What shouldn’t exist...
1226 Words
Mia didn’t move.
Not even when every instinct in her body screamed that nothing about this was normal.
Her hand remained pressed against the unicorn’s neck, fingers pushed on its warm, trembling skin.
*They’re going to find you.*
The words echoed in her mind, but they didn’t matter right now.
The only thing that mattered—
Was that it was still breathing.
---
“Who?” she asked quietly.
The man didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, his gaze swept across the dark edges of the mine, scanning shadows like he expected something to step out of them at any second.
“People you don’t want to meet,” he said finally.
Mia exhaled sharply.
“That’s not helpful.”
“It’s all the time we have.”
---
She shook her head, pushing herself slightly closer to the unicorn.
“No. I’m not leaving it like this.”
His eyes flicked to her, sharper now.
“You don’t understand what this is.”
“Then explain it,” she snapped.
---
Silence stretched between them.
Tense. Heavy.
---
The unicorn shifted weakly beneath her hand, a soft, broken sound leaving its throat.
Mia’s heart twisted.
“Hey… hey… it’s okay,” she whispered, her voice softening instantly.
The creature calmed under her touch again.
Like it knew her.
Like it trusted her.
---
The man noticed.
This time, he didn’t hide it.
Something in his expression changed—something close to disbelief.
---
“You’ve done this before,” he said.
Mia frowned. “With what? Horses? Yes. This?” She gestured slightly. “Obviously not.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
---
She looked up at him, irritation mixing with confusion.
“Then say what you mean.”
---
He didn’t.
Instead, his attention shifted to the wound along the unicorn’s side.
It wouldn’t last long like this.
---
Mia made a decision.
“Wait here.”
---
She stood quickly and turned toward her haul truck, boots crunching against gravel as she jogged back toward it.
Behind her, she could feel his eyes on her.
Watching.
Measuring.
---
She climbed up the metal steps, yanking open the side compartment where she kept her gear.
Gloves. Cloth. Emergency kit.
Her hands moved fast, practiced.
“You’re not dying tonight,” she muttered under her breath.
---
When she climbed back down, the man hadn’t moved.
He was still exactly where she had left him.
Still watching her.
---
“Move,” she said, dropping to her knees beside the unicorn again.
This time, he didn’t argue.
---
Mia slipped on the gloves, her movements steady despite the adrenaline still pulsing through her veins.
“Hold its head,” she said.
---
He hesitated.
Only for a second.
---
Then he stepped forward.
Slowly.
Carefully.
---
The moment his hand moved toward the unicorn—
It reacted.
Violently.
Its body tensed, muscles coiling, a sharp, warning sound tearing from its chest.
---
Mia’s head snapped up.
“Stop.”
---
He froze instantly.
---
“It doesn’t like you,” she said.
---
A flicker of something crossed his face.
Not anger.
Not quite.
Something sharper.
---
“Clearly.”
---
Mia turned back to the wound.
“Then don’t touch it.”
---
She pressed clean gauze against the torn flesh, jaw tightening as fresh blood soaked through almost immediately.
“Damn it…”
---
The unicorn trembled beneath her, but didn’t fight her.
Didn’t pull away.
---
Instead—
It leaned into her touch.
---
Mia’s breath caught slightly.
“Yeah… I know…” she murmured. “I know it hurts…”
---
Behind her, the man was silent.
Watching.
---
“You’re not scared,” he said after a moment.
---
Mia let out a quiet, tired laugh.
“Oh, I’m terrified,” she said. “I just don’t have the luxury of stopping because of it.”
---
That seemed to land somewhere.
He didn’t respond.
---
She worked quickly, cleaning what she could, applying pressure, wrapping the wound as tightly as she dared.
It wasn’t perfect.
But it would hold.
For now.
---
“There,” she exhaled softly, sitting back slightly. “That should slow it enough.”
---
The unicorn shifted again.
This time—
It lifted its head slightly.
---
Mia froze.
---
Its dark eyes met hers.
And for a second—
She swore something passed between them.
Not fear.
Not pain.
Something deeper.
Something… knowing.
---
A strange warmth spread through her chest.
---
“What is happening…” she whispered.
---
“You’re connected to it.”
---
She looked up sharply.
---
The man was watching her again.
But this time—
There was no doubt in his expression.
---
“That’s not possible,” Mia said.
---
“It shouldn’t be,” he agreed.
---
Silence fell again.
---
Mia looked back at the unicorn.
Then at her hands.
Then back at him.
---
“Start explaining,” she said quietly.
---
He took a breath.
Like he had been avoiding this moment.
---
“That creature,” he said slowly, “is not supposed to exist in your world.”
---
Mia let out a short laugh.
“Well, it’s doing a pretty good job of it.”
---
His eyes didn’t leave hers.
“No. It’s not.”
---
The weight in his voice made her stomach tighten.
---
“What does that mean?”
---
He stepped closer.
Not threatening.
But not distant anymore either.
---
“It means,” he said, “that something has gone very, very wrong.”
---
Mia shook her head slightly.
“Okay, that’s still not an explanation.”
---
He ignored that.
Instead, his gaze dropped to the unicorn.
Then back to her.
---
“And you…” he added quietly, “shouldn’t have been able to calm it.”
---
Her chest tightened.
---
“I work with animals,” she said. “That’s not—”
---
“No,” he interrupted.
“This is different.”
---
Something in the way he said it made her pause.
---
“What are you saying?” she asked.
---
He hesitated.
Just for a second.
---
Then—
---
“I think,” he said slowly,
“…you’re the reason it’s still alive.”
---
Mia stared at him.
---
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
---
“No,” he said again.
“It doesn’t.”
---
Silence.
---
Then—
The radio on her shoulder crackled again.
---
Mia flinched.
---
> “Unit 7, report your status.”
---
The *real* control room this time.
---
Mia grabbed the radio, her mind racing.
If they came here—
If anyone else saw this—
---
Her grip tightened.
---
“Unit 7,” she said, forcing her voice steady,
“just dealing with a minor situation. I’ll report back shortly.”
---
She clipped the radio back onto her shoulder.
Then looked at him.
“What now?” she asked.
Because whatever this was—
It wasn’t over.
He didn’t answer immediately.
Instead—
He looked at her.
Really looked at her.
Like he was seeing something no one else ever had.
Then he said quietly—
> “Now… you decide if you trust me.”
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