumpster will do. *zip!*

>aaaah... that was nice. *zip!* you turn around to lea--

>*splash* the hell?

>you just stepped into a puddle of something. is that... blood?

>it's fresh blood, but there's no corpse. how did this get here?

>"H-hewwo? Pwease hewp fwuffy, fwend gif nummies?"

>lolwut? you look to your side.

>there's a dirty fluffy pony in the shadows, with green eyes to your right. how did you not notice her? fucking nignog tits, man... that and it is dark in this alleyway

>"Pwease gif nummies to fwuffy? Fwuffy gif hugsies?" she begs, her eyes watering to crank up the cute factor

>silly bitch, your weapons cannot harm me!

>"Ahhh, perfect timing, little girl." you swagger up to her, smirking behind your gas mask. "I've been looking for something to take my frustrations out on. Lucky you!" you say in a sinister tone.

>oddly, instead of protesting or showing fear, fluffy pony is... cheerful? "Yaaaaay, bwack mistah gif foodies to fwuffy!" she squeals in delight

>wow, you've seen dumb fluffies before, but this chick's special. "Yeah, I got something for you alright." You look at the dumpster. You bet can open the lid, place her where the lid meets the edge, and smash her in half by slamming--

>"Mistah gif nummies, fwuffy tummy happies!" she squeaks happily as she approaches your leg to hug it, her blonde wings buzzing.

>oh, she's gonna get it! you pull back your leg and punt her right the fa--

>*crack* "URGH! FFFFFFFFreakin', owowow!" you grunt as you grasp your foot in pain... while the purple haired fluffy pony is completely unharmed

>what the fuck! it felt like you were kicking a cinder block! how the fuck is that possible! ffffffffffuck, you might have broken a toe!

>"Hey! Bwack mistah meanie! Why no gif nummies?!" she says, changing her tune to one of anger.

>"W-what the fuck are you, you fucking freak!" you yell, now pointing your rifle at this, this... thing!

>"I Awex Mewcah. YOO NUMMIES!" she shouts!

>faster than you can react, her front hoof transforms into a claw, which stretches and pierces your throat!

>"AUGH! Guuuh, aaaah..." you groan, body going limp

>mercifully, you faint from the shock as Zeus' tendrils begin to break down your body...

>fucking Zeus...

 

>you are Alex J. Mercer

>you have an ear-to-ear smile on your blonde fluffy face as the soldier's biomass is absorbed.

>all that's left of PFC. Daniel Hull is a fresh puddle of blood at your hooves.

>thanks to this guy, you know just where to find an important commanding officer.

>so long as you don't disguise yourself in plain view, this fluffy pony form can be very useful indeed... If three Blackwatch soldiers don't see fluffies as a potential threat, than neither will the Marines nor Blackwatch Command

>you leap away in the darkness.

 

 

Author's Note:

This is just something stupid I made on a whim last night after a playthrough of Prototype. Yeah I've been gone 4 months without a new story, but better late than never. (inb4 "Who the fuck is Splinter17?"

What? What's Prototype 2? James Heller? I have no idea who you're talking about. Alex Mercer as a generic megalomaniac? Have you been drinking?