The Lamia

1-8

She becomes aware that she is lying near the stream where she has slaked her thirst, and moves away from it, still crawling on her belly. The images of her dead mother and sister burn in her mind, and her will to avenge them is fierce. She sees again the false priest, as he stabs her sister through the heart and pushes her into the cavern well. Then her mother, trying to rally her people against the monstrous act that has taken her eldest daughter and defiled this sacred place, until without warning she too is stabbed and pushed into the well.

She relives her own futile attack on the evil man, her flailing blows, the feel of the stone blade thrust into her side, the snap of the shaft when the blade breaks off as she spins away from him, the shove from behind that sends her tumbling over the brink of the well and plunging down into the cavern to join her mother and sister. She feels the bones in her legs break as she falls among the rocks on the cavern floor.

She knows that now those useless legs are gone, and in their place she has the body of a snake. She no longer feels helpless. Far from it. She raises herself up on long coils and slides easily over the floor of the cave, toward where her guardians are waiting.

The snakes have been hunting. Now they are gathered in a circle around a pile of small bodies, some furred, some scaly. You must eat, they are telling her, eat and grow strong and heal. Then you will be able to do what you must.

Her will to survive and gain retribution overcomes her reluctance. She reaches out with her hands and picks up one of the little bodies, crushed into a shapeless mass by the powerful coils of one of her guardians. Her mouth gapes wide as she slides the lump into her throat and swallows it down into her elongated belly. She gorges herself in this way until she is sated and begins to feel sluggish. Then she coils up comfortably in a rocky nook to let the food digest.

Morning light began sifting through the curtains covering the windows, and Dema gradually became aware that she was no longer seeing the rocky walls of the cavern, but the ceiling and walls of her motel room. For a moment she wanted to shut her eyes against the reality of it, but she discovered she could not. Her eyes would not close.

Vaguely alarmed, she got out of bed and went to the mirror. Her eyes stared back at her, wide open, and appeared to be lidless. But she barely noticed that as her attention was grabbed by something even more startling. Her hair, which had turned white the night before, was now entirely gone. She looked back at the bed, expecting to see a pile of it where she had been sleeping. But there was nothing. It had not fallen out, it had simply vanished.

Turning back to the mirror, Dema looked more closely at her eyes. The lids were there, and shut, but during the night they had become transparent scales that would not move. The color of her eyes had changed as well, from green to a snake-like yellow.

Then she noticed that the backs of her hands were mottled with pale greenish scales. She stripped off all of the soiled clothing she had slept in and began to examine the rest of her body. It was as pale as her face, and patches of scales were everywhere. Her thighs were covered with them, as were her shoulders. With her hands she could feel that small scales ran up the back of her neck and over her scalp. The pale skin on her face still appeared normal, but to the touch it felt stiff. Her attention went to her side. The wound seemed to have closed entirely, although it was still tender. But that area too was completely surrounded by small green-tinged scales.

She stood in front of the mirror, staring with unblinking eyes at her now freakish body, wondering what to do. I'm healing, she thought. But I'm also turning more and more into a snake. I can't let that happen! But how can I stop it? I've got to go to Sedna. She's the only one who might understand what is happening to me. She's the only one who can help me through this.

This new purpose galvanized her to action. She went through her clothing and dressed in slacks and a long-sleeved shirt that hid her entire body. She applied make-up to her whole face so that at least to a casual look it would appear normal. She wrapped a long scarf around her head and neck, and put on a pair of driving gloves to cover her hands. Thus disguised, she packed everything else and put it all in the rental car. The blood-soiled clothing from the day before she tossed in a dumpster.

Being unable to close her eyes seemed to be having a strange effect on her mental state. Every detail around her engaged her attention with unusual intensity. This brought on a kind of heightened awareness, as if she was on the verge of understanding all that she saw in the same minute detail. The very intensity of this awareness gave it all a dreamlike quality, not unreal, but too real, and yet somehow mutable. It was as if she had not really awoken from her dream of the cavern, but merely shifted into another dream. She almost felt that she could at any moment shift back to that other existence and be in the cavern, digesting the dinner her snake-friends had provided.

But in this existence she had not eaten, and she realized she was very hungry. It was time to leave, there were just a couple of things she had to do first. 

Dema picked up her cell phone