Chapter 2: Ch. 2: Heaven Or Hell?

"Are you scared?" The man asked Parish, but he knew his words were not genuine. Coupled with the gaze and the evil smirk on his face, Parish knew he wasn't the type to have mercy.

"Don't be scared little snake. I'm gonna make this quick," he said in the same tone and held the blade close to his face. Parish could see his reflection in the shiny blade and he knew he was as good as dead meat. He tried to slither out of the man's grip but it was too strong. Out of anger and despair, he bit the man with the hopes that he would let go of him but that added only to annoy the man more.

"Ouch! That hurts little snake," he said, pretending to be in pain. And then turning to stare at the moonly eyes of Parish, he said," I wanted to keep you alive for a bit longer but seems you have a death wish now. And I'm going to gladly fulfill it." He let out a sinister laugh after saying those words.

"Hey, Martin. Are you going to take the whole day on that golden snake? We have more to catch. Hurry up!" The other guy said. Martin turned to him and grinned before he drove the knife through Parish's belly. A red liquid painted the sylphy blade as the man named Martin dropped Parish on the ground. He slithered and writhed in pain as Martin wiped the dagger with a piece of clothing, satisfied by what he had accomplished.

"Aww. Look at how it's coiling," the other guy who had been silent spoke assuming to Parish's movements on the ground.

"And now we are equal guys. We've all killed a golden snake," Martin said proudly. "Let's go. I bet it can't survive." The others nodded in agreement and patted his shoulder before they started walking away. Martin threw one last glance at the slithering snake on the ground before he trotted toward his minions.

"The last time I killed a golden snake was back….." The words became distant in Parish's mind. He transformed into his half snake half human form and coughed out the some more red liquid, his lips besmeared with red. Gods! This was so painful. More blood gushed out of his belly surrounding him in a pool of redish blood. At this rate of blood loss, he wasn't going to make it. He held his stomach to prevent blood loss but it suddenly became hard to breathe. His mind felt foggy and his head dizzy. And before he knew it, he was now falling to the ground. His head kissed the hard ground making him lose more blood from his head, as blood dripped from his head soaking his hair and besmearing half of his face.

The face of a laughing Martin appeared in his mind. He could clearly remember how the guy laughed sinisterly before he heartlessly butchered him. Oh, how he wished he had the strength, the power, and the ability to fight these humans. But he knew that was not possible. Was this how his ancestors also wished before they died?

Where were their gods when they needed them the most? Where was the goddess Assura, the goddess of life and death? Where was god Azazel, the god of justice and vengeance? Or were they just a myth instilled in their minds by their long-dead ancestors? Before Parish could think further, it suddenly became hard to breathe again, worse this time. No air could pass through his nostrils, and he could tell his veins had almost run dry. Was this how death felt like? And everything now turned dark. He blinked one last time before it turned all dark.

******

Parish had been in the dark for who knows how long. But it suddenly became brighter now. He fluttered his eyes open and squinted his eyes to adjust the sudden light. He was lying on what looked like stilled water and felt like smoothen surface. His eyes swept the area but he found himself awed by the beauty instead. Was this heaven?

The place looked magnificent. In fact magnificent was an understatement. Well-trimmed lanes were in the corner of each path. Birds of different kinds and colors hovered in the space above the colorless ceiling as the golden rays of the sun streamed through it. A table with various foods was laid in front of Parish, the scent alluring him to take a step closer, which he gladly did. And now that he thought of food, his stomach growled loudly, filling the empty hall with its echo. Parish chuckled lightly at this before he shut his mind. He wanted food and there was plenty in front of him.

He grabbed an apple and began chewing when he paused midway. Food! Yes! He had gone to look for food the last time and he was… killed. The realization made him drop the apple and took a few steps back. He stared at all the food on the table wearily. He was just foolishly eating food yet he didn't know where it came from. Did he even know who had set the table? And even though he was hungry, he knew he had to be careful, especially after his last encounter with humans. Still, he didn't know whether he was alive or dead. He thought that someone had found him on the brink of death and saved him.

"The food is all yours, Parish," a gruff voice sounded across the room, startling Parish. His gaze shifted to the direction of the voice and what he saw nearly made him jump out of his skin. An old man, no not old. Old was an understatement to use for him. He was out of the 'old' bracket. His skin sugged on one side as if he had no flesh and he took each step with a lot of difficulty. But what startled Parish most was his voice. It never wavered a little and sounded like one that held years of great wisdom. And how the hell did he know his name?

After what seemed like ages, the old man finally managed to reach where the table stood. His watery eyes gazed into Parish and he scoffed.

"Who are you?" Parish asked, unable to hold his curiosity anymore.

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