Alexander may look like a teenager fresh out of high school, but he is not. He's hundreds of years old. The veil hides his white-purple hair and silver eyes from humans. Without his shapeshifter's mark, he wouldn't look human at all.

      The Unicorn and Pegasus races are elusive and rare to see. They mainly live in villages or heards far from human cities. It's rare for Unicorns or Pegasus to be born male, but Alexander was born into one of these remote villages. He was also given a shapeshifter's mark fairly early on in his life. The mark allows a wilder unnatural to take on a human shape. Lady Moon would not leave her children alone without a way to blend in with the humans. The veil she then created did the rest. There's a circular birthmark on the middle of his forehead where a horn should be.

Alexander was not as shy as most of his Unicorn sisters. He didn't fear the outside world, and even felt restless after the first hundred years in his hometown. He could do the same mundane routine for so long. Not to mention that the ancients, some of the oldest members of his town, were always breathing downs his neck. There's always been strict rules for him to follow. When Alexander told his mom that he wanted, she wouldn't let him leave. He didn't like that much. Alexander was still young and naive about humans. Like any rebellious Unicorn, he ran away.

He was a mythical creature on the run. Most of his kind are born with a vow of nonviolence, and others take it on later, but Alexander had no such thing. The first thug to realize what he was got a quick punch to the face. Unicorn horns are worth a lot, and used in many different spells and potions. Lady Moon blessed her steeds with gifts beyond imagination. The vow of nonviolence keeps that power in check. Alexander was too strong for his own good.

A lot happened in the 200 years before Alexander opened up his bar. Without the vow, he was free to run rampant. The rest of the world was foreign and new to him. Alexander didn't know how much power he had until he started using it on the other unnaturals. Of the remaining races, Unicorns and Pegasus are the strongest.

Alexander's first stunt was murdering an elder vampire. All the other vampires the elder sired lost part of their power and could smell it on Alexander. It wasn't until he killed another that they started to fear him. Killing one vampire is a fluke, but killing two makes you dangerous. Alexander took over the two elder's territories and either chased the other unnaturals out, or made them work for him. He wasn't a very good person back then. His poor mother could only weep at the rumors of his crimes. That's not how Unicorns are suppose to act.

He got quickly bored after securing his territory. The thrill of it quickly turned into work and upkeep. That's not how Alexander wanted it to be. The unnaturals under his command were puzzled when he simply packed a bag and left town.

For 200 years, Alexander simply wanted to cause havoc. He thought it was funny when people trembled at his name. He completely destroyed any unnatural businesses or networks he could find and then vanish. There was one group of human haters that kept asking for him to join no matter how many times Alexander shot their messengers. He didn't care. Humans weren't worth his time or effort.

The worst thing Alexander did was also what opened his eyes to the destruction he was causing. The werewolf drug lord was the only person left standing in his way to concocring yet another city. It was just business. Everyone has a week spot, and for the werewolf, it was his daughter.

Alexander springs after the fleeing figure, twisting through the narrows allies. He's been herding her to this spot for a while now. He's in his human form using the shapeshifter's mark, but he hasn't ran on four legs in years. His white and purple hair doesn't look as enchanting with how dirty and wild it is. He's also wearing all black with two silver blades in each hand. Alexander moves like a wraith. His piercing silver eyes never loose track of his prey. Using magic would end the chase too quick, so he keeps chasing her.

The werewolf girl eventually runs into a dead end. She whirls around to sprint back the other way, but Alexander is already there. He can't help but bear his teeth and dig his heal into the ground. It's been quite difficult to track her down over the last few days. He's already killed four other werewolves that nigh to get to her, and he's wearing their blood.

The girl is crying now, but Alexander doesn't care. He's done this so many times before that he knows exactly how his prey will act. It's better to end it quickly now. He'll be expecting the werewolf drug lord to surrender soon after. There's plenty more opportunities to go after his other children if need be. Alexander lifts both his blades above his head as the girl cowers.

He freezes. At the back of the ally that's right across from him, a cracked mirror reflects his ghastly reflection. His face is still stuck in a hideous snarl with the werewolf girl underneath him. He's never seen it from the other side before. All the blood drying on his clothes now seems disgusting rather then victorious. Alexander is a monster.

Voices make him finally snap out of it. He fumbles to sheath his silver blades and get out of sight. His shimmering core of magic flares up, and he takes a flying leap up the wall of the ally. He lands on the roof of a building and rolls away just out of sight. He stayed up on that roof and listed to the werewolves come and get the little girl. They said so many awful things about him; things that he's never heard before.

Alexander was done after that day. He moved halfway across the world to try and escape his crimes. He even went so far as to take his vow of nonviolence. He can't willingly hurt another person as long as it is in effect.

The unnatural had never thought much about what would come after. He jumped around for a few years before he opened up a bar with all the blood money he had made. It seemed fitting for him to serve other people after what he did. Even in this new city thousands of miles away from anywhere he used to kill, there were rumors of a horned killer. Two silver swords hang above the stools of his bar, but there was nothing solid ever pointing back to him. The patrons were still wary.

And so Alexander's past would be buried for years until a zombie stumbles upon his doorstep in a stolen hoodie.