Gift of the Serpent
Wylder Willis
Contents
Prelude
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Mid-22nd Century
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Prelude
Chapter 1
1859 in the Old West
It was a cold, dark night when a young girl ran crying into the desert from her burning home, carrying only her family daggers. The daggers had protected the family through much—bear attacks, wars, robbers, wild men. The daggers held no supernatural power, though they had lasted for so many generations and were never lost.
They hadn’t protected her and her family tonight, though, as the marauders from town—some wearing badges—set the Jemina house on fire. Rosa had heard her parents talking just a few nights before about how bad some of the people in town—including the sheriff and deputies, were. She didn’t know the details, but knew that they were dangerous.
Rosa was often told that the family daggers would always return to their owner’s hands in a fight. She was seven, dressed only in her black nightgown. She had seen the box containing the daggers on the small table near the door, so she had grabbed the daggers out of it as she fled, praying they would protect her. Long, wild, black hair trailed behind her as tears filled her emerald green eyes. The moon illuminated her olive skin.
Her name was Rosa Jemina. She ran as far as she could—away from the flames and the people that had changed her life forever—into the desert, until the ground fell out from beneath her feet, and she fell into a deep pit. Rosa hit the sandy floor of the pit hard as the daggers clinked along the pit wall and landed in an “X” by her left foot. She had landed on her back—the wind temporarily knocked out of her—and now gazed up at the stars that were visible from the bottom of the pit, when she heard a rattling sound coming from her left. Rosa looked over to the source of the sound and came face to face with a six-foot western diamondback rattlesnake.
It was the biggest snake she had ever seen, twice as long as the three-foot rattlesnake her father had shown her when they had been on one of their walks. The snake hissed at her before it lunged with fangs poised. It bit her on the cheek! Rosa cried out in fear that she would die painfully from the venom. Instead a soothing, yet scratchy voice cooed, “Do not fear youngling, the bite was a gift. For now you are one of us.”
Rosa looked around the pit for the owner of the voice, but saw only the snake that bit her. She said to no one in particular, “ Why has this happened to me? How could I have such awful luck to lose my home, my family, fall into a snake pit, and be bitten by a snake all in the same night. To top it off I’m hearing voices now.” Though her parents had taught her to be tough and self-sufficient—even at her young age—tears started to leak from her eyes.
Rosa looked to the snake as if expecting it to bite again. Instead the snake answered, “Your luck has turned good, not awful, for you are the first human to receive the gift. The Gift of the Serpent.” Rosa was surprised that she could understand the snake, but was too tired from running to ask the snake (who she would come to know as Mother Snake), any questions before falling asleep.
Rosa would come to learn more about her gift, the Gift of the Serpent, as she grew older. One thing she learned, is that it had been passed down from a carrier of the gift to a Reptilian Protector, for many centuries. There were always two carriers, but none of them had ever given a human the gift before—Rosa was the first.
What was this gift? Among other things which crossed over into the mystical, it transformed her physically. While she was still part human, she also gained reptilian characteristics—including speed, strength, agility, and unusual senses. And she could transform her shape—from human to reptilian form—almost instantaneously.
Chapter 2
1869
A strong, young western diamondback slithered out of her snake pit and into the desert heat to bask a few feet away. Suddenly, the snake started to change shape as it grew hair, arms, and legs. Within minutes, in place of the snake was a teenage girl. She was wearing a tattered black dress that barely touched her knees and bore only one sleeve. She wore no shoes.
Rosa carried her daggers in a twist of shed rattlesnake skin. A voice from the snake pit called out, “Seknar Delmoss, don’t get killed in town—and you’d better shimmer on a cloak.” She smiled at her reptile name as her eyes flashed blood red. The air touching her body darkened and solidified into a cloak. Once she had flicked the hood over her head she set off across the desert to the nearby boom town.
In the small boom town, Seknar slinked behind the saloon and observed the drunk deputy; she could tell by his badge that he worked with the sheriff, and all of her experiences with sheriffs in the past suggested that they were bad news.
Rosa had lost her home and family because of a sheriff and his deputies. She had once tried to finish the sheriff with evidence of his law breaking, but was only seen as a foolish woman. She was beaten for trying to stand against him—by his deputies—behind a bar. She never got help from any of the townspeople as they were too scared of the local lawmen to help. After the beating, as she lay in the dirt, the deputies laughed, and then went back into the bar to drink more whiskey. These memories raced through Rosa’s mind as she entered town.
The deputy was sitting on a stool, leaning against the saloon wall sound asleep, a bottle of whiskey still loosely in his right hand. Seknar took the bottle and threw it against the wall right next to the man’s head, waking him with a start. Seknar grew her snake fangs and venom glands. She bit him on the shoulder and felt her venom flow into his bloodstream. The deputy cried out in pain and fear. Seknar stopped when she heard the sound of people shouting and her snake fangs and venom glands disappeared.
