People were dying, and tensions had mounted in Eastwick. The stories started as idle gossip before spreading to full-blown rumors, catching like wildfire across the countryside as body after body started turning up, impaled.
Men, women, and children were all speared to death where they stood. So many unfortunate souls ladened and holey like fresh swiss cheese. All succumbing to a galloping tyranny, to luminous horns glinting with blood.
Horns that caught the moonlight as they roamed through Crystalline Forest, a goring nightmare lit by the night sky.
The unicorns.
The unicorns had turned on us.
