Fluffybutt Prose Poem: Crumbs
#16 of Fluffybutt Prose Poems
Not based off any actual furry, just a first draft of a poem for a horror fan who actually didn't care much for this one, at least not when applied to his own character.
The boarders do not know where they are. All they can call it is Hell. A boarding house with no apparent exit. A demented menagerie of lost souls and demons. When they aren't looking for an exit, the lost souls are having their skin ripped off them from angry, wandering fiends. Smashing through walls accomplishes nothing, as no hole has ever led to antyhing but another room. Crumbs, a lost soul thoroughly transformed into a bovine demon, bears a different goal. He seeks the cogs and gears of the house and rival demons. He collects and tutors what lost souls he can, but on occasion, loses one to the demons, or their transformation into one. The aim to escape notwithstanding, his goal is to learn how he kept his sanity into his bull form.