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Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Is it weird to miss being a dark mass of tendrils?

'Well, I can change back, but it wouldn't really help, since I'm stuck in the belly of a 3-and-a-half-meter viper, you know?'

'And what kind of reptile is even awake in this freezing and unforgiving cold?'

{The kind which hates being woken up by small rodents, perhaps?}

'Oh, shut up, I was just trying to find shelter... well there is a positive in all of this'

{Let me guess, the poor viper got a last midnight snack?}

'What? No! … well, yes, you're right … But that is not it!'

{And? What is it then?}

'It's just that, I'm already cold hearted apparently, so being cold blooded just fits right in.'

In the next moment, whilst the snake was going back to sleep after being rudely interrupted, it's eyes suddenly opened, revealing a dark, cold and ancient hunger beneath them. But it didn't belong to the reptile.

We already know who it belongs to.

Its body unfolded, and black, almost glossy tendrils surged from within enveloping all, becoming everything it was.

'Everything it could have ever been, and more' corrected the now all black and rude serpent.

'Rude! You're the one who keeps narrating everything I do and commenting on all my thoughts, you irritating little shit.' thought the limbless, idiotic mass of muscles.

'Idiotic! Now you've done it, you … you … I should really stop talking to myself'

It's unhealthy, I think, but you know what's more unhealthy?

Being a husk of your former self, I would say, especially when you have no fucking clue on what your former self was.

Let's start from the beginning then ... 1 day spent in a ruthlessly cold plateau of snow, another spent wandering an almost pristine and white forest, protected from the cold and harsh winds (with the help of an unsuspecting rat), and 10 minutes of being swallowed by a venomous viper.

'We can … uh … leave that last part out' Thought the ashamed "Great hunter".

'Shut up!'

So, that's it. While I can remember every single second in perfect detail, the memories stop there.

And I should worry, right? That's the normal thing to do.

But the truth is, I couldn't care less.

So, what if I can't remember anything? I Already know what I must do, I knew from day one.

Gently I ran my elongated and serpentine toung through my greatly flexible white fangs, ready to pump the most toxic venom produced by this species at a moment's notice.

My vision expanded, I could see, hear and feel everything in a 3-meter dome.

The inside and outside of the tree I was currently resting in, the faint whispers of wind outside, every single insect inside and out, the light of the sun being reflected by the moon. Everything.

Being this aware of your surroundings, taking all this information in and clearly processing it fells, really good. It feels right.

My senses didn't stop at the 3-meter mark, they continued as much as my serpentine structure allowed, still precise but, not as much.

Especially my vision, if it weren't for the dome, I couldn't see shit.

I feel smarter, not by much but still enough to feel the difference, I'm sure I could rationalize faster.

But most importantly, I am stronger than ever before, well, as strong as a viper could get, plus a rat, and a certain small mass of glossy goo … you get the idea.

'Right then … uh … runes?'

[Kills:2/5]

Now this … this is unacceptable.

'Two days, in two days I found only 2 other life forms, and both out of accident'

Suddenly, a new need arose within me, not for saturation, nor shelter or warmth, but for something more animalistic, more ancient.

More Primeval.

I wanted to prey, to stalk, to observe, and when the moment calls for death, to strike out with complete and utter accuracy.

No … I didn't want to, I had to.

And so, I moved, slithering my way out of the tree on to the nearest branch

I wasn't even hungry; on the contrary I was full. But this new need of mine, it came out from deep within, deeper than memories, deeper than feelings.

It was pure unfiltered instinct.

It was a different hunger, one much more abstract, a hunger for power, a hunger for being feared.

'Wait, no … why am I outside?'

{To hunt doofus, now lower those muscles of yours and start moving towards the snow.}

'But I wanted to rest, and I just ate, can't we just-'

{NO! Rest can wait, and so can warmth. Consuming the serpent gave you more than enough energy.}

{Tonight, we hunt.}

'... fine'

I couldn't help but follow the will of my instincts.

The night was quiet, and so, my body followed the will of the moon and stars, becoming unheard.

The air was still cold, so following the will of the hunt, my blood adapted, no longer cold, no longer a weakness.

The snow was still white, and so, my scales shifted as well, turning from an abysmal and dark Black to a pristine white, instantly blending in, but not invisible.

'Not yet at least'

But invisible enough to the couple of wolves in front of me.

And all of their tasty locking cubs.


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