Volume 9: Eclosion

Issue 8: Unicorn

Florian Reyes Honeywell

By Roach

“What the fuck is that thing?” Vorpal gasped.

That thing which had emerged into the atrium, where dozens of students scattered around its alien, vaguely equine form.

Stagehand laughed bitterly. “Welcome to Chapel High.”

“This isn’t… This isn’t your doing, is it?” Vorpal said, narrowing their eyes at him.

Stagehand silently shook his head as the cacophony of screams continued below us. Vorpal’s expression changed from suspicion back to wide-eyed horror.

“It looks like…” Spindle caught her breath, “…some kind of unicorn?”

While the mythical fairy tale-creature wasn’t the first thing that came to mind, I could sort of see what she meant. As the thing swung its head back and forth, the foot-long horn on its forehead sliced the air before it. If it weren’t for its bluish skin and too-many legs—all six of them spindly and segmented—I could see the comparison.

“That’s the ugliest fucking unicorn I’ve seen in my life,” Vorpal said.

“How many unicorns have you seen, exactly?” Stagehand said.

The “unicorn” charged forward, each one of its movements somehow jagged, maybe stilted—like a marionette. But, unlike any doll, it moved at a deadly speed.

“Whatever it is,” I said, “we need to—”

The monster came to an abrupt stop. It halted in front of the fountain, in the heart of the atrium, when it let out another screech. Yet, as the high-pitched noise sheared the air, I couldn’t see the monster move its mouth at all. Instead, the skin on its neck rippled, revealing a frilled texture—almost like a cicada’s tymbals.

But, even if I hadn’t finished my thought, Vorpal nodded to me and said, “I’ll take care of it.” Without waiting for any of us to respond or react, the vigilante grabbed their hilt with one hand and the sill of the window with the other. The ghostly light of a blade formed from the tip of the hilt. In one swift motion, Vorpal vaulted through the window’s opening.

I stared in shock as their small figure hurtled downward. As they fell, Vorpal plunged the blade into the bell tower's exterior wall. It sliced through the surface like it was little more than butter—but the friction was just enough to control their descent. Within moments, they had made it a hundred feet down. Once they reached the tower's halfway point, the blade suddenly dematerialized. There were still a couple of floors between Vorpal and the ground when they dropped—and landed with surprising ease. Any normal person should have at the very least broken their legs, if not their whole body.

But Vorpal hit the ground running, while Stagehand, Spindle, and I exchanged a dumbfounded look.

The unicorn turned its attention to the vigilante now, forcing me to recompose myself as it charged at Vorpal. Vorpal's blade rematerialized, and they stood their ground as the monster’s hooves clattered against the concrete ground.

“Let's go!” I shouted, turning toward the staircase.

Spindle and Stagehand followed at my heels. As I ran, I could still hear the shrieks of my classmates below us. When I completed the first full circle of the spiraling staircase, I glanced out one of the windows. I glimpsed the flash of Vorpal's blade as it hit the unicorn's horn. But, instead of slicing through it—like it had just sliced the side of the bell tower—the two clashed, emitting a strange, hard to place sound.

I lost sight of them as I continued down the staircase, but I could still hear that strange sound—its timbre almost like a violin, coming in short, rapid snaps.

What the hell was that? Vorpal's blade, or the unicorn's horn?

As I half-ran, near-skidded down the steps, another question occurred to me.

What was Hannah's next class? Where did she go after biology?

Was she safe?

A trail of bees formed behind me as I kept running. When I passed the next window, I stole a glance outside, where the monster deflected another one of Vorpal's strikes with its smooth horn. The vigilante leaped back as the unicorn reared onto its hind legs, before slamming its hoof-like feet into the ground—just where Vorpal had been standing.

Just behind the fight, a group of students cowered against the wall, backed up into a corner.

How long could Vorpal hold the thing back? I tried to do some mental math—to visualize how long we had until we could reach Vorpal—but it was difficult to think of anything but Hannah ending up hurt thanks to that thing. Still, I realized we didn't have time to run all the way down to the basement and find a way outside again.

But there was a shortcut; the same one Vorpal had used just moments before.

Through the window.

I slowed as I completed the next full circle, arriving at another window.

