Blood's Sweet Poison

As I wrote in the description, I wrote this story for Griffin's competition "Picture Prompts," based on the drawing below. As you might have guessed already, the competition was to write a story based on a photo.

Just warning you, this story happens to get very gory and dark and twisted at the end. It's also very confusing. Sorry about that XD. I tried my best, at least. Hope you like :).

He promised himself, above everything else in the entire known universe, that the sound of his hooves thudding against the rocky mountain cliffs was one he would never forget.

The clamor. The beat. The power it created. It filled him with an energy he could never even begin to describe. A joy that swam on the tip of his tongue, danced in the pit of his stomach. He wielded it like the mightiest of all weapons. The sharpest of all swords. He was the best at it, he knew he was. Because he, above everyone else, relished his freedom. Freedom. God, that word was beautiful.

He considered himself a mighty creature. Mightier than the lions that roamed the African safaris, licking their lips as they finished off the blood of their prey. Mightier than the gorillas that beat their chests to show off their dominance to the world. Mightier, even, than the humans themselves, with their shiny machines and complicated, illogical emotions. He was a prideful being, and he held no shame in that. In fact, he glorified it. He was the best, and he knew it, and he deserved to know it. That was the truth, and he did not complicate it. At least when he was not close to the humans.

There was something about those creatures, he knew, that was very odd. Wherever they went, they seemed to emit these distressing, disjointed signals. Signals that he, and all others of his kind, picked up with ease. They didn't mean to, didn't even seem to know they were doing it, but it happened all the same. When he was with them, and only when he was with them, did he feel a strange, strangling guilt for being the way he was. As if he, almost, owed the world for being so sickeningly arrogant. It made absolutely no logical sense. None at all. That was why he preferred to stay away from the humans. He knew from experience that complicating his life was rarely ever a good thing. The simpler the world was, the happier he tended to be.

It was a beautiful day, the day of his demise. The sun was high in the sky that morning, a golden ball of beauty held up only by an army of fluffy, white clouds. The mountains were long and dark and tall, reaching to the heavens in cold desperation and receiving only frosty, white tips in return. The creature, his snowy white hair trailing behind him, climbed as far up the mountains as he dared go, before flying right back down again. He’d long since mastered the art of racing on flat ground, and now it seemed that he could only capture the same joy that it had once given him when he attempted his feat on that rocky, steep terrain. At the very last moment of his run, to avoid crashing gracelessly onto the hard, merciless ground, leapt far into the air, landing on the tall, cushioning grass. He loved that leap even more than he loved the run itself. It was like flying to him. All four of his legs left the ground, his muscular abdomen stretching out to keep his balance in midair, and a sound of complete joy being released from between his own, healthy teeth. How could he help himself? He lived for danger. That was just the way he was.

As the horse’s adrenaline began to slowly seep away, now that he was again walking peacefully on the grassy outcropping, he absentmindedly began to dig his horn into the dirt below him. It moved with ease, almost as if it were eager to jump out of his way, and with amusement he attempted to draw one of those humans. It didn’t turn out well at all—he never claimed to be an artist—but nevertheless he liked it. It made clear their large, round heads. Their skinny, pathetic bodies. Even the silly way that they bared their teeth whenever they felt a sense of joy. They were cute little things, he thought. But they could also be deadly. That was why he had never let them see him, why none of his own kind had ever revealed their existence. Too risky. He didn’t know why, but it just was. That’s what they all had taught him.

When the creature finally removed his pale, twisted horn from the ground, he watched as the lines he made in the dirt glowed blindingly white. It stayed that way for a few moments, and then faded once again to its dark, dusty blur. All that remained was a thin outline of the human. With a quick scuff of his hoof, he washed it all away. Humans. What pitiful creatures.

As he walked, his head held high and his legs trotting straight and firm beneath him, the sun rose high in the sky, marking noon, before beginning to slowly sink back down again. Before he knew it, it was dark, and his bones ached from exhaustion. He looked around. The place he was currently standing in, wherever it just so happened to be, was completely barren. For miles all he could see was grass, and in the distance, those beautiful mountain peaks that surrounded the area, like a giant barrier against the outside world. He thought of his herd for the first time in a while. He had grown up with them in a place like this. Grassy, barren, isolated. His mother had taught him how to run, and jump, and hide, and fight. She had shown him the good foods to eat and the things to stay away from. And all of these lessons merely by example. He followed her lead every step of the way. And when it was time, he left her with pride. She had watched him go, and even with his back turned he could feel her mix of joy and sadness behind him. It was the most complicated surge of emotion he’d ever felt another one of his kind emit, and it made him feel slightly sick to the stomach. He had coped by walking just a little bit faster.

