On days like these, when everything's red, millions are dead, God will be descending soon, and everything is going how I want it to, I'm reminded of a little story I heard once:
—
In a forest, far far away, lived a meek little white snake covered in black spots.
One day, the snake ran away from wolves and hid away in a thorny bush.
The thorns trapped him for days, weeks, or perhaps months.
All hope seemed lost, all roads converged into one that led to the end.
But in a moment, indistinguishable from the ones before and after, a hag appeared.
The hag, one who dealt in witchcraft, healed the snake with a magical rose and a loving kiss.
The snake was eternally thankful and wished to live in the hag's protection.
The hag wanted to take him in, but she couldn't, because she was afraid of love.
The hag gave the poor snake an offer.
Give me your white scales, and I'll give you strength.
The snake didn't think twice.
Or perhaps he didn't think once.
The snake, now black as the darkest of nights, was feared by all beasts.
In a way, he finally became a beast himself.
Not a moment too soon and not a moment too late, the snake was drunk with power.
He watered the fruits of the forest with blood and tears.
He sought those who were deserving, and many who were not.
The forest became inhabited by nothing but the whistles of the wind.
and one spotless snake, one stained snake.
The snake was alone, no one hunted him, and he hunted no one.
The violent itch grew more and more unbearable, until he wished to do away with the sky and the birds.
The snake buried himself in the dirt, waiting for hundreds of years, until he grew into a beautiful, deadly tree.
The tree pierced the sky, standing tall above all else.
from its bark, a human was born, not taller than a hedge, but higher than the stars.
One curious bird was fascinated by the tree and charmed by the morbid face of the human.
She wanted him all to herself.
Every night, she would peck his forehead in his sleep, allowing his memories to slip away one at a time.
In time, the human became a passive, lost creature, unsure of its existence, unsure of its world.
The bird presented herself to the human with a loving embrace, claiming herself to be his true mother.
The human didn't think twice.
Or perhaps he didn't think once.
Or perhaps he didn't think at all.
In a moment, The human was all alone, in a sea of blood and rotting trees.
Mindless,
Silent,
Hungry.
Mindless,
Whimpering,
Starving.
Mindless,
Crying,
Aching.
Mindless,
Silent,
Lifeless.
—
I went through this story dozens of times, trying to figure out what I was expected to learn from it, the Aesop and whatnot, and I eventually did understand:
It didn't have one.
Some stories are just sad and violent from start to finish.
That is why I'm reminded of that story when I look up and see the endless red mist I created, pouring bloody rain on the remains of countless lives.
DU LIEST GERADE
BEYOND 3A: BloodRed and ScaleBlack
Action"You idiot, 'A' is not a number!" Shut up. Following the tragic ending of the previous entry, 3A takes place one year later and now we're following along two intertwining stories, one of the homeless Corna and Jake in their quest to find the spirit...
