Chapter 5: Dreamscapes & Shadows

“Hiss hiss—”

The little black snake slithered over, tongue flicking. It raised itself up, almost like it was trying to catch my eye. For the first time, I thought it looked… sort of cute, in a weird, Tim Burton way.

It glided over the carpet and pressed its cold scales against my calf. I jerked away, but the snake stopped, waiting patiently, as if to say, “It’s okay, I’ll go at your pace.”

When I didn’t move, it curled around my hand, its little head nudging my palm like it wanted a pet.

“Alright, alright,” I whispered. I stood, carefully supporting it, and flopped back onto my bed. “Let’s sleep, okay? Don’t let me squish you.”

I set the snake on my pillow. It curled into a neat spiral, tucking its head under its body.

I exhaled and switched off the lamp, leaving just the glow from the parking lot across the street. I lay on my side, not too close, not too far.

Drowsiness crept in. Maybe snakes aren’t so bad after all, I thought, my eyes fluttering shut.

I didn’t notice the screen on my phone lighting up with new comments:

[WTF, guy, what are you doing? Don’t touch my soft, sweet girl!]

[Girl, don’t fall asleep! Look, the snake beside you is about to turn into a man!]

[I heard snake people can hypnotize… Am I the only one looking forward to what’ll happen tonight?]

The darkness pressed in, thick as velvet, until I couldn’t tell if I was asleep or awake.

In my dream—

A chill slid up from my toes, winding over my calf, my thigh, the inside of my thigh… inch by inch, rising higher. I squirmed, trying to kick off the cold, but it felt like a rope—no, more like a snake’s tail, silky and cool.

It coiled around my leg, the pressure both scary and oddly comforting.

“Mmm.”

Fear bubbled up, and I whimpered.

The grip loosened, and something soft stroked my cheek, gentle, almost apologetic.

Then I woke—only, I wasn’t in my room. I was lying in pitch darkness, the kind that presses on your chest.

I sat up, heart pounding. “Jason. Jason, where are you?”

As if on cue, the darkness ebbed, like someone slowly turning up a dimmer.

“I’m here.”

His voice was so familiar I almost cried with relief. But when I turned, all I saw was the little black snake, enormous now, its scales shining in the gloom.

I froze. “Why is it you…?”

It moved closer, lowering its head, still gentle despite its size.

“Jason?”

No answer. Just the snake, nudging my calf with its tail, like a puppy wanting reassurance.

“Little Black, why are you so big now?” I asked, reaching out to stroke its head.

The world blurred. The snake’s outline shimmered and suddenly—there was a naked, well-built man kneeling before me.

He covered my eyes with a broad hand, but through the cracks, I saw his face. Jason.

My jaw dropped. “You, you, you…”

“Shh.”

He looked at me with gentleness and heat, eyes darker than I’d ever seen. He pressed my hand to his neck. “Still scared?”

Suddenly, I realized—my hand wasn’t on his neck. It was on a spot about a third of the way down, where the snake’s scales had felt sensitive.

“A snake that bites should be held tight. Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, his voice thick.

I tried to pull away, but he held me steady, strong but careful, like he was afraid I’d vanish.

I could feel the heat of his skin, the wild thump of my heart, the way his hand trembled just slightly as he touched mine.

Tears pricked at my eyes. “No…”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. He leaned in, voice rough with longing: “No what?”

My ears burned, the heat flooding my whole body. I felt light-headed, like I’d run a mile.

“Don’t you like it?”

He pressed closer, his hand guiding mine.

“When I called you a pervy girl, did you really never check me out?”

“Every time you walked past my door, didn’t you sneak a glance through the crack?”

“Are you leaving me because you hate me, or because you like me?”

The questions tumbled over each other, my mind a haze. I could only cry, “No, don’t do this, Jason…”

“Don’t be scared of me anymore.” His voice was raw, pleading. He pressed my hand down, almost desperate. “Touch me. Don’t be afraid of me. Please.”

I drifted off, never noticing the shadow at the edge of my bed—watching, waiting.