Now, as he settled himself in a patch of cozy grass, he was at the age where he was expected to go back. Find a mate. Make a kid. And then leave again. The females cared for the offspring, the males just helped make them. He’d go back every year, of course, but other than that he could wander on his own. He kind of liked that prospect. It made him feel free. He’d come across a few other males of his kind before, wandering around like himself, but all the females lived in specific, designated areas. They never left, they never could leave. All they were ever doing, it seemed, was caring for their young. But he did not feel any guilt, nor any pity, for those poor, caged souls. It was only nature’s course. And even if it weren’t, guilt wasn’t something he used very often.

The sun had finally finished its daily course, and as it sunk deep into the ground, all the colors of the sky were absorbed into nothingness. Left in their place was a dank, heavy blackness, and a golden, distant moon. Letting the dark cover him like a blanket, the horse slowly drifted off into a shallow dreamland. He liked to sleep. Sleep was nice.

He did not dream often, but on that specific night, a series of strange images began to surge through his brain. It started, it seemed, with him running with his mother on an endless, dusty road. He was small again, a mere foal glowing in the dusk, and he felt within himself the growing sprout of an emotion that he did not quite understand. An emotion that made him want to stay with his mother, follow her to the end of time itself. When she turned to him in the midst of running and licked him kindly behind his ear, the feeling only strengthened. It continued as he ran, only halting once a rough, stone wall bloomed on the path right in front of them both. For a moment, his mother was still. Then she hopped the intrusion, and so did he.

On the other side stood a group of blank-faced, squishy humans. Immediately, he backed away in fear, but his mother did not. She approached them, and in an instant they had surrounded her. They stuck out their hands and rubbed her hair all over, the way they did with the mangy animals they liked to carry around, and his mother nearly purred with pleasure. He could feel it—the joy—carrying out through her, to the humans, to him. For a moment, he was calm.

And then, without any provocation, the transformation began. The creatures, as small and innocent as they were before, began to grow in size, their upper arms becoming thicker and wider and stronger. Their once white, flat teeth turned sharp and deadly, and they yellowed with disease as their gentle eyes glowed red. The soft features of their face morphed into something horrible, something deformed, and now they were no longer so innocent. No longer so harmless and joyful and calm.

With their newly formed fangs and evil, burning eyes, the monsters descended on his mother. They tore into her with their teeth, ripping her apart with dirty claws and munching unforgivingly on her limbs. He watched in horror as she began to struggle against them, writhing on the ground in hopelessness. Her purr of joy turned into a whine of pure terror, and he had just stood there, backed against the wall, crying out for her in desperate huffs. And in that last moment, as she had finally fallen to the ground, the creatures having nearly completed their task of ripping her to shreds, she had looked up at him. Her face was covered in a flowing red liquid. One of her eyes had been ripped from its socket. The other was a masterpiece of hopelessness. Run, it whispered to him, without any words, run.

His dream faded into blackness, and from then on he would remember none of it.

When he awoke, drops of perspiration clung to his watertight skin. His heartbeat was fast and unusual, his breathing loud and unsteady. He didn’t know why.

Whatever questions he might have had were singed up and burned away once he lifted his head. He saw something he’d never thought possible. Something that made his heart stop altogether, his eyes go unblinking. All thoughts were immediately erased from his mind. He was blank.

There, mere inches away, was one of them. Small, soft, squishy. Her legs and arms were short, screaming adolescence, and her eyes were wide and curious. They were blue. So, so blue.

It was a human, if he’d ever seen one. A human child. She was draped in fabrics that matched the color of the sky, and the little hair that she had was long and dark on her head. He’d never been this close to one before. They looked… strange like this. Very strange.

The girl just stared at him for a few moments, her eyes wide and her mouth agape. After a minute, however, the shock seemed to have worn off.

“Mommy!” the girl yelled, loud and piercing, pointing in his direction, “It’s a unicorn! I see a unicorn.”

