Her dying body rested on the
cobblestone floor of his royal bedchamber. Beyond discontented, King Venomous
collapsed to his knees beside her. The unknown pestilence’s most prized victim,
Melonon’s queen snake, Septemvittata Khanquisidor, was set to give birth.
“I have
failed you, Khanquisidor, for I have failed Melonon,” the uncharacteristically
saddened King uttered.
“Oh,
Venomous, ah — do not — worry
yourself so,” gargling blood, the Septemvittata managed still to reinforce
positivity despite the negative outlook her King maintained. “I know that —
this is not, ah — the end of us. You
will find a way…”
With
sap-like consistency, blood as blue as if it never touched air, seeped from
every hole in her reptilian body. Septemvittata Khanquisidor’s unyielding Melonite
pride allowed her to conjure the energy to push out the first six eggs, but as
predicted they were doomed. The black tar-like substance that once was an
unborn hatchling volcanically erupted from the ovular greenish eggs. Screams of
excruciating pain weren’t only because of hatchling birth; the hell rendering
finale compelled Septemvittata Khanquisidor to experience the torturous
suffering of each of her hatchlings’ untimely deaths as if each death was her
own.
Exploded
heart fragments joined the black tar all over the now death soaked King. And
there before him, his warrior queen snake, Septemvittata Khanquisidor, was no
more.
Emotions;
they didn’t exist to the heartless Melonites, at least not until then. If he
only knew what tears were, King Venomous would’ve understood why his rattlesnake
grimace was wet with salty water. Draped with failure, the answerless King
plopped his head upon his dead matriarch’s stomach in sorrow.
To his
surprise, her stomach was rock solid. Desperation flirted with determination as
he impaled his scaly arm deep into the disease-infested womb of the sacrificial
mother. What he so joyously extracted was a pure white, hard-shelled, seventh
egg. Not a moment passed before the lone scion broke loose from its shell and
King Venomous could finally embrace his perfectly healthy son.
The King took
one last look at his fallen Septemvittata and the six hatchlings that never
were thus compelling his newborn son to do the same. King Venomous didn’t say
anything, he couldn’t; he simply turned away from the biological violence that
undid his whole world and walked away.
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