The Human

The bushes do not make a sound as I drift through them. I inhale deeply then sigh out. The woods is where I feel most comfortable, mingling with my fellow hunters, like wolves. It can be a little irritating though, when my nose picks up all these different scents when I have bigger game to kill.

I look over at the closest house, and the silhouette scent is strongly smelling of food. He is dining, and heavily. I edge up to the house side, back gripping the primitive structure. I slide up to the window and break it's lock easily with my front two fingers. I push it up silently and crawl in, closing it behind me.  I see a purple unicorn sitting on a couch, with unkempt yellow hair. He is sitting on a sofa, gorging himself on hay. He is eating it from a plate with a fork, slouching and not looking up. I deliberately stomp once with my foot, only loud enough for him to hear. He spins around and hay slides out from his mouth as he mumbles.

"What the hay are you?"

I grin, and he recoils.

"I am a great many number of things, my friend. Merciful, is not one of them."

Fidgeting around, he wipes any spit from his chin. Not exactly sure what I meant, he is confused and frightened. Wonderful.

He is gripping the fork in his right hoof intensely, like it is a lifeline keeping him from drowning. I walk over to the opposite end of the couch than him, and he squishes himself into the arm rest cushions. Mouth still flaunting my mandibles, I step forward as slowly as possible. He starts to stand up and I shoot forward like an arrow, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him back into the cushions. He whimpers like a child.

"Are you going to... e-e-eat me?" He whimpers out, straining over shock.

I laugh loudly, and he eases up slightly.

"Of course not my friend, you probably taste disgusting," I laugh again.

He lightens up slightly, regardless of the fact that I insulted him. He starts to chuckle himself.

"Of course, that won't stop me from killing you anyways, even if I won't eat your corpse."

He stops chuckling and gulps, looking up at me.

"Yes, I shall do this in the normal fashion. Breaking your neck, and then, for an added bonus, I might take your horn with me as a souvenir."

He continues to stare at me, frightened to the point that his face has gone pale and he is sweating quite a large amount.

"Don't worry, your death will be quick if you cooperate."

I rub mane down his back, sure to scratch the back of his skin with my nails. He bristles up slightly and shudders. I can feel a trickle of blood roll down through his fur, and he can feel it as well. I rub my finger through the blood and pull it up. Stained pure red, I realize I must have cut pretty deep. I flash my finger in front of his face, being sure he sees how much of his life juices has flown onto my hand. I wipe it on his face and put my hands on his shoulders. Pulling him to face me one more time, I lean in and bite the air, threatening to shred him with my incisors. His face is pure white as he stares at me.

"Relax...," I hiss out quietly. "One small twitch and this is all over."

I slash down his chest to his stomach, and he screams. I put my hand over his mouth and look at the damage done. A wide gash goes through his skin, from the same level as the shoulders down to his intestines. I wipe my claws on his fur, and he is choking slightly at the immense pain. I grin at him and whisper.

"I lied."

I dig my feet and hands into his legs and arms, and he is screaming again. I revel in the carnage momentarily before stepping off. I sit down beside him, and he looks over at me, frightened.

"Shhh," I hold up my finger and shush him.

He starts whimpering quietly. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I move them slowly to his neck. I rub my hands around it, and he shivers. I slowly slide my nail across his neck, and it starts to bleed. Grinning, I move my hand to his chin, while moving the other to his shoulder.

"Goodbye."

With a flick of the wrist, his head jerks to the side with a snap, and his body goes limp. His eyes stare off into space, unblinking. I chuckle to myself and stand up. Some people kill for revenge. Others for the loot. Some even justify themselves as doing it for the "glory", as if the victory of a nation is a worthy reason to massacre. Myself? Why, I simply do it for the entertainment. I am not insane, I merely have interesting tastes.

Sighing out the breath I did not realize I was holding, I can feel myself shake slightly, a sensation I have not felt in a while. Adrenaline stops to flow through my veins after a few seconds, and I stand up again. Adrenaline hasn't flowed through me in a long time...

For the first time ever I am alone. I don't understand this feeling, every part of the routine is exactly the same, except that I am in a strange world. I don't like that feeling.

A glint catches my eye and I sway my head slightly to face it. The horn in the middle of this horse's forehead glows unnaturally in the dim light, which piques my curiosity. With a quick snap I yank it off, giving only a slight tug on my arm. Turning it around to inspect it, I see bits and pieces of nerves, along with bone and fatty acids. This horn is it's own brain. I turn it over again and again in my hand. From what I can see the horn on this horse is like a finger. The nerve endings have a sense of touch, and it appears to have some function other than display. The bone inside it was connected to it's skull, and the nerves also connected to the dominant brain.

I slit a hole in some excess fabric on my jacket, forming a pocket. Slipping the horn into it, I cover up the hole and walk to the same window. Looking back for one more second, I jump out and disappear into the night.