Suddenly, for no logical reason whatsoever, the horse was struck with a sudden pang of terror. The human was edging closer to him now, closer and closer, and he felt so unprotected, so bare. She was dangerous, deadly. He needed to get away.

He felt his entire being vibrate as his throat emitted a low, desolate growl. He got up and crouched low from his spot on the ground, ready for any move his enemy would make. Ready for anything.

“Unicorn!” the human shouted again. She was so small, so innocent looking. Lies, all lies.

It was when she descended on him, a tiny hand outstretched, that he lost it. She bared her teeth, and in his mind they turned to fangs. Why fangs, he had no idea. But that’s what they looked like to him. And so he attacked.

He stuck out a leg, long and thin and flexible, and watched as his hoof pounded against the human’s chest. She flew backwards, as if a string were attached to her backside, and landed on the ground, out of breath. He stood there in silence for a few seconds, watching in horror as she opened her mouth and began to release a long, high-pitched cry. The sound shattered his eardrums. His entire body seemed out of his control.

Barreling towards her, his head pointed in her direction, he released a series of loud huffs. He had to shut her up, make her stop. When he reached her shaking, crumpled body, he did not hesitate to bring his horn upon her, burrowing it down into her tiny chest.

She was gone on contact. He could just feel it. The explosion of her heart, the failure of her body to survive without it. Time stood still as he stayed in that same position, the girl still speared beneath him. Her mouth, agape as if she were still gasping for air, began to glow. A searing, blinding light surging out of her skin. Quickly, the horse pulled his horn out of her chest, and the light stopped. Now she was dark.

He looked once more into those blue eyes. All he could see was how empty they were now. So, so empty. He tasted blood on the tip of his tongue. Her blood. It must have spattered him when he had butchered her. Slowly, unable to stop himself, he swallowed. He felt a trickle slide down his throat. It somehow tasted sweet and bitter all at the same time.

As he sped away, not daring to look back even for a second, he still tasted her blood in the back of his throat. Still saw her empty eyes in the corner of his vision. They did not leave him. He doubted they ever would.

He felt dizzy now. The sky spun above him and the ground cracked beneath his feet. He couldn’t comprehend what he had just done. He couldn’t comprehend anything. So he did what he did best. He ran. As far and as fast as he could.

Something was wrong with his vision. Everything kept going in and out of focus, brightening and darkening in an endless cycle. He tripped over a stone and toppled onto the ground, his body sliding on the dirt. He struggled to get up again, and then continued, stumbling along. Not knowing where to go, just sure that it had to be somewhere far, far away.

He wasn’t sure when exactly he noticed the change, but one moment he was bounding through fields of lush green, the next he was standing stalk still in a mountain of brown, limp bristles. The air itself had seemed to change, losing its clear, free quality, becoming dark and dank and heavy. It almost hurt to breath it in.

Even as he looked down at the grass beneath his hooves, he knew something was watching him. He sensed its presence, the glare of its eyes pressing down on the top of his head. Its very existence, it seemed, was dark and heavy and evil. Evil so strong that it was almost palpable. He didn’t want to look up at it, but he knew he had to. Had to. There was no other way.

When he lifted his head, he couldn’t help but jump back a good five feet. His heart stopped for what could’ve been the fifth time today, and his mouth dropped open. He’d never seen anything like it before. Except maybe he had. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t place why.

It was a creature like him, except it wasn’t. It had four legs, and a strong torso, and a head with two eyes and two ears and a horn. But that was where the similarities ended. In place of his pure, white fur, the creature was a sickly red-brownish color, nearly black. Its skin was cracked and crumbling and looked almost like rust. Like it was some sort of dead, decaying organism, buried deep within the ground, to be returned to the earth. He could see it’s ribs sticking out of its side, and its hair hung dry and lifeless on its head and tail, tangled and corroded into any ugly brown color. It munched on something gory with large, buck teeth, died pink with blood.

He stared at its eyes last, almost as if he were avoiding them this entire time. He knew they were eyes, they had to be, but they were far from anything he had ever seen before. More than anything, its eyes looked like white, glowing orbs. They had no pupils, no anything. Just blank marbles stuffed into the creature’s socket. He did not understand how something so plain and empty could hold so much evil, but somehow it did. He could sense it, he just didn’t know how.

