Warning: This story contains some violence and gore.

The events in this short story are entirely fictional, and therefore don't have to make any logical sense (like mental damage due to surgery). It is merely something I wrote for fun, and also as a sort of statement against Animal Testing and the ill effects it has most of the time.

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The large, mainly black, equine stood on the hill that marked the tree line of the forest. He stared out to the large, open field before him. Then he looked past the grass and narrowed his reddish eyes at the sight of the houses of the small town. Humans lived there. He hated them. All of them. Children, especially. It was all that little girl's fault...

“Daddy, is that my pony?” the little girl asked, her brown curls bouncing as she looked from her father to the oddly-colored horse in the testing lab stable. She looked excitedly at the large Freisian-Lippizan mix with the freshly implanted Gemsbok horn in his forehead.

“Yes he is, sweetie. And as soon as he's all recovered, he's yours to take home,” the company owner replied, admiring the glorious work his scientists in the genetic experimentation department had done. The first successful interspecies implant ever done in the thirty or so years since he had founded the labs.

The equine inside the cage-like stall glared at the human male, hating him for what he had ordered. Then he turned his attention to the little girl and flattened his large, furry ears back against his massive head. So, he thought, this is all her fault, is it? It had to be her fault. All of it. His head ached terribly, his vision blurred every now and then, and he wasn't able to stand quite yet. Furthermore, after the surgery, his food had somehow begun to taste and smell bland, terrible, even. He had stopped eating it several days before.

He shook the memory away and then winced at the sharp pain that arose from the base of the horn that had been implanted into his forehead. Grey hooves clattered against a rock as he staggered and leaned against a tree to regain his footing. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and then opened them. He had learned that this act relieved the pain slightly.

It was dark out. The former horse's eyes didn't pick up any movement or outlines in his stall. He was lying on his side on the cold floor, staring off into a black void. It hurts, he thought. Why does it hurt? I can't eat... I'm starving. He tried to move. It hurts! He relaxed the tough muscles in his neck and a sigh escaped his large, powerful lungs. It wasn't long before his ears picked up a slight tapping sound with a slow, steady rhythm. It became louder, and then stopped at the gate.

“Are you still alive in there?” a smooth, deep voice asked. The equine tried to lift his head and then grunted.

“Who's there?” he asked weakly.

“Ah. You're still alive, after all. Stay where you are and don't make any movements that will attract the humans,” the voice replied. “I'm here to help you out. I've seen what they've done to you and how you're suffering from it. It isn't right. I'm freeing you.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Benjamin. I'm from a few cells down. I saw you walk by three days ago as a horse, and then I saw them wheel you back in a large cart with that monstrous antelope horn protruding from your forehead,” the other creature replied. The voice sounded as if it were moving back and forth.

“Where are you going? How are you going to free me?” the artificial unicorn asked, forcing himself to stand. He slowly looked around and took a few steps, eventually bumping his chest against the iron gate of the cage-likc stall. “Where are you?”

“Calm down. I've found the lock. Now if I can remember correctly, all I need to do is...” Benjamin's voice trailed off and after a few slight clanging noises, a light click was heard, followed by what sounded like metal hitting metal.

“What are you doing?”

“I picked the lock with my claw. I'm trying to hit it off your-” he stopped speaking for a moment as the lock clattered to the floor. “-gate. Now follow my voice and push the door open. I see you have hooves. Please try to walk quietly.”

“How can you see in the dark?” Edgar asked, walking where he was told and pushing open the gate. “Walk into that patch of moonlight from the window so I can see you.”

“Just follow my voice. We have to walk through there anyway to get out of here. Now come on.” Benjamin's voice started slowly moving towards the light. “And may I ask what your name is, sir?”

“Edgar,” he replied. He stopped walking as his rescuer passed through the moonlight. He's a... tiger, he thought. Have I walked into a trap? Is he just going to eat me when we get to a certain point?

Benjamin looked back at him. “Don't worry,” he said. “I may be a huge, meat-eating cat, but I'm not going to kill you. These damned humans have put us both through very similar pain and suffering. You deserve a chance at as much of a normal life as you can get. Now come on, I have two more escapees waiting for me near a door we managed to push open.”

The cat's words made sense to him for some reason. He wasn't sure if it was the mental damage that the implant had caused, or if he had really trusted Benjamin at that point, but he took the risk. There, at the door, he saw two cheetahs sitting against it, holding it open slightly. One was slightly taller and darker than the other. His dark brown eyes seemed to pierce the darkness of the area, scanning for any sign of life that proved threatening. The black collar around his neck held a red stone that glinted from the moonlight. Edgar had learned his name was Lecter, named after a famous television and novel serial killer, Hannibal Lecter. He had also learned that Lecter was the fraternal littermate of the slightly smaller, lighter cheetah, Kramer, who was named after another fictional killer, Johnathan Kramer. This one had more of a yellow tint to his fur and medium blue eyes. His collar was red with a black stone.

Benjamin stood on his rear legs and pushed the door open before walking out. The two brothers did the same and Edgar narrowly ran through the opening as it started to swing closed. All three ran to the forest, whose border was slightly over a mile from the secluded lab...

Edgar continued to scan the small plain before him, standing guard as he had been told by Benjamin. He was to scan the area, and if he saw any humans coming towards the forest, he was to return to the three cats and they would all leave the area immediately. He yawned and looked around boredly, his knees locked in place in case he were to fall asleep. A light breeze picked up and his nostrils flared and his velevety black ears flattened against his head when he picked up the scent of a human. He looked around quickly, and his eyes picked up the approaching figure.

He was about to run back to warn Benjamin, Lecter, and Kramer, but then he noticed that it was merely a child playing in the grass and picking flowers. He tried to get a better look at her and narrowed his eyes. It's her... he thought angrily. This wasn't just any little girl, this was the little girl. The one who wanted a unicorn for her birthday. The one who was at fault for his pain, suffering, and for the fact that he didn't have a taste for food anymore!

Rage took over. He whinnied and lunged down the hill, nostrils flaring, chest heaving, and heavy, large hooves slamming against the spring earth. The girl looked up and saw him. She smiled widely at the sight of her former birthday present. “Pony!” she shouted. She stood and ran to greet him with her arms opened to hug him.

Edgar lowered his head when he neared her and continued to run. His vision blurred in and out, and he narrowed his eyes to keep it stable. A few seconds passed, then a sickening sound filled his ears, followed shortly by an impact to his forehead and something warm running down the white blaze running down the middle of his face. He stood still, panting a bit, and blinked his eyes a few times to clear his vision. He dipped his head a bit, and then felt a weight come off of it and hit the ground with a dull thud. He looked at it and gasped a little.

The girl was on the ground, dead, with a gaping hole in her throat. Edgar's jaw dropped a bit as he stared at the body. As he was about to leave, some of the warm, metallic-smelling liquid ran into his mouth from the side of his face. It hit his tongue and he closed his mouth. That taste... It's... It's... Amazing. Why? I've tasted blood when I licked my own wounds before, but why now?

I don't care. It's good. He stopped questioning himself. He knew the monstrous growth sticking out of his head was to blame for his mental changes. Something was wrong. But, that thinking was going to have to wait. Something told him that the taste of the blood and flesh wouldn't be as desirable if it were cold...

Fiction: 07/27/09 | Posted By: Die Before I Wake | 6 comments | Personal