Spindle and Stagehand came to a halt just behind me. “Why are—” Spindle started, before I interrupted her.

“Just go!” Bees escaped my mouth as I hissed the words. “I'll meet you down there.” I leaned over the window. We were still three or so floors above ground-level…

“Don't be stupid,” Spindle said in between gasps of air.

But Stagehand only nodded to me, before he continued down the stairs. Maybe he remembered, too, how I had fallen from the catwalk in the theater. As he scurried down, Spindle hesitantly followed.

Every muscle in my body resisted as I grabbed onto the window sill—but there was no time to think. The unicorn's horn met Vorpal's blade again and again, emitting that strange, high timbre every time. As the creature swung its massive neck back and forth, it started to force Vorpal back. The vigilante dug their heels into the ground, but couldn't hold their stance as the thing pushed them further back—toward the group of cowering students, who let out another chorus of panicked screams.

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I tried to mimic Vorpal's jump as I vaulted through the opening. As I felt my body drop, the swarm surged through me. I lost my grip on the window, and instinctively reached for something—anything—to hold onto.

My fingertips dug into the side of the bell tower. For a moment, I held on, resisting gravity's pull. A searing pain ran through my fingers as I started to slip.

While I couldn't see what was happening below me, I still heard shrieks overlapped by the high-pitched snaps coming from the blows of Vorpal's blade against the unicorn's horn.

But the swarm's buzz drowned all of it out as my fingers slid against the wall, which rubbed off layers of skin and wax as I rapidly descended. A burning sensation ran through my hands as I continued to cling to the wall, my fingertips eroding down to the first knuckle—forcing me to let go.

Bees swarmed my silhouette as I dropped. My arms and legs flailed through the air, and—in an instant—I slammed to the ground.

While I had managed to land on my feet, I only held my footing for a few, panicked steps before I stumbled over headfirst.

A screech cut through the swarm's buzz—the same, almost cicada-like noise the unicorn had made earlier.

I looked up, and—through the cloud of bees—I saw Vorpal. About ten feet away from me, they lay on their side, staring up at the monster while clutching onto the hilt.

Now, the unicorn swung its head back and forth—tentatively looking between Vorpal and I. From up close, I saw its blank, faceted eyes—compounded, just like an insect.

As it eyed the two of us, I couldn't help but think that it was trying to decide which one of us was the biggest threat. Was it… frightened?

Either way, its state of mind didn't matter to me. This moment of hesitation was all I needed, as I now sent the growing swarm its way. Hundreds of bees buzzed toward it.

As the unicorn reared back, Vorpal managed to crawl away—quickly leaping onto their feet.

I found my footing as well; the rush of adrenalin overriding the aches running through my body when I rose.

I surveyed the scene. My bees swarmed the creature, which backed up toward the fountain as Vorpal held their blade up, as if preparing to parry another attack. The vigilante was the only thing standing between the creature and the group of students. From ground-level, I could see that there were about five of them, pressed up against the wall of Chapel High. I didn't recognize any of them, although two were scratching their fingers against the first-floor window, futilely trying to open it for an escape. I saw many more students above them, peering through the windows that surrounded the atrium with wide eyes—or, through the screens of their phones.

I wondered what they were all thinking. Fear certainly, perhaps some amusement… Maybe hope that we were here to protect them?

Or, maybe, they were thinking the same as me. Why did this keep happening at Chapel?

I directed the swarm to the creature's head. If I could keep it blinded, maybe I could distract it long enough for Vorpal to land a hit…

Vorpal appeared to have the same idea, as they briefly met my gaze. I gave them a short nod, before returning my attention to the swarm. The bees now enveloped the creature's head, and plunged their stingers into its skin as they held on. Only the thing's horn peeked out through the cloud of bees. From here, I could see its subtle curve and iridescent shine, with the hint of a fork at the very end—reminiscent of a rhinoceros beetle.

As Vorpal advanced toward the unicorn, its horn emitted a sudden blue glow. A sphere of light appeared around its head, consuming the swarm as it expanded. I expected some kind of sound, but—instead—it was eerily quiet. Then, the light flashed blue.

In a split second, it reached Vorpal, flinging them back. Just as quickly as the light had appeared, it faded—seemingly retreating into the horn again.