He could have been there for days, staring lifelessly at the monster in front of him, unable to move a muscle. He could have, if not for the small, nearly inaudible sound that arose from the creature’s bloody meal. Somehow he knew what it was before he glanced at it, could tell just by its small emission of pain. But he looked anyway. He couldn’t stop himself.

The girl. She lay there on the ground, her limbs stretched out at awkward angles. Blood ran down her colored cloth, matted her hair, danced out of her nose and mouth. There was a clear hole right in the middle of her chest, redness seeping through as thick and sweet as honey. The creature was currently digging into the softness of her stomach, sucking up her intestines like spaghetti, licking the blood from its lips as though it were sauce. The girl should have been dead, but she was not. She still moaned on the ground, making silent please for help. But the horse knew that there was no helping her now. It was too late. He wished that she would just suffer in silence, and free him of the strangling guilt he never knew he had.

Simultaneously, both the girl and the creature lifted their heads, turning their eyes towards his. The girl’s were so, so blue. Full of pain and hopelessness. And the creature’s were white and blank and evil. He watched, partially in fascination, partially in horror, as something began to change in them. The blood, it seemed, was turning its eyes red. A dark, heavy, demon-like red. And as they turned, gaining power and life and energy, the girl’s grew dimer. The pain in them faded into nothingness, and soon they were empty. Empty, blue eyes. His heart sank in his chest. He tasted blood.

And then he knew. The creature was him. Him. The monster, the demon, the unholy spirit. All him. What had he done?

The girl began to morph before his very eyes. Her sweet, soft face elongated, growing fur even in the smallest of crevices. Her hands and feet turned to hooves. A tail erupted from her backside. Before he knew it, she had turned into someone he recognized. Someone he hadn't seen in so, so many long years. She was his mother, now, every little detail of her body accounted for. Except for the eyes. The eyes stayed empty and blue, empty and blue.

The creature—himself—was consuming his mother, now. Tearing its teeth into the muscle of her leg and chewing with pleasure, a horrible squishing sound pushing out into the air. She did not struggle, she could not, as she was dead. An expression of pain was on her face, but that was only a leftover remnant from the torture. Evidence of what she’d been through.

He could not move. He wanted to, wanted to turn around and run so badly that he could barely breath, but his hooves were glued to the ground. Cold, slick sweat ran down his body. He watched, silently, as the darker version of himself committed the worst crime any living being could imagine. By the time the creature spoke, his mother had been reduced to nothing more than a pile of unrecognizable tissues and bones. Blood seeped into the soil like water.

“You are a demon,” the creature whispered when it was nearly finished, red eyes glowing with fiery joy. He did not understand what it was saying, it was all human talk, but somehow he understood what it meant. His blood froze in his veins.

“Look at me, you monster. Look at what I’ve done, what you’ve done.”

It hissed the words like a snake, so low and dark and silent. He shivered despite himself.

“Come to me…”

He didn’t want to, he didn’t want to. But he couldn’t help it. Immediately, his legs pushed him forward. They were out of his control, he could do nothing.

“Yes, yes, come to me. Come to me and die.”

He tried so hard to pull away, but watching death had made him weak. He could do nothing but observe the way his body betrayed him. Before he knew it, he was face to face with the creature. With himself.

“Look me in the eye.”

He shut his eyes tight. He would not, he would not!

“DO IT!”

His eyes opened, he could not stop them. Looking deep into those fiery, endless pits, his knees suddenly felt very weak. He fell to the ground and could not get up.

“Good, good.”

The creature sounded very happy. Very, very happy. It was terrifying.

“Now you can come into me. Be me. Don’t fight it. Let me in, let me in.”

He lay there, lifeless, as the creature slowly walked forward. He felt its hot breath on the back of his head. Felt fresh blood drip onto his pure, white fur, tarnishing it with filth. The creature leaned closer, lowering its head, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He knew what was about to happen next. His body went limp.

When the creature dug its blackened horn into the soft flesh of his neck, everything went black.

Ok, just in case any of you were confused, I'm going to do some explaining. So, what I was thinking when I wrote this, was that when the unicorn swallowed the human blood, it poisoned his brain or something (which is how I got the name). This led to him having all these crazy, dark hallucinations, relating to his guilt at killing the girl (and in a lesser way, leaving his mother) and eventually dying. It's a little complicated and strange... sorry if I disturbed you XD. Hope you liked!!!