Shawna finally decided to leap out her bedroom window, climb down the tree, and escape from whatever future had been planned for her. She had briefly considered asking John and Mary what was going on, but communication was never a strong point of theirs, not to mention their conversation had truly frightened her.
A wave of nausea hit her, almost bringing tears, but she took a deep breath and held it back. If she let such thoughts consume her she’d never climb out that window. Sinking sunlight brought her back to the present. She had to leave, and soon, before they returned. Her backpack had been undisturbed, so she assumed they hadn’t noticed it. It now bulged with everything she’d need. Her mind ran through the checklist one more time: Money, check. Mary’s jewelry to sell, check. Flashlight, sleeping bag, batteries, food, she checked off a few more things necessary to traveling on her own.
Like a bum.
She shook the overwhelming thought of having nowhere to go, except hostels or bridges, until she figured things out. She hoisted the pack onto her shoulder, determined to face her decision. Even cold benches were better than being carted off by strangers for some unknown reason. It was her life and she wouldn’t let someone else, insane or otherwise, decide it for her.
The unicorn reflected the sunset off its horn as she put it on the windowsill. It was delicately cast in iron with a tiny silver horn and silver hooves. The pose it was caught in, like it was galloping to freedom, made it look almost alive. She thought at first maybe John or Mary had put it there, but she wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t into unicorns, much less horses, at all, ever. Skulls, weapons, and kung-fu movies were more her style, in spite of what her not-parents thought.
They would be home soon.
Go!
She put her hands on the window frame and hesitated.
The diamond cross.
How could she have forgotten about that. It was probably worth a few thousand. Mary would kill her for that one, but it wouldn’t be its monetary worth that would drive her into hysterics.
She’ll probably damn me to a fiery abyss. Fine. I’ll see her there.
She turned to rush downstairs, but the glint of light caught her eye once more. Silver. The unicorn’s horn was silver. Something else she could sell. With the statue in hand, she went downstairs to John and Mary’s room.
“I should have done this a long time ago,” she muttered, dropping the pack as she walked into their bedroom.
There was religious and spiritual paraphernalia tacked all over the walls, partly to hide the peeling wallpaper. The box was hidden under the floorboard with a tree-knot. She yanked it up and reached down to extract the black box. Inside was the large, extremely expensive, diamond-studded cross. It glittered in the orange light like dozens of encapsulated suns. The door had been cracked once, and Shawna had seen Mary pulling it out. She was shocked because she’d never seen anything that expensive, especially not in their house. Why did Mary hold onto such a thing when they could hardly afford food?
The parrot started making a racket, then just as quickly quieted. She would be glad if she never saw a parrot again. She shoved the cross into the bag and nearly had a heart-attack. There were footsteps on the porch.
She held her breath. When no other sounds of creaking boards came from outside, she exhaled. The mountains on the horizon held daylight for a few more minutes, then the house slowly submerged into darkness. More aware of every muscle in her body than ever before, she eased the backpack from the floor.
It felt like someone was out there, watching, waiting. Another board squeaked from the porch. A wave of panic consumed her, and she dashed to the side of the open bedroom door, not wanting to be seen. She knocked something off the nightstand. The fallen object made a loud thud on the worn out rug. Cursing under her breath, she stooped to pick up the iron unicorn.
Something scratched at the front door. She clutched the statue tight. The sharp points of the mane dug into her palm as she waited for another sound. A tiny whimper escaped her lips and she clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to breathe shallowly. She waited a few more minutes, then peered around the doorframe. The scratching noise came again. Her spine tingled as a bead of sweat trailed down it. Tears came to the edges of her eyes as she stared, wide eyed, towards the front door. It was hard to tell in the gloom, but she didn’t see anyone or anything through the front window.
Maybe it was just a cat, or a dog.
She was about to flick on a light when the entire door rattled from a loud, thud! Her eyes grew wider than ever, she choked back a cry of terror, and her whole body went numb. The silence that followed was more terrifying than the noise. With quick trembling breaths, she took a step, then another. The back door was blocked by Mary’s hoarding tendencies, but the stairs weren’t far away. She could make it to her room and out the window. Staring at the front door the entire time and inching as slowly and quietly as possible, she made it to the first step. Her heart was hammering so hard she was sure it could be heard all the way outside. Glancing over her shoulder at every step, her eyes began to make shapes in the murky night.
The stairs groaned under her feet and she winced. Another step, one more step, she was almost there. Her breath stuck in her throat every time she glanced into the darkness behind her. She finally made it to the landing and had to hold herself back from rushing to her bedroom. Quietly, she slid her hand along the railing, transfixed on the darkness below, and only relaxed a little when she finally stopped in front of her bedroom door. She reached out a hand to turn the brass knob, and the front door slammed open. She couldn’t hold back a yell as her heart hammered to the point of exploding. She tried to open her door. She had accidently left it locked from the inside.
“No!” she squeaked in a high voice.
