Written
Reblogging so people can read it at a sane hour if they like. I wrote this 'cause a Tumblr friend requested a story with a unicorn so this is it...my style. It was influenced by My Little Pony, Evil Dead 2, and The Raven...although maybe only I see that subtext.
They say that when you go insane you can't tell. I mean it wouldn't really be insanity if you knew they were hallucinations.
But unicorns just don't appear. Especially not cotton candy pink ones with bright purple hair. Especially not when they are only 2 inches high.
The first time I saw it was during breakfast. I had made toast and was just sitting down at the table with it and my OJ when I saw it. It stuck it's head out from behind the cookie jar sitting in the middle of my table.
It wasn't like in the movies. There was no wavy change of scene, it didn't appear all misty or glowing around the edges. It was just a little pink unicorn as real as you or me.
I half expected it to speak in a high pitched, girly, cartoon voice, or at least to whiny as normal horse-sized horses are wont to do.
It didn't. Instead it looked up at me for a moment, pawed the ground, then ran full speed into my arm. It's little horn jabbed into the back of my arm just above the elbow.
So sure was I that this was a hallucination that I didn't expect pain. I was wrong. There was pain AND blood. I screamed and pulled my arm away, jumping up from my seat. The little unicorn grinned at me and ran back behind the cookie jar.
I wrapped a towel around my bleeding arm and shoved the cookie jar so roughly out of the way that it fell to the floor and shattered. An empty table there, and nothing more.
But the little thing had been fast, maybe it had managed to find another hiding spot. I went to the bathroom and put a bandage on my arm. The hole was small, barely larger than the tip of a pen, but it was deep and didn't want to stop bleeding. That taken care of I proceeded to tear my house apart.
I searched for hours and found no unicorn, nor any signs that any such small pests, real or imagined, had taken up residency in my house.
I wanted to tell myself I'd imagined it but the wound on my arm begged to differ. I figured if I could find the little wretch maybe I could trap it. I wasn't sure what tiny pink unicorns ate though.
It wasn't like I could just research this sort of thing on the Internet. I decided to use a sugar cube. Regular horses like sugar and unicorns were just candy-coated fairy-land version of horses. I took a mouse trap out of the closet and set it in the kitchen with a single cube of sugar waiting to tempt the tiny equine invader.
That night I couldn't sleep. I lay in the dark waiting to hear the snap of the trap going off. Finally near dawn it did, startling me from a half sleep.
I rushed into the kitchen and swatted the light switch. As light flooded the kitchen I looked happily towards the trap. It was empty. No unicorn. No mouse. Nothing there. Not even the sugar cube.
With a growl of frustration I flicked off the light and went back to bed. As I lay there nearly sleeping I felt it. Movement under the covers. Something was in the bed with me. I felt tiny feet crawl up my leg, past my groin, over my stomach and onto my chest. It sat there in the center of my chest under the covers. I could feel it as a tiny weight.
With trepidation I slowly lifted the blanket. It looked up at me with tiny black eyes. The damnable unicorn. With a gasp of disgust, and a little fear, I threw myself from the bed. I heard it land and scurry away somewhere into the night. I sat on the ground for a moment unsure of what to do, unsure of my own sanity were I to tell the truth. I looked to the window and saw that the sun had breached the horizon. It was morning and I saw no reason to stay in bed any longer. It was not as if I were going to sleep anyway.
Back in my kitchen, making the same breakfast of toast and orange juice that I had made the previous morning. I sat at the table and stared suspiciously at the empty spot where my cookie jar had previously sat. The troublesome spot where all this had started. There was no one I could go to for help, no one would believe me. They'd think me mad. Were it not for the ever-present throbbing in my arm I'd think myself mad. I couldn't eat. I stood and threw my breakfast in the garbage.
I got dressed as quickly as I could. I had missed work yesterday and would not do so again. Luckily I owned a rare book store, so no one would miss my presence except a few regulars.
As I stepped out the front door I thought to myself: "Maybe this is the answer. Perhaps the creature is tied in someway to my tiny house. Maybe I can find another place, or stay in the shop for awhile."
Soon I had arrived at my store and parked in my usual spot. With a sense of relief I opened the door, cheered at the sound of the bell that rang whenever someone entered. Just being away from my home and the detestable pest had relieved me to a great extent.
The day proceeded as usual. I didn't have a large customer base but those I did have tended to buy from me fairly regularly. It suited me. I made a living without having to wait on people all day.
I was just about to close when I saw it. A small flash of pink disappearing behind a display full of classic American poetry first editions. I gritted my teeth. Surely I hadn't really seen that. Surely the creature couldn't be here as well. I grabbed a small flashlight from beneath the counter and shined it behind the display.
At first there was nothing then with terrifying speed it appeared from within the wall. It rammed itself into my face missing my eye by a matter of inches. With a shout that was half pain/half shock I jumped up. I fled the shop locking the door behind me. In my haste I hadn't bothered to turn off the lights or flip the sign to closed, but I didn't care.
I went to a bar and proceeded to drink myself into a stupor. I told no one why I was there. I wouldn't have them thinking me insane. After I was forced to leave the bar at closing time I begrudgingly returned to my home. It was as I had left it. A small quaint home. No lights from within, and no sign of the thing.
I unlocked the door and carefully poked my head into the house. Quiet there, nothing else. No sounds, no apparitions, no detestable horned ponies. I stepped quickly within. I held before me a thick copy of Hemingway's "A Farewell to Arms" which I'd had in the car. It was a hefty book more than enough to crush a rodent...or a tiny mythical creature that had no right existing in the first place.
At first it seemed that I was safe. Then it appeared, moving as quick as ever it ran from beneath my armchair and came at me it's blood drenched horn pointed at my ankle.
I slammed the book down with a satisfying crunch. I left it laying there for a moment unsure how to proceed. I hadn't believed that such a straightforward plan would work.
Lifting the book up I found a tiny smear of blood and purple hair stuck between book and floor. It was dead! I had succeeded. I dropped the book back onto the floor covering the creature's flattened corpse. I'd take care of the mess in the morning. for now it was time for some much overdo rest.
I awoke later than usual the next morning, but I didn't care. I deserved the extra time. I walked into the kitchen to prepare my usual repast. Toast and orange juice. With a satisfied sigh of relief I sat at the table and began to eat.
I almost choked on my first bite when I saw it. A tiny pink unicorn limping towards me from across the table. It was the same one as before, but so different now.
Whatever dark magicks had brought this thing into my life had somehow reanimated it. It now stared at me with black eye sockets where it's eyes had previously been. I could see white bits of bone peeking out from beneath its pink flesh. It moved towards me as one expects a living corpse to move: with slow jerky movements.
I fled.
And that is why I write this missive from a jail cell. You see I burned down my little house. And then I burned down my shop when the undead abomination appeared there. Then my car. The police arrested me as I tried to burn down the bar that I saw the thing in next. They are sure I am mad, and I may be. Except for one thing.
The man I share my cell with is staring off into space. The kind of stare one only sees in a madman yet he speaks words that sound like truth to my ears. He says one thing over and over in a monotone voice. "Unicorn never leaves. Unicorn never leaves."
