Dream, July 2013

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

A feverish dream I had during my first night in India. Caused by stress and heat no doubt, the impression it made was strong and I remember it clearly still today.

I was in a palace, My mother was holding me as the mob outside was breaking through the door.

I was her last surviving hatchling, we were not quite human. Our snake eyes gave us away as people being able with certain attributes belonging to snakes, such as immense strength hidden under sleek beauty, and a triggered appetite for the hunt if ever we taste blood. Our main prey was humans.

The humans outside believed us to be inherently evil, I know we are not. It is just that if we get the taste for blood, we will get addicted, we will be lost.

Not only to morality and to our hunger, but also to our heaven. Those humans can repent, they have unlimited amount of chances - but us snakepeople. We only get one chance to live a good life, then we are forever lost.

The mob manages to break down the large wooden door, shattering as it hits the beautiful shiny floor in our palace.

My mother fought them in her human form. She was beautiful, tall dark haired and with a golden dress.

She did not want to hurt them, but she maimed them utterly. The ones who were lucky got their throats sliced. Still, they swarmed her.

She told me to escape, using a seecret passageway that would lead me to safety and kinsfolk.

I saw one man heightening his pitchfork for what would be a lethal blow, I stabbed him. I stabbed him and sunk my razor sharp teeth in his throat, pulling out his adams apple as I went.

My mother must have sensed what was going on, because I did it without a sound and she had her back turned towards me. Letting out a heart shattering "nooooooooooooooo".

The rest of the mob fled, head over heels. I had saved her, I had saved us.

She turned to me, her face contorted in rage, panic and desperation all at once.

I saw myself as the savior of both of us.


She saw that I had become a monster.

The same monster she had become so many years ago..

The same monster she was ready to die, to prevent me from becoming.

We were in the middle of the great hall, bodies strewn around us.

We had survived.

Yet, she pulls out her knife, a golden handled knife with a gleaming silver blade.

She holds me still with her tremendous power and begins carving at my face as she weeps, she removes it entirely before she offers her own soul by pushing the knife into her heart.


I hold no anger towards her, it is just the way it works. When she carved my face off, and offered her soul. That was a magic known to few of our kind and none of other kinds.

It was an attempt. An attempt to save me by having maimed me forever, knowing that I would suffer throughout my life as a maimed man, and putting her own soul on the plate of the gods. Hoping that they would not just take the both of us - as is their right.

Submitted: August 13, 2018

© Copyright 2021 RQBBAN. All rights reserved.

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