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 |  A folder for my writing August 2017 & July 2016 |
| 902 Words Tyler, the unicorn, climbed the hill and circled the place to get a lay of the land. The house stood alone with no neighbors. “Great!” he said, looking around him and seeing the different kinds of birds on the trees. He admired the richness and depth of color in their feathers and the way they flew around. “It’s so funny! They’re always at their most beautiful just before they die." The windows of the house were dark and the house looked abandoned, except for the tiny schnauzer playing in the yard with a small ball. Tyler approached the Schnauzer. “Hi, little buddy, nice ball you have.” “I mean no offense, but are you a unicorn or a bull with one horn?” the doggy asked. “Offense not taken,” said Tyler, but he was offended for sure. “I am a unicorn, just not the pink, fluffy kind.” “Oh, I didn’t know there were other kinds,” said the Schnauzer. Tyler sighed and cast his eyes downward. These last few months had been terrible. He hadn’t found adequate enough victims to succumb to his powers, except for a few active small beasts like this Schnauzer. He needed a much better, bigger prize. He decided to leave the doggy alone…for now, although the rascal had insulted him. Obviously, nobody knew of a navy unicorn with yellow stripes, and dirty yellow, to boot. They couldn’t have because Tyler was the only one of his kind. Tyler walked around the house, sniffing. He was smelling something he couldn’t wrap his senses around. He cursed at his stupid habit, the need to sniff everything. A habit, which was probably pointless to break at the moment. Who knows, it could come in handy. He counted at least four doors that opened to the inside of the house. He tried two, but they were shut tight. The third one, though, gave way. He walked inside making sure he didn’t cause too much racket with his hoofs. The internal view of the house was disappointing. The ceilings were low, wooden walls run-down, and the furniture, if you can call it furniture, tattered. But it was a large house, and which way to go could be a problem. Tyler sighed. So many decisions to make, he thought. He thought of letting his nose lead him. So he sniffed again and followed the smell all the way to the kitchen. What! There was a beautiful maiden with her back to the door. If Tyler had anything in common with the pink, fluffy unicorns, it was maidens. Tyler fell in love, all over again, his horn following the motions of the maiden as she stirred something on the stove. He was absolutely taken with this one. “What are you cooking?” “Coq au Vin,” said the maiden, turning around to look at him. “How lovely!” she exclaimed at the sight of him. “I wasn’t expecting a unicorn.” “Tyler, Ma’am!” bowed Tyler. “I am not the kind of pink fluffy unicorn people expect, but a bit different.” “Oh, shucks!” replied the maiden. “I am not the kind who notices the colors, first. I am Cynthia. I apologize but I can’t shake your hoof because my hands are greasy with the marinade.” “Cynthia,” said Tyler, rolling her name around his tongue. “What a beautiful name! Fit for a queen!” Fit for my queen! Be it for a very short time! ”Your life, is it perfect here?” “No life is perfect, Tyler,” sighed Cynthia. “But it could be, couldn’t it?” “I doubt it.” “I couldn’t become a pink fluffy, cute, lovable unicorn, for example.” “Why would you want to be, in the first place?” “Because of maidens like you, Cynthia. Maidens that do not give unicorns like me the time of day.” His tone was menacing, and Cynthia probably sensed it. “I think I’ll call my dogs in,” she said, dashing for the door, but Tyler leaped in front of her. “Let the little one play, Cynthia, while you and I play here.” Cynthia turned to him, “What’s with you, Tyler? Aren’t unicorns supposed to reverse poison and purify water only?” “Yes, pink, fluffy ones do. White ones, too. Not this navy fella!” He took another step toward her. Cynthia reached for the hot pan and threw it at Tyler, chicken, sauce, cumin seeds, and all. “Ouch! OWWW!” yelped Tyler, his vision starting to go and his legs buckling. He made it to the sink and turned it full blast on himself. His head pounded like a bass drum and his scalp around his horn turned crimson. “I’ll get her, and I’ll get her good!” He vowed to himself. Cynthia, however, had disappeared. He looked outside from the kitchen window. The schnauzer was running toward the woods, possibly after Cynthia. He opened the door and was about to hoof it after the dog, but an ugly cackle made him look back. “You didn’t expect this, did you, Tyler?” A witch in a black robe and pointy hat was pointing a gun at him. “Who are you? How did you know my name?” “Short memory you have, Buster! Remember your queen, Cynthia? Hehehehehe! You didn’t expect this from me, did you?” “You are no maiden, witch!” “Just like you, I have my colors, too, you unicorn from hell!” “I guess I better take off,” said Tyler heading for the door, but he was too late. Cynthia the witch had already fired the fatal shot. =============== Prompt 1: Pink, fluffy unicorns are apparently very popular. But what about unicorns who aren't pink? And who doesn't have a fluffy personality at all... ~ Story |
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