After a deep and surprisingly restful sleep, you awaken with a start, disoriented for a moment to find yourself in a strange place. You slowly remember yesterday’s events and realize, with equal parts horror and wonder, that they must have really happened. Looking across the small studio apartment, you find your host already risen, seated in the shabby chair and quietly watching you. After saying awkward good mornings, casting about for conversation, you ask Myst how much it knows about the night life of the city and surrounding suburbs. It seems not to understand at all what you are asking. Finally, after a friendly failed interrogation, you start to realize just how little Myst fits into the world of men and women.

Venturing out in search of coffee and some kind of nutrition, because apparently cryptozoological beings also do not stock the kitchen with humanly digestible food, you do some quick research at an internet kiosk at one of New York City’s ubiqitous Starbucks and prepare yourself for an enjoyable night in the big city. You are determined for tonight to be the restart of your random trip to Manhattan. You might have a lot of problems waiting for you back home, but it would be best to just recover your sanity and understand a little more about the hidden world that the unicorn has revealed to you before sinking back into your monotonous life.

Later, after a quick, but expensive, shopping trip, you dress yourself in some more appropriate attire for a night on the town. Not long after, you and Mysticalis are riding toward the excitement of a renowned club in the center of the city. Fortunately, the cab driver is not the same one that picked you both up in the freaky crazy night previous.

You keep a tight, paranoid hold on your belongings as you step out of the cab and head up to the doors of the club. The line to get in is rather long. You stand there with Mysticalis and wait patiently in silence. The groups of men around you that are obviously here together laugh and high five each other as they talk about their sexual conquests and experiences at the clubs. The nearby groups of women, who are obviously friends, whisper dark secrets and criticisms of the other groups in line and gossip loudly about co-workers and family.

The silence between you and Mysticalis grows a bit awkward, surrounded by so many ongoing conversations. You finally decide that you just can't stand here quietly anymore. You poke the unicorn and it gives you a quizzical look. Its mask, looking so incredibly real and human, now that you know what is underneath, is almost disturbing to you. At least you have seen the truth of the face that truly stares out at all these unsuspecting people.

You start, "So... you've never been to a place like this before?"

It shuffles back and forth in place a little and then makes eye contact with you, "I have been to places like this, night clubs, gentlemen's clubs, and others."

You laugh a bit briefly teeth clenched, "Okay, I thought you said you didn't know about the night life. It sounds as though you are rather experienced with it."

It shrugs and the heavy cloth on the shoulders is so stiff that you have a difficult time even noticing the shrug, "I know little about the night life. However, my agenda for being in attendance at those places was different from the agenda that the people of those establishments had."

You finally make it to the front of the line and when the bouncer looks over Mysticalis's outfit, he just shakes his head. "There ain't no way I'm letting you in here with a medieval outfit like that. Jesus, that's worse than sports apparel."

You look Myst up and down and wonder how you never really took much notice of the archaic looking robes. "Don't you have any other outfits you could have worn tonight?"

It shakes its head, "Not really. I prepared for the colds of this clime."

The bouncer motions out to the side walk as he pulls back a rope, giving you a clear shot out of the line and away from the club. You just sigh as you step out of line. Myst follows.

You walk down the side, trying to hide your irritation. You know you aren't doing a very good job of concealing your disgruntled attitude, but Myst actually seems rather clueless to your non-verbal signs.

"How do you usually get into these places?" You ask after turning and walking down several blocks and toward another grouping of hopefully less snotty clubs.

"I can avoid their notice somewhat if I so choose. They only notice that I'm there, and they do not tend to notice much in the details." It says as it keeps easy pace with your quickened annoyed steps.

You groan audibly, "Okay. So we could just go back there now, right?"

"Well, not exactly. He has already taken notice of me this day, so he will probably have a strong memory of me. It’s a little more delicate than that. We can go to any other place that you wish. I shall concentrate while we approach the guardian of the establishment."

"Guardian? No... bouncer. Got it?" It looks at you with a side turned head and you just sort of resign yourself to the fact that you have a lot of teaching to do. What if after you spend some time with Myst it takes a liking to you and comes home with you? That would be a big spark of excitement to your ongoing life. Your imagination wanders as you picture this creature of unearthly beauty living with you.

You spot a club that looks moderately promising. After successfully negotiating a substantially shorter line and gliding past the bouncer without meriting a second glance, you and Mysticalis step into what would definitely not be your ideal establishment. But, still, you are determined to have a good time. You will make up for this little squabble that you have with your new friend. You immediately shuffle your way through the thick crowd and make it to the gaggle of people around the busy bar. You notice a sign on the back of the bar with specials for shots of vodka and easily make up your mind to loosen up a bit with at least one shot.