She then fled from behind the saloon into the town square where she planned to disappear. But instead, she found men waiting for her. The men surrounded Seknar; the town sheriff walked into the circle of men and said to Seknar, “Give up girly. You’re outnumbered and outgunned.” The men pulled out their guns and aimed them at Seknar. Once again, a sheriff proved to be a bad dude. Somehow, he’d known she was coming to town, and laid a trap for her. At least the deputy wouldn’t be a problem.
Seknar said menacingly, “I’m never outgunned or outnumbered. You are the one hopelessly outgunned. Despite the price on my head, it shall never be collected, though this town will need another new sheriff, since you chose the wrong girl to mess with and you will pay dearly for it.”
The sheriff pulled out his gun and aimed it at Seknar and cocked it. Seknar was surprised he chose to cock his gun, but she just shimmered out of her cloak and started to shape shift. She grew scales, snake fangs, and her eyes became like those of a viper—reptilian yellow in color. This was her true form. The sheriff fired a shot that was aimed straight at her chest, and it hit her. Seknar looked down at her chest and used the dagger hidden against her wrist to dig out the bullet, which hadn’t even gone through the scales. She smiled to the sheriff and said cunningly, “Many have tried that, all have died. You see, nothing can penetrate my scales and now you shall die.”
The men ran at Seknar with knives and guns they pulled from their sheaths and holsters. Seknar hissed as she sprayed her deadly venom in many of the men’s faces causing them to halt their attack. Seknar took this as her chance to disappear. She started chanting in Serpantra and before she finished the spell, she disappeared before the men’s eyes in a whirlwind
of black and red snake scales.
Seknar re-appeared behind a large rock several miles outside of town, where she heard three horses galloping past with riders. She peeked out from behind the rock where she was crouched, studying the riders. She immediately recognized the lead rider, Brick Wayne, supposedly the best tracker in the West. The two other riders were wearing cloaks that hid their faces. Seknar wished they would lower their hoods so she could identify them, but they didn’t. Seknar hissed with hatred, “Well, the sheriff may have the best tracker in the West, but he won’t get me behind bars. As for the sheriff’s future death, well, I never break a promise.”
With that she got ready for the impending fight with the Sheriff, his deputies, and his supporters, once the three riders were just small figures on the horizon. Seknar took her daggers from the sheaths and laced both daggers with her venom, then slid them back into their sheaths. After a minute, she started her battle prayer:
“Oh, Great Snake give me the strength to defeat my enemies, give me the venom to petrify them, grant me the blood eyes of death, and give me help.”
Seknar waited for an answer. Suddenly, a three foot long western diamondback rattlesnake slithered up to her feet. She studied the snake and noticed a strange design on the top of its head and a note sticking out from between two of the snake’s tail scales. Seknar gently removed the note and started reading it. It read: “Seknar I have heard your plea and have sent this viper to assist you. When you need his help just say ‘Hella’. It is the snake’s signal word.”
Seknar shimmered on her cloak to hide her face, before teleporting to the edge of town. She approached the town square where the sheriff, Brick Wayne, and the two cloaked figures waited. Once in the center of the town square, some of the town’s men appeared from where they were hidden as they surrounded her.
Seknar spat at the sheriff, “Well I don’t usually let sheriffs live long enough to send word for Mr. Wayne, though I guess you sent for him before we met earlier today. Seems I should have finished you the last time you had me surrounded. If I had I’d be home by now and wouldn’t have to incinerate this town.”
The sheriff didn’t answer; instead Mr. Wayne did. He smirked, “Girly, if you do that then you wouldn’t get to meet this nice couple. You may recognize them.” With that the two cloaked figures stepped closer as they lowered their hoods.
Seknar unsheathed a venom laced dagger as she hissed, “What trickery is this? My parents died in a fire ten years ago and you bring their ghosts here to soften me up, so you can capture me. Well it won’t work… You can’t break me.” The couple looked back at Wayne a little surprised when they heard Seknar say “capture”, but then looked back at her. “They didn’t know that I’m wanted for killing,” Seknar thought.
The woman said in a gentle voice, “Daughter, we are no ghosts; we escaped the fire. We thought we had lost you, but now we are back together again.”
Seknar looked at the woman as tears welled up in her eyes. She wiped away a tear before recalling that she was surrounded by the town’s men and felt mad at herself for crying in front of the hated man.
The woman had continued her approach and was within an arm's length of her. Seknar hissed, “You are not my parents. YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER!”
With that Seknar punched the woman in the gut with the hand that held the venom laced dagger, but in her anger, she forgot that she was holding one of her daggers. The woman fell as the man cried for his wife.
Seknar stood frozen in shock. Finally, she managed to say under her breath, “Sorry, Mother…” The man stormed towards her and backhanded Seknar across the face hard enough to knock her to the ground. Before she could realize what was happening the man stepped on her right hand with enough force to cause it to release a cracking sound. She cried out in pain her dagger just out of reach. The man said, “Sheriff, come and get your prisoner before she gets away from you again.”
Before Seknar could collect her thoughts, the sheriff was putting her behind bars. She spat at the sheriff, “You won’t make it to sunrise.”
