Original story by KSClaw.
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It was supposed to just be another prospector job. A group of settlers had notified the bosses of Roland’s company that they had found a pit with a possible source of oil, of “black gold” as it had become known as among prospectors. If it turned out to be a legit source of crude oil, the settlers had high hopes of being able to build a town in the area and mine the area for its worth in oil.

Nantan, an Apache from the area, was for some reason not pleased when he learned of the assignment. Most of the time, he was pretty stoic when it came to helping Roland and his group with finding their way through the territories, as a way to earn money for his family, but there were times when he balked. This was one of those few times, and while Roland knew that Nantan was no coward (he had seen the man square off against a bear once), he could tell that something was disturbing him greatly about this.

“We need to be careful, friend Roland.” Nantan told him, as they set off early that morning. “A hole like that, in such a desolate area? It’s a bad sign.”

“What makes you say that?” Roland asked curiously, “we’ve been out to find oil wells before.”

“But judging from the map that we were shown, and from what we have heard from some of the people, it is no man’s land.” Nantan replied. “There are tales that my people speak of, stories of how even animals avoid those lands, because there is something in the ground that does not wish to be disturbed.”

“Oh for crying out loud.” One of the other prospectors, Nate, called out, “folks got all kinds of stories about spooky stuff, who says it ain’t something they made up to scare people off?”

Mac, a massive Irishman, snorted in disdain. “Don’t knock it, boy.” He scowled, “I don’t feel too keen about this either. Somethin’ feels off about it bein’ that far out, and even some of the settlers said so. Let’s jus’ try to be careful.”

Roland made no comment. While he didn’t feel the same sense of apprehension that Nantan and Mac were clearly feeling, he felt better about trusting their gut instincts. Besides, in this world you could never be too careful, as his own pa had liked to say.

Roland couldn’t help but admit that both Nantan and Mac were right when they said that something was off. They had been out on the plains for hours, and there had been no sign of life aside from the settlers they had passed by, and that had been ages ago. There weren’t even any signs of deer tracks, or even any birds in the sky. The entire area was too quiet, except for the wind blowing through the grass, and the faint smell of sulfur and petroleum as they got closer to the pit. It was downright eerie.

The pit was massive in size, though the origin for it looked like it had been ground that had caved in from a heavy storm at some point. It was an old cave-in from the looks of things however, so most of the sides were pretty solid, having hardened in the sun over the years. Why that meant that the native tribes kept their distance was anyone’s guess (though to be fair, it was the safer option. Grim experience had taught Roland’s group that there were worse ways to go, than drowning in oil.)

Still, there was at least ground to stand on, and that would be all that they would need to be able to get a closer look, and perhaps test out the crude oil. It would be work that would be over in a matter of moments, and then they could get the hell out of there. Roland, as one of the more experienced when it came to testing oil sources, volunteered to go down into the pit. He got a primitive rope harness tied around his shoulders, while Mac and Nate held on to the rope to help lower him down. Once he was down in the pit, and was certain the ground area was safe to stand on, he’d get things done as soon as possible, and get back up the rope.

But through all this time, it was clear that something was wrong. It seemed as if there was a tense sensation in the air, like the pressure you felt before a storm. Even Nate seemed apprehensive by now, and kept looking around as if trying to see if something would come over the horizon.

But trouble did not come from afar, as the group of prospectors would learn the moment Roland’s feet landed on the ground. It came from the oil. It started as a light set of bubbles, and by the time Roland was down and had untied his harness, it had begun to almost froth like a pot about to boil over. Nantan called a warning, but Roland couldn’t hear him over the sound of the boiling oil.

Roland had just knelt down to take a look at the black substance, grimacing at the powerful stench of petroleum and sulfur, when the center of the frothing mass seemed to burst upwards in a geyser. Roland yelled as splatters of hot oil struck him as he lifted his arms for cover, and he backed up until he felt rocks against his back and his foot slipped, making him fall on his rear end so hard he clacked his teeth. Alerted by the sounds of startled yells he now heard from his comrades, he lowered his arms and gasped at the sight before him.

