The Grandmother of Death

If you read about my snake incident then you have to read the story below written by my little sister Torie for a mother's day present for my mom. She is an amazing writer and makes me laugh so hard. Without further adieu, here is the snake's story.

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This story is dedicated to my mother and the worlds best grandmother on her late birthday and mothers day

　

THE GRANDMOTHER OF DEATH

By Torie Barlow

The snake slithered slowly through the spokes of the wooden chair. Coiling and recoiling through the bars. Waiting. Waiting for the right moment to strike.

It could see the baby lying a mere few feet away. An easy enough target.--It was helpless. All day it had merely released strange sounds and bobbed it’s eyes around the room. The only problem for the snake would be the protector. It was a “She,” he was certain of it. She never left it’s sight. Constantly holding it and talking to it. At his first cry she was there. When his moment came he would have to act quickly.

The snake had considered trying to eliminate her first. She was much like the baby except on a large scale. It was easily apparent she had more knowledge and experience than the little thing. He would have to try a different kind of attack. A sly unexpected one would be needed if he were to succeed.

A few nights before he had tried while she was senseless in her sleep. He circled up the bedpost leg and slipped across the sheets to were she lay. He came close to her face. Her mouth was open. Indeed he could have investigated in there but changed his mind in the thought of her closing down her sharp teeth upon his body. Instead he crept up to her eye which lay open, unprotected to her. He had never seen one open this close before. It had the same blue ring around it like the baby’s. Both the small one and her mate sleeping across from her kept their eyes closed when they were senseless in the night. In one strike the snake threw open his mouth and struck out at her eye. Instantly the top of it turned blood red. The woman stumbled herself upward in bed rubbing her eyes and the snake had to make a slithering bolt to the rear of the bed.

The next day the snake cursed himself to see that his bite had done no harm to her and she seemed not even to notice his attempt on her. This infuriated the snake beyond reason.

After much planning and frustration the snake had founded a new plan. He had decided to bring the “She” down by striking fear into her heart. He rapped himself through all her items on the chair next to her baby. She had returned to him many times in the day reaching for this and that to give to the child. He gazed menacingly with his black beady eyes, he flexed his coils, wrapped and unwrapped his tail--How could she not see him! But then, maybe she had seen him. Had she seen him and yet not feared him? The snake was angered beyond anything he’d ever felt. How could he, the most feared of all creatures on earth, the very symbol of the devil himself not ignite fright in the heart of this woman! The emotional drain was too much for him. He would have his sweet revenge on that child and nothing in the world could stop him.

The female walked from the room into the kitchen and the snake began his unwind from the chair to strike the child. It was a mere two feet away. An easy target. His revenge was so close; his whole body buried in anticipation. The helpless one fastened its round blue eyes on the snake. A gurgle escaped its lips. A plea of help.

The snake froze in its scales as the woman returned to the room carrying a bowl and utensil in her hands. It was then that her eyes first caught on those of the snakes. They grew wide in horror as a high shriek escaped her mouth, covered in the purest fear. “So,” he thought, “She merely hadn’t noticed me after all.“ He noticed in her eye the blood red patch. So he had left his mark. And now he was going to leave it again. His mark for the child.

Just as he turned to strike down like lightning upon the child, the woman scooped him from his resting place and ran from the room. The snake was ashamed he had paused before his attack. He should have anticipated that would be coming. That the first thing she would do would be to protect the child.

He lay there in the chair, still intertwined in the human’s things, as he thought of his next plan against the two. He let himself relax while his mind wandered. He did not have to worry about the female running in to attack him--no. Her fear was far too great. She wouldn’t dare face him again.

Minutes later he heard the door open from outside the room. “So she decided to escape did she? Too afraid to be in her own house?” No…. he felt the vibrations of the footsteps move through the floor and chair. No, these were not the footsteps of the woman. Perhaps those of her mate’s? No--a different walking pattern. He struggled in his confusion as the vibrations entered into the door way and his eyes looked up and met those of another human. One he had not seen before in his brief stay in the house.

The woman was small in height compared to most humans, at least smaller than both the other man and woman, but nonetheless her appearance sent fear through each of his coils that were still intertwined in the bars of the chair. His eyes fell across her biceps that were heaving with solid muscle, but no, this was not the part of her that frightened him the most. No, it was her eyes. There was a penetrating look of death, menus, and ferocity towards him. It was as though she had looked into his small black eyes and had instantly known his plan towards the two beings.

“Ahh“-- now it all connected for the snake. This would be the grandmother. He had always been taught to steer clear of the grandmothers. The ones that would fight to the death to protect their young. Yes, this realization overpowered the snake into cold fear. There was no time for new plans or calculations. He must escape at all costs.

The grandmother yelled in anger as her hands reached for the broom and ran towards his frozen form. Her voice carried malice and profanities. She swung the broom wildly in her hands, her weapon, her wielded sword against him.

Quick as a flash he swam against the shag of the carpet, desperate to hold on to his life. The angry screaming continued, throwing curses down upon him as the broom sent him flying across the floor. Slapping down across him again and again.

This was all too much for the snake. He was going to die. There was no chance for life. Not against this the fiercest of all grandmothers, but he would not die without his pride. Would not die running away from the fight. Not he, the fiercest of all animals. He turned himself about and let an angry hiss scream from his lips as his eyes tried to regain their focus from the last strike of the broom. The three spinning grandmothers returned into one solid one and he funneled all his remaining strength into lunging back at her.

It was of no use. Her strength and her broom held no hope against his frail dying heart. The broom threw him down the stairs of the house and into the long grass. He stared up at the crazed grandmother, her black hair of death standing up in it’s furry. Hey eyes locked onto his. He knew the threat they spoke. Never again would he be near her family to hurt them again. There were no second chances.

At that the grandmother took the snow shovel from its resting place against the wall. She raised it above his head, and all went dark for the snake.