You order a second of the same shot for Mysticalis, curious to see how it will down a shot without revealing itself. You hand it the little plastic shot glass filled with chilled, clear vodka. You hold your little shot out to tap the plastic glasses together with an unsatisfactory clack that just doesn't have the same resounding tap that glass on glass does.

You tip back the shot and watch Myst curiously as it looks into the depth of the liquid and then emulates your motion. The vodka quickly disappears onto the lips of the mask and down the throat, looking just like a normal person swallowing and wincing at the taste of a sharp, cheap product. The creature immediately begins to cough and wheeze, as if it’s the first time it’s ever imbibed the strong spirit.

After a quick order of another longer lasting drink, you walk out toward the dance floor with your crowd tolerance much greater than before. Myst is still coughing and wheezing from the vodka shot.

You laugh as you pat it on the back and give a little rub of reassurance. "Let's go find some dancing space."

"Dance in a place such as this has always confounded me. How can ritual be followed and fulfilled with such limited space and such loudness drawing your concentration away from such purpose?" It scratches at its robed side as it turns and faces you on the edge of the dance floor.

You chuckle, "I'm not even sure what you're talking about. How would you dance without the loud music there to drive your movements?"

It does something akin to a curtsy as it starts to sway in a fluid way that should be impossible for a being with solid bones and shape. "It is a difference in philosophy, my friend. The purpose behind those actions between my kind and yours is wholly at odds, but no need to worry, I shall suffice it to say, carry on."

You and Mysticalis sway around the mass of people on the dance floor for a while and you are genuinely awestruck by the magnificent moves that the unicorn can manage. No human could move their body in directions that this creature could. The moves of the unicorn's dance actually bring a taste of lavender and cinnamon to your mouth. That is the only way you can describe it, just plain pleasant and calming.

Looking around the room, you have an easy time of seeing who is actually observant as they are standing there, jaw dropped, just like you are. You even see a group of dancers nearby that are perhaps so in tune with this other worldly unicorn being that their own hips and torsos gyrate in ways you have rarely seen even those times you have seen a professional dancer.

Endorphins fill you with joy and a forgetfulness of the odd events of the previous days. You toss your cup and head toward the bar for another drink, leaving Myst there to continue the entranced dance. You think how the dance might differ based upon various genres of music. It says that the music is a distraction, and yet, you think that it must be subconsciously moving somewhat to the rhythm of the popular song blasting over the speakers.

The crowd around the bar is almost suffocating. The people waiting for drinks and leaning against the bar with drinks already are almost three deep the whole length of the bar. Getting to the bar and ordering your drink are almost a battle to you. You smile as you hand the bartender a generous tip and take a sip of your strong drink before spinning around to return to your spot on the dance floor.

Your walk is brief. A man and a woman, holding hands, both looking like they don't exactly belong in this club, block your path and you slide to a halt. Your drink spills over your hand and splashes the floor.

"Hey! Could you watch it? You just made me waste half of my drink!" You say in a loud shrill voice so they can hopefully feel your irritation and hear you over the music.

The man has a dumbfounded look on his face and a bit of thick drool hanging down from the corner of his mouth. The woman seems to have quite the similar look on one of her mouths.

Wait! You stop and glance back at the woman's face. Yes, she certainly has more than one mouth. The second one is almost impossible to see, beneath the edge of her chin. The teeth flashing sadistically at you, pointed and making the skin around the edge of the teeth bleed.

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You are instinctively alarmed by these two freaky people, er, creatures staring at you with malevolent smiles. You immediately side step them and try to move quickly past them, but they slide together to block your path.

You try a step to one side and then quickly step back and try to move forward. They mirror your motions fluidly. You can just barely see the gyrating crowd around Mysticalis, and you wish that the unicorn would see you or feel your panic.

Finally, you just decide to be aggressive. You throw your drink in their faces and immediately rush forward. You use all of your momentum and strength to attempt to break them apart and push past them toward the dance floor.

The splashing drink does surprise them. Unfortunately, your power is not enough and rather than have them break apart, you are immediately encompassed by their arms. They start to move back toward the bar and turn with you in their grasp. Your feet aren't even planted on the ground anymore.

You are kicking and you start to try to flail with your arms, hitting them in any way that you can. In the loudness of the club, with so many people distracted by their own worlds, you may as well be alone. Your efforts are in vain. Their strength holds you off of the ground and your arms remain pinned as the gaggle of you move out of the main area of the bar away from the dance floor. They seem to be taking you towards a long, dark hallway that is hidden in the shadows in the back of the club. It isn't clear why there is a long, dark hallway in the back of this club, but nobody else seems to notice it.

As they reach what seems to be the end of the hallway, you finally manage to gather enough strength to push off of them. Either that or they have finally decided to let you win the little tussle. You fall painfully onto your tailbone on the hard tile floor.

