The edge of the forest wasn't far.
Tall trees stood like sentinels, guarding truths older than words.
I slithered beneath the underbrush, faster now, stronger.
My skin itched.
I was growing.
Shedding would come soon. A fresh layer of skin, a newer version of this cursed body.
But the jungle had no time for rituals. Not like how humans had a schedule..I remember how I used to organize my schedule in diary before..Haha
For now tho..
I saw a hawk snatch a squirrel mid-scream.
A leopard pacing the ridge, sniffing, looking for meat.
I saw a python strangling a fawn near the river, the bones crunching like twigs.
Everywhere—death and hunger.
It was glorious.
And terrifying.
And in it... I didn't feel out of place.
Not anymore.
---
I made my home inside a hollow tree.
A damp, dark place layered with the smell of fungus and something else—
Snake skin.
Old. Torn. From another life.
Not mine.
I wasn't the first to die and return here.
Something was waiting in this forest.
A path.
A lesson.
Or a curse.
---
Another thing I learned is that I can understand other animal's languages..I don't know how? Maybe it's my power..
It was the monkey that told me.
Yes. A monkey. Thin, scarred, with a torn ear and eyes like oil.
He spoke in riddles and laughs.
> "So cold, the snake… yet its eyes burn like fire. You were man, weren't you?"
I hissed. "You know nothing."
> "Oh, but I do. I know about the Bone Circle. Where all reborn beasts meet."
I was shocked inwardly 'What!?' but I tried to keep my calm and asked,
"Where?"
> "Deeper. Past the river where the crocodile sleeps. Past the stones that bleed. There. You'll find your answer. Or your end."
Then he vanished into the trees, giggling like a broken bell.
---
The journey began.
Days blurred. I hunted. I dodged death. I grew colder.
More snake.
Less man.
I killed a rat. A bird. Even a scorpion.
Each life fed something inside me — not just hunger.
Power.
But guilt never left.
Not even when I struck a rabbit too young to run.
Not even when I heard the girl's voice again, calling to her mother—
> "Don't kill it, Amma. Maybe it's scared too."
...
It wasn't a myth.
The Bone Circle was real.
A ring of rocks, half-buried in moss and bone.
Carved with claws. Painted in blood.
And there they were.
Other animals.
Not ordinary.
A three-legged wolf with eyes like a storm.
A crow that never blinked.
A goat who spoke like a poet.
They all looked at me.
And I knew.
They were like me.
Reborn.
From human.
To beast.
---
A voice, low and heavy, came from the center.
A black cobra, massive and regal, its hood flared with white markings like painted flames.
> "You are late, man-born."
I bowed instinctively.
He circled me slowly.
> "You have tasted life. Death. Pain. Hunger. Yet you still ask why."
"Is this punishment?" I asked.
> "No. It is clarity. You were given a form closer to truth. No lies here. No masks. No mercy."
"Will I die like this?"
The cobra paused.
> "Only if you forget what you were...
And fail to become what you must."
Then he lunged.
No ceremony. No audience. No second chances.
Just the snake elder's voice as I slithered toward the trial ground:
> "You want answers? Then endure what you once gave others—fear without reason."
The trial?
Spend a night near the funeral pyre on the village edge.
A snake, visible.
Not hidden in grass or coiled in shadows.
I was to remain still.
Not hiss.
Not strike.
Not flee.
Just exist, and endure the humans' reaction.
---
At dusk, I slid into position behind a crumbling stone near the pyre.
Ashes floated in the warm breeze.
Smoke. Soot. A burnt sandal.
Villagers gathered to mourn.
No one noticed me yet.
Then the boy came—barefoot, sharp-eyed.
He pointed.
> "Snake!! Amma, snake there!"
It began.
Rocks flew. A stick missed my head by inches.
Two boys shouted, "Kill it!"
One tried to poke me with a bamboo pole.
I wanted to bite.
Every coil in my body begged me to strike.
But I stayed still.
Silent.
Rooted in rage.
Rooted in restraint.
Time crawled like a dying rat.
The moon rose. The humans left.
I remained—broken in patience, but unbroken in will.
The elder snake was waiting at dawn.
> "Now you begin to understand what it means to be feared. For no crime… but being born a snake."
Yeah now I understand how it feels to be on the receiving end of this torture.