She dropped to her knees and quickly raked her nails across the little piece of wood that hid a key to her room. Something heavy stepped inside, making muffled clicking sounds on the wooden floors. The sound made no sense in her mind, and for a second she slowed her frantic efforts to listen. A dog? The thump and scrape of large claws on wood echoed up the stairwell, followed by a deep growl. Whatever it was, it sounded bigger than a dog and she quickly resumed trying to lift the piece of floorboard. A splinter stuck under her nail. She stifled a painful cry and finally pulled the key from its hiding spot. She heard snuffling noises like it was smelling for her. With a trembling hand she tried to quietly open her door. The key almost slipped from her fingers, and she bit her lip to keep from cursing out loud. Barely breathing, she turned the key in the lock. It clicked like a gunshot.
The animal downstairs went silent, then another menacing growl crawled through the dark. The sound iced through her bones. Huge paws slowly thumped closer to the bottom of the stairs. She couldn’t move. There was a moment of complete stillness, then it leapt onto the stairs and pounded up them. Adrenaline shot through her veins, shocking her into action as she flung open her door and slammed it behind her. She was choking back tears, trying to lock it again. When the creature crashed into the door, she screamed and fell backwards as the hinges popped and splintered. There were scrabbling claws and snarling from the other side as the whole door rattled and shook. Her legs felt like lead.
Move. She demanded of them. Move. Move. Move!
With every ounce of willpower, she half dragged herself to the open window. The door was beginning to break as the beast raged from the other side. A warm breeze cooled the tears from her cheeks when she threw herself into the night. Blindly she cast her arms wide, hoping to catch the tree, but instead crashed into its trunk from her exaggerated leap. The backpack became caught in the branches and yanked her arms back as she fell head over heels. The air was knocked from her lungs. She gasped, coughed, and looked up. The pack swung back and forth in the tree. Her eyes traveled past its pendular motion to a dark mass crawling out the window.
Placing giant paws on the windowsill, it gazed down at her with red burning eyes. Her mind went blank from the s
urreal horror of it all. It raised a massive bear-like head, tusks protruding from its jowls, and a deep screeching roar, like grating metal, erupted from its throat. Shawna’s entire body shook uncontrollably. The monster turned its glowing eyes back to hers. She was gasping and starting to sob. Why were her arms and legs so heavy? All she could manage was to crawl backward, like a scuttling crab, though her mind screamed, run!
Wood and glass splintered and shattered to the ground. The monster landed with a heavy shuddering crunch. She realized she had been holding the statue the entire time. In desperate instinct, she launched the iron unicorn, her last defense. There was a sickening crack as it collided with the monster’s head, making it halt in surprise. It slowly lowered red eyes towards her and snarled. Her heart sank to the stones beneath her.
Her eyes stared into the monsters as it stalked her. The longer she stared at them, the more she felt herself falling into them. They weren’t just red, they were layers upon layers of molten fire. This nightmare come to life was only a few yards away. Its curved tusks, like tusks of some demonic boar, dripped with saliva in the moonlight.
The moonlight, it glowed upon the little statue lying in the dead grass. Shawna did not see the glow become brighter, nor did the giant bear creature. The monster was now only feet away. Flesh was missing along its face and body, exposing muscle and bone, but all she could see were the twin fissures of fire in its partially decayed skull.
There was a flash of light, the ground quaked, and suddenly a large silhouetted shape lifted itself from swirling white flames. The monster howled and leapt away as this dark apparition dropped its horned head and thundered towards it. The beast turned to defend itself, revealing rows of sharp fangs shining like blades, but its attacker was too powerful. Before it could clamp its jaws shut, a silver horn tore into it. Orange cracks fractured along the monster’s body, then it quickly evaporated into a mist and melded into the night. Shawna felt like cold ore herself, unable to move or think. The new phantom turned and strode towards her. She could only make out its dark form from its silver hooves and single ethereal horn.
“They’ve found you. We must leave!”
She scrambled back a little, looking for the resonating female-like voice that seemed to come from all around. She blinked rapidly as if the act would change what stood towering above her. The black unicorn tossed its head.
“Ava,” the voice said.
This time she understood it had been the unicorn speaking, though no audible sound had issued from it. She stared at this bewildering phenomenon before her, awestruck and frightened.
“Ava,” it said into her mind. “There will be more. They will kill you!”
“What?” she whispered dumbly, still staring in disbelief.
“We cannot delay. Get up. We must leave!”
The unicorn snorted, laid its ears back, and suddenly grabbed her shirt with its teeth, lifting her to her feet. She yelped with surprise and stumbled.
“Get on!” the unicorn bellowed.
Shawna felt detached from her body, her mind drifting away from a reality–or a dream–she couldn’t comprehend. The unicorn was speaking again and stamping the ground, but her dazed mind didn’t hear it. Her eyes blankly stared past it to the shadows moving around the edge of the house. The shadows looked familiar. For a second she thought they were John and Mary, but they were moving oddly. Their movements were jerky and erratic. A blood-freezing screech ruptured the momentary peace and ripped Shawna’s mind from its sanctuary. She finally let out a scream as the moon revealed two emaciated human bodies with red eyes. They shuffled and lurched forward, making shrill shrieking inhalations. She felt paralyzed as they reached skeletal arms towards her, emitting strange hissing sounds from behind lipless teeth.
The unicorn knelt down. Whether it was all a dream or not, Shawna leapt onto its back. In an instant they were galloping, pulverizing the parched earth beneath drumming hooves. The world began to stretch as if sucked into the unicorn’s raven coat. She felt vertigo, her vision swirled, then darkness wrapped her in a fainting embrace.