This area of the hallway is not completely dark, but extremely dimly lit. The overhead lights appear to be almost all burned out, only every third one weakly lighting the area. The bulbs in those lights must not have the proper wattage or your eyes have just not adjusted. The only thing you can see clearly are those sharp, grinding teeth under the chin of the woman's face.

Your head swims in a daze of fear and pain, from these two villains and the impact of your unceremonious fall to the floor, still stinging. "What the hell? What the fuck do you want from me? You spilled my fucking drink and... Oh god. I'm so sorry. Hey, look, we can work this out. Let me buy both of you drinks. Look, I've had a lot of weird shit happen to me lately."

The two of them now stand directly over you and start to lean down toward you. You no longer see the sharp toothed mouth, just a normal girl neck.

You sigh, "What is wrong with me? I swear to god I saw..."

The man and the woman both reach an arm out in a gesture of aid, seeming to offer to give you a lift up.

As you reach up for the assist, you think you see a strange flash, and the woman's head falls into your lap.

You do a shocked double-take. ONLY the woman's head falls right into your lap. It is a nasty gooey mess. "Shit!" You fling the severed head aside and frantically slide back the tile floor using your hands to propel you as the woman's body crumples to the floor.

In a panic, you awkwardly stumble to your feet, tripping over them as your heart threatens to beat its way right out of your chest. The sense of terror from the still cooling blood that soaks your midsection translates to an inability to walk for more than two steps without some sort of accident. You careen into a wall. You knock over two chairs stacked, one on top of the other. You trip on your own shoe and nearly pull it off of your foot. You finally get to the door at the back of the long hallway.

The door feels heavy to your labored, shaking arm muscles. You hear the crack of the bones in your wrist as you squeeze the silvery knob. The cold metal sends shivers down your spine as you turn it and the door slowly swings open away from you to a dark alleyway. You look back over your shoulder, eyes wide in expectation of gruesome gore covering the black and white faux marbled tiles. The chairs form a barrier of plastic, however flimsy and ineffective, between you and whatever violence the hallway contains.

Your eyes widen even further as you realize what happened to the woman and why you have been able to escape this far. A shining point of light from the opposite end of the hallway creates deep shadows around you. Mysticalis, the figure of light, somehow sensing either your peril or the menacing presence of these creatures, stands in the dimness of the hallway. It is holding a deadly and ancient looking sword above its head, ready to strike. The man has gotten to his feet and faces Mysticalis. The back swing of the great sword in its hands catches the fluorescent light behind it, sending the glass fragments shattering over its earthen robes and hood. The man takes several steps back. One dark denim covered leg slips on the expanding pool of blood from the two mouthed woman, but he just manages to catch himself on the wall with one foot still swinging in the air. Mysticalis approaches with the sword still in the air above its head. The blade drags along the flimsy panels of the ceiling. Particles and dust slowly fall through the still air, creating a hazy mist of debris. With only one ceiling light left, you are mystified by the amount of detail you can still see. Though, you notice with fascination that Myst actually glows as if its body has absorbed any light that used to penetrate the hallway. The glow shines from its bare hands and from under the hood.

“The Fuck. Who the hell still uses a god damn sword?”, growls the man. Barely holding his balance, he reaches for his back pocket and pulls out a switch blade. He shrugs in a pathetic gesture, showing the blade, dangling in his hand. “What’s a fella supposed to do with this?” He says with a strangely foreign accent.

“You have made your choice. You’re to die with it in your hand.” Myst prepares to swing, his muscles flexing for this kill, pulling the shining runic sword toward his next victim’s head.

“Wait!” You scream reflexively, noticing that you can’t pull your eyes away from the hall. The breeze blows through the alleyway at your back signaling a path to freedom. Your hand still sits on the cool door knob, though your arm threatens to give way from the significant weight of the door. Still, you find yourself unable to leave the scene with without knowing the outcome.

For the second time in recent memory, Myst allows its trained muscular arms to divert the blade away from a killing blow, instead slashing the white painted cinderblock walls. This creates an ear cringing creak as concrete is scraped by diamond sharp metal. The hood falls back away from Myst’s face and its true visage shines, lighting up the entire hallways as if it was day. The light emanates from the tip of its horn as if it is a beacon of the sun. It stares down the tip of its long, white nose at you, focusing no notice at all at the thug. “Why steady my hand?”

“Why kill? You could spare his life, at this point, who knows what he planned. You are punishing him for... for something he hasn’t even done or done yet. You can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“You just can’t, okay?”

The thug wipes tears of panic away on his black sleeve, looking back toward you, not able to handle the brightness of the light just feet from his face. He presses his body against the wall, weighs the switchblade in his hand, and watches your face.

You nod to the thug an affirmative to give him the signal to run away, hopefully quickly. You even step aside against the cold cinderblock and push the door all the way open with the strength of both your arms.

