Slithering through the soul, the creature’s slender body curves and twists from side to side. So small that it can slip in the smallest opening, the snake slithers into the darkest, most secret parts of its host. Hissing softly, it whispers. The mind fills with lies, insults, and doubts under the pressure of that soft voice. The spirit quivers and quakes as soft suggestions break through impenetrable barriers. Eventually, oft-repeated phrases and questions push aside reason.
“You’re not good enough.”
“Why do you even try?”
“You can’t do thisssss.”
“Do you think anyone caresssss?”
“You will fail.”
“Why don’t you give up?”
“You don’t dessssserve love.”
Having conquered the mind, the snake changes direction and heads south. Riding the river that flows to the center, it wraps itself around the warm, beating muscle it find there. The heart shudders with every exploratory squeeze, struggling to pump out enough blood with such constriction. Time passes. Heart and mind struggle to regain control. How long the battle lasts depends on when their owner chooses to seek help.
Sinking down to weary knees, a plea for help falls from ashen lips. As tears stream down a pale face, vision blurs. In the haze a winged creature swoops downward, disappearing before its talons touch the smooth skin of the sweat-soaked forehead.
“Who would help you?” A faint question echoes softly.
A feathery warmth spreads through until it finds its prey. A struggle ensues between wings and great worm. The winged creature bites and claws. Sharp talons find purchase in slick scales.
The snake’s hold loosens. Blood flows again from heart to hands to feet to head. Thoughts clear. The hissing doubts subside. Freedom follows faith. Freedom becomes true.
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