This is a short story based on the book "The Last Unicorn" by Peter S. Beagle. I was inspired to write it after I read the book when I wondered, how the other unicorns had been caught. The unicorn in the story isn't the unicorn, she was caught long before the other unicorn's story started.
I apologize for any spelling mistakes or wrong grammar, as English isn't my first language.
I neither own the unicorn nor the bull nor any other part invented by Peter S. Beagle.
Hope you like it :)
The Unicorn's Defeat
The wood was burning. Trees wailed and screeched as they splintered and crashed to the ground, smoke billowed to the coal black sky, hiding non-existent stars. Animals dashed through the inferno of flames shrieking in fear and agony. And in the midst of all the chaos stood the unicorn, frozen, unable to move, fear clawing at her heart. She was untouched by smoke, soot and flames and even with death and despair raging around her she was so beautiful that it hurt. So she stood there, watching her wood dying, her wonderful wood over which she had been watching since the day she left her mother to find her own way. And now it was crumbling into ashes before her and she could do nothing, for the flames were not real. Cold and destructive they killed everything in their path, but as they were different the unicorn could not touch them.
The earth suddenly shook, ripping trees into the air and throwing the unicorn onto the ground. The smoke turned bloodred and the flames grew even colder as the cause for the inferno slowly stepped through the tangled, burned limbs of the forest, twisted in agony.
The unicorn jumped to her feet, sea foam mane swirling, cloven hooves dug into the ground, awaiting her doom.
The Red Bull came with agonizing slowness, his flamered form creeping like foul mist through the trees. His grotesque head was swinging from side to side, the pale horns ripping through the contaminated air, blind eyes searching for something they could not see. His nostrils dripping hunger sniffed eagerly for the scent of the only thing that remained untouched by destruction – the unicorn.
She did not run, not until the last moment when she could feel the bitingly cold breath of the monster washing over her skin. Then she turned and fled a splash of white in the reddish dark of the night. She was faster than a flash of lightning the land flying past her with striking speed, but the bull was faster bringing with him the stench of death and doom.
The unicorn suddenly knew that she would die. She who was untouched by time, who had slipped by the decades as lightly as through her trees, who would stay young and beautiful and wise forever, as she was immortal and had never even dreamed of the possibility of death. But now it seemed more real than the hard ground, bursting under her hooves from the burden of the bull, more real than even herself.
The Bull roared and the sound boomed through her bones, leaving her desperate and shaking. The cold flames that were the bulls' body suddenly seemed to surround her, dancing mockingly, taunting her, licking at her ankles and singeing her mane.
She cried out in fear and turned on the spot, wanting to flee but finding no way to go. The Bull growled and made her shiver and then there was a way and she fled again, only to find the Bull in her path. Skidding and sliding she avoided him narrowly, only to be caught up again. Jumping this way and that she tried to slip past him. The earth was trembling beneath her hooves, rearing up, crashing down, trying to shake the Bull of its shoulders, but he took no notice, blind eyes seeking for the unicorns' sea foam form, horns slashing, cutting, biting.
The unicorn didn't know how much time had passed until she gave up; it could have been centuries or only a few hours. Shaking like a frightened dog she cowered to the ground, slender ears turned back, surrounded by the sickly light of the bull. He urged her on and with the light of her horn extinct, her head lowered and her once powerful strides reduced to pitifully weak steps she was herded on like a sheep by a shepherd's dog.
No time seemed to pass as they journeyed on, the sky still blodred and black, the only thing showing their progress the fact that the land became dryer and more dead looking with each mile.
The unicorn knew that she wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last to go this path and she was sorry for all those who would pass or had already gone, as sorry as a unicorn can be. She didn't know why the Bull had sought her and she didn't want to know. She only knew that she had lost and that she would now pay the price.
When the sky finally lightend she could see the silhouette of a crooked, evil looking castle, perched on top of a cliff. Birds were circling around the towers. The unicorn could hear their piercing shrieks.
Then a new scent came to her, salty and rough and though she had never smelled it before she knew that it was the sea. Her ears pricked up as she heard the loud, thundering crashing of waves against the shore as though they wanted to rip it into the sea. She hesitated, but the Bull roared and drove her on and so she only got a glimpse of sea foam topped waves before she tumbled down the steep, rocky path to the shore. But that small glimpse was enough to make her legs tremble and her frightened heart race, for she had seen forms in the water, unicorns hidden in foam. So she wasn't the only one? But this didn't give her hope nor did it comfort her, it made her even sadder. The eternal beauty of the unicorns trapped in the sea with no one to see and to marvel at.
The Bulls' impatient growl ripped through her and she nearly broke. With a tiny, mournful cry that made even the waves stir with sadness she slowly stepped into the sea, letting the water swallow her, as the sea foam turned unicorns greeted her with sorrow.