The man wipes the sweat from his forehead with his long sleeve. He mouths the words thank you in your direction. His body crouches a bit as he prepares to lunge toward the open door to the alley, past you. He looks over his shoulder and right into the eyes of the glowing unicorn and his posture changes instantly.

Even from where you are, you can see a primal fire in the eyes of the unicorn, one you didn’t notice before, though you’re sure the fire had been there.

The thug reflexively tosses the switchblade open with a well-practiced flick of his wrist and stabs wildly toward the unicorn’s face in abject terror.

Watching the scene flashing in front of you like it’s on fast-forward, you realize with some wonder and trepidation that human reaction times cannot compare with those of a member of this ancient species. The unicorn dives under the stabbing switchblade and spins around with a mean swing of the sword. The man isn’t lucky enough to even survive that long as the horn pierces the man’s rib cage and then the sword catches a chunk of his shoulder with a chilling crack. His impact with the wall sends cinder dust about the air.

“Go! Now! We must leave.” Myst runs toward you with an effortless leap over the plastic chairs.

You run until you get out of the dank, smelly alley and to the street front of the club. You only stop running as you grow embarrassed and concerned by the number of people that stare at you, standing on the street corner, smoking before going back into the club.

Your knees start to falter and just about give out from under you. You lean over and grab a hold of your knees. They are shaking with panic and terror.

"Hey, umm... are you okay." A pair of the smokers breaks off from the main herd of nicotine addicts and starts to head your way.

The street light is minimal on the edge of the alley and the street where you stand. You are glad for it as you feel the dampness on your knees. That moment is when you remember and realize that the dampness is blood. Hopefully, they haven't spotted the blood that soaks your pants and the torso of your shirt. You take a heavy breath to try to steady your panic and laboriously wave an arm toward the two smokers.

"Nope... I mean, yeah, yeah I am fine. Don't worry," you huff a big breath, "about me. I'm alright, thanks." You turn away from them and lean a hand against the far building’s brick wall, trying to make it look casual and not give away the real intent of hiding your blood soaked clothes from their view.

"It looked like you have a big cut on your head." One of the smokers, a young black woman keeps closing in on you.

"I'm fine!" You yell louder than you need or meant to. You look over toward the crowd and touch your forehead. You do indeed have a nice gash across your head from some part of the scuffle.

She backs off from your sharp attitude, "Alright. Fine." She looks back to her friend that had stopped a few paces further back. "That's what I get for trying to be nice."

The guy laughs, "yeah, best not to butt in, never ends well."

She tosses her cigarette butt back over her shoulder toward you and shrugs, "Whatever."

You start to briskly walk down the street, consciously making an attempt to stick to the shadows.

You faintly hear wispy footsteps quickening and gaining on you. Your assumption is that it is Mysticalis, as few humans can match that sort of pace with so little sound echoing off of the concrete slab walkway.

As the steps get closer, you finally glance just to be sure it isn't something horrific stalking you. Just your luck that something more would be hunting you. Your short breaths keep pace with your steps, but a certain tension down your back dissipates as you do see that it is Mysticalis.

"What the hell were you thinking?" You say almost under your breath, but loud enough that you know Myst can hear your words and sense your aggravation.

"I wished to save your life," it says obviously oblivious to your aggravation.

"I need to get cleaned up right away, before I get sick," just as you're saying these words and trying to shake the blood off of your hands, you feel knots turning in your stomach.

"I shall distract the convenience store clerk, go clean yourself in their bathroom."

"Don't order me around, I'll make my own choices!" You continue walking briskly and do not give it the benefit of a glare.

Myst turns and enters the very next open store and walks straight toward the counter. Despite your outburst, you take the opportunity to slink into the back and enter the bathroom just as another patron is leaving it.

The woman there looks as though she is about to go out to a nice club, dressed like a little hussy. You groan, "just don't go to The Pyramid, you'll fucking regret it."

The woman exhales and puts a hand over her mouth in shock by your appearance, the blood and your aggressive, yet useful comment.

"Uh, thanks..." she says as she starts to half skip to the door, looking about the store with paranoia.

You close the bathroom door and flip the lock, usually just for privacy while you pee, but now to give yourself a moment of calming respite.

You start the water and before it can warm you start to frantically splash it on your face, trying to clear the blood from your head wound. You grab square after square from the paper towel dispenser and try your best to dab out some of the blood from your sleeves and your pants.

After several frantic minutes of clean up, you stare into the mirror and see a disheveled person that you wish was someone else. Your hair is a wreck, sweat and water drip down the sides of your face, and dark bags under your eyes reveal your lack of remaining adrenaline.

You meet Myst outside of the convenience store, the knot in your stomach and nausea still distracting your full attention. Fatigue carries your lead feet toward the subway.

"Let's get back to your place. This city is going to fucking kill me."