The sheriff shot her a look that made her feel like a trapped bird. Seknar hissed, revealing her snake fangs extended before she turned away to think. She sat on the floor for hours watching as the Sheriff moved around before eventually falling asleep. She had thought about her escape while she watched him. She shimmered as she shapeshifted into a Monocle cobra.
Once the transformation finished Seknar slithered through the bars and towards the sheriff. She slithered up the leg of his pants so she could whisper her final words to him. She whispered in the Sheriff’s ear, “this is for the snakes you killed in your life. Now say hello to the devil for me, asshole.” With that she bit into his soft neck flesh three times, injecting venom into his bloodstream each time. Once done she slithered off him, and through a crack in the back door, never to be seen again for many years.
Mid-22nd Century
Chapter 3
Diving In
It was a typical New York City night, loud cars rushing around, people occasionally getting mugged at either gun point or blade point. But this night was different, as a young woman was skydiving—without a parachute—into the city. She had leapt from the police helicopter’s landing skids, which she had coiled herself around—while in tree viper form—in anticipation of it’s nightly flight over the city. The young woman had olive skin. She was normal in appearance for an 18 year old, wearing a dark black half shirt with only one sleeve and a short, jagged cut, black skirt. Armed with only a couple of daggers, she went by the name “Nikita Blade”.
As she was in free fall, far below in a tucked away alley, a young woman was being mugged at gunpoint. Nikita saw the mugging as she got within a thousand feet of the ground. “And here we have a fine example of humanity,” said Nikita sarcastically to herself. She sped her descent by angling herself downwards, hands first. She flexed one of her hands and her snakeskin armor hardened to the point of being indestructible.
Nikita hit ground and rolled head over heels into a kneeling position, head angled down, and arms straight behind her. The mugger, caught off guard, jumped back several feet. Nikita smiled as she rose to her feet and looked the mugger in the face.
The mugger was a male in his 20’s, caramel skin, and a fair amount of muscle. He wore a red hoodie that covered his short, dusty brown hair, a pair of tattered jeans, and now had his gun aimed at Nikita instead of the woman. Nikita turned her head to her left and said to the woman, “Tell no one and run. Now!” With that the woman ran as Nikita turned back to the boy.
“You’re gonna pay for that, girlie,” said the young man.
“That’s what they all say,” replied Nikita as she grinned.
“You're dead, bitch,” threatened the mugger.
“Time you learn some manners,” Nikita said as she shimmered into her true form. Seconds later in place of her skin there were snake scales. Her eyes were now blood red, snake eyes. She smiled to reveal a pair of two inch long snake fangs.
The boy backed away as he gasped, “What the hell are you?”
“I am Sekmar Delmoss, your worst nightmare,” hissed Nikita as she unsheathed her daggers in the blink of an eye and was rushing at him before he could even register what was happening. He fired two shots at her before she was on him. The first bullet she dodged, but the second found its mark and hit her in her left shoulder. Before he could shoot again Nikita disarmed him with a slash to his arms, forcing him to drop the gun. In an instant she was not even an arms length away from him and had one of her daggers resting across the back of his neck and the other aimed at his face.
“Yield or suffer? Doesn’t much matter to me, ‘cause either way you're still gonna pay for calling me bitch,” promised Nikita as she shifted her left shoulder, revealing the bullet that was now lodged in one of her scales. The boy surrendered and Nikita sent him running to the police station to turn himself in, with a broken hand.
Back at her hideout, she busied herself with digging out
the bullet in her shoulder. Her hideout was not much more than an old, abandoned hotel, but she liked it anyway. It had several rooms on the floor she hung out on, but she didn’t use them all. The rooms she did use each had their own purpose, from a place to sleep to a place that she could sharpen her weapons. Once she had dug out the bullet she placed it on a shelf and headed to the room with the bed. She plopped onto the bed and within minutes was asleep, wearing a long black nightgown that had a red dragon design on the back.
Meanwhile, not far from her hideout, a group of four teenage boys were running from rooftop to rooftop, patrolling the city. After a bit, the boys came to rest on a roof that was across the street from where Nikita lay sleeping. They weren’t anything special, just four teenage brothers. They each wore an eye mask of a different color; blue, molten gray, green, and purple. The one in molten gray had ninja claws on his hands, the one in blue had two katanas on his back. The one in yellow had a bow and quiver with twelve arrows in it slung over his shoulders, and the one in purple had a bo-staff across his back.
Oliver (blue mask) was 18 and stood a good 5’11”. He had slightly tanned skin and a semi-muscular build. He had sky blue eyes, a loving smile, and short, sandy brown hair that swept past his ears, just barely. He wore nothing fancy—-only his stealth outfit of a black sleeveless shirt, slacks, and ninja style shoes.
Horus (molten grey mask) was 17 and was about two inches shorter than Oliver. He was light carmel in skin tone with a muscular build. He had dark blue eyes and a cunning grin. Horus had razor-cut brown hair. Around his neck was a golden chain with a gold tinted ankh. He wore a tight fitted black T-shirt, tattered black slacks, and black painted sneakers. Horus bore many scars and was proud of one scar that started at his right ear and ended at his collarbone, almost under his chin.
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