Standing tall and seeming to be made from the crude oil was what one would first assume was a horse. Oil dripped from its slender neck like a gunked up mane and running down from its face, making you wonder how it was possible for it to even be alive. But what stood out the most, was the long, slender horn coming out from its forehead, between two pale, glowing lights that formed its eyes.

The Native Americans had many words for these beings, that all meant the same thing, but they had come to adopt the name that immigrant settlers had from their own countries of origin: [i]The unicorn.[/i]

Roland had heard stories, of course, even if he’d never really seen a unicorn himself. He’d heard stories from his parents and grandparents, especially his Grandfather who claimed to have known a Unicorn born of the Thames in England. But where they said a River Unicorn could be bribed with food, or a Forest Unicorn would gently guide children who were lost, this Unicorn was one that could never be bribed or safely guide you home. It would sooner kill you dead.

There had been stories of similar oil wells that had been found, only for it to turn out that they were the homes of hostile creatures such as this one. An Oil Unicorn was as mean and nasty, as the very oil it was born from, and from the way it was opening its mouth to hiss at Roland with petroleum steams coming from its mouth and nostrils, it was not going to be merciful in the slightest. It began to stalk towards him, its ears lowered and its tail lashing like an angry cat, flickering oil in splatters everywhere.

“Roland! Roland, get to the rope!” Nate shouted, “its coming for you!!”

As if awakened by Nate’s words, Roland began to scramble to get to his feet, grabbling for the rope desperately. Antagonized by his movements, the black unicorn began to scrape in its oil, making waves as it prepared to charge, shaking its head angrily from side to side. Roland ignored it, trying to focus on getting the rope wrapped around at least one of his arms. Panicking wouldn’t help, he thought desperately, he needed to get the rope around just one of his arms…

“It’s charging!” Nate bellowed and Roland turned his head just in time to see the creature come towards him, its mouth wide open as it let out a shrill screech-

And then his arm felt like it was getting yanked out of his socket, as the rope wrapped around it pulled him upward and away. It wasn’t without a sacrifice however as the unicorn managed to rear up and snap after Roland and caught his shirt, the fabric tearing and almost pulling him back down. Hot oil scalded his skin and Roland yelled in pain, but managed to keep hold on the rope as he got yanked up to safety.

It turned out that he could thank Nantan for his safety. The Apache guide had thought quickly the moment he realized what was going on, and had grabbed the rope to tie it to the saddle of one of the horses. The moment Roland had gotten hold of the rope, he had set his horse off and made it pull up as it would be stronger, and quicker than both Mac and Nate combined.

Roland on his part had gotten away literally by the skin of his teeth. Once the oil had been washed off, he’d been left with a burn that would leave his skin red, but not blistering. It was nothing a bit of ointment couldn’t handle, Mac assured him.

“Where the hell did that thing even come from?” Nate wondered, as he carefully peered over the edge to look down at the Oil unicorn. “I don’t ever recall hearing about them, at least not back in the old country where my folks came from.” The Oil unicorn still remained in the pit, pacing angrily around at the bottom, once in a while stopping to scrape furiously at the ground and snarling up at its onlookers. The piece of Roland’s shirt that it had bit off, was dangling between its teeth, soaked in the black oil.

“It is as much a part of the land, as others of its kind.” Nantan said calmly, as he and Mac set up poles with painted on signs, that would warn others of the danger. “There is old magic in these lands, and the Black Water unicorns are no exception.” He frowned, looking towards the pit, where the oil unicorn gave an angry shrill as it spotted Nate looking at it, though the prospector quickly pulled away and out of sight.

“Other tribes have used oil for different purposes,” he said, “and most of the time we haven’t had any trouble. But when it comes to wells where these beings live, we have always felt it best to keep our distance. Our elders believe that there used to be life, that the Black Water is made of. And that is why it is so angry.”

“How can that thing be alive? It’s not even whole!” Nate exclaimed, “it’s just… one big moving pile of- of goop!”

Nantan just shrugged. “It might be a being that is jealous of living beings, and that is why it attacks anything near it.” He replied.

“Whatever the case might be,” Roland said, “we can’t let any settlers build a town near it. It might agitate it enough, to actually come out of the pit.”

With that said, the prospectors finished setting up the warning signs, and saddled up to head home. There would be no mining for oil in this place. And mercy be on anyone who tried.

The End.