My bees dropped dead to the ground, as if they had been fried or electrocuted by whatever that flashing light was.

The thing huffed and panted now—this time, through its mouth rather than the frills rippling across its neck.

Vorpal groaned when they hit the ground. While I had been too far away to feel the impact of whatever that flash was, I noticed a chill in the air around us.

The unicorn charged toward Vorpal's limp form. Behind them, the group of students screamed. A couple of them scattered in opposite directions, but the unicorn’s stilted, marionette-like movements were quicker… It advanced toward Vorpal and the group, forcing the remaining three students back to the wall.

But, to my surprise, the unicorn suddenly stopped. It reared up on its hind legs with a shrieking cry. It desperately looked up and around, searching for… something…

Before I could figure out what was going on, the window above the trapped group of students opened. Spindle and Stagehand reached through it. They grabbed the students and pulled them upward into the school—into safety.

I realized then what the unicorn was doing—why it had suddenly seemed so disoriented. Stagehand must have made Vorpal invisible, or thrown up an illusionary wall.

It didn’t really matter what it was; it gave us an opening to end this.

I nodded once at Vorpal, who seemed to be coming to the same conclusions as me. In one swift motion, Vorpal rushed the unicorn and slashed at it—leaving a deep gash in its side that oozed an ugly blue ichor. The monster seemed to have gotten over its confusion by now and—turning its attention back to Vorpal—deflected their second blow, and their third as well. They wouldn’t be able to last alone, and I felt my throat tighten as dozens if not hundreds of bees pushed their way through. New bees joined the ones that hadn’t been fried by that blue light, and a new swarm formed around me.

The bees descended upon the unicorn, a thousand angry stingers covering its body. It shrieked again in pain, and—as it stamped on the ground—the horn began to glimmer a faint blue; the same blue I recognized from its earlier energy attack.

“Get back!” I urged Vorpal.

They shook their head. “We have one chance,” they muttered, and swung their blade deep into the unicorn’s neck. The monster let loose a hideous gurgle as it tried to flail away from Vorpal—but too late. They groaned in exertion as the blade sunk deeper and deeper into the unicorn, ichor now gushing onto the ground below.

And, with a final push, it was over. The unicron’s head toppled to the ground, its body followed soon after. The faint blue glow on its horn faded away entirely.

Vorpal and I stood in silence for a moment, breathing hard as unicorn ichor pooled around our feet. The vigilante’s blade flickered out of existence as they hooked the hilt back on their waist. “We…” My eyes darted around, checking to see if anyone had come to harm’s way. But the atrium was deserted once again—it looked like the students Stagehand and Spindle had helped through the window were the last ones. “We did it,” I muttered, somewhat dumbfounded.

Stagehand—or, at least, an image of him—popped into existence beside me, eliciting a little yelp of surprise from Vorpal. “You doubted us?” he asked, a little giddily.

I looked toward the decapitated beast, a feeling of unease rolling through the swarm inside me.

Spindle climbed out of the window she and Stagehand had opened to evacuate the students. “I knew you guys could handle it,” she said, joining us.

Vorpal seemed less assured. “Is this a normal school day for you guys?” they asked.

“Pretty much,” Stagehand chuckled.

I suddenly realized I could hear sirens in the air around us—they sounded close, no further than down a street or two.

“We should probably split before the cops show up,” Vorpal muttered.

“Why bother,” Spindle shrugged, stretching her arms above her head. “They’ll probably just give us a medal or something. I mean, two monsters in just as many days? The least they could do is say thanks.”

Vorpal looked at Spindle skeptically, but—before anyone could say anything—the doors to the school burst open. Dozens of cops, all armed with high-powered rifles, poured into the atrium shouting at us. “Drop your weapons!” one screamed. “Put your hands above your heads!” cried another.

The four of us stared at each other in shock, unable to move a muscle, when a more familiar-looking cop emerged. He wore a long coat over a button-up shirt, complemented by a tie. A police badge hung from his neck on a silver chain. Unlike the others, he didn’t have a weapon drawn, but instead held a smoking cigarette in his right hand. Where had I seen him before…

But before I could figure it out, he raised a hand and the shouting cops around us went silent. “You four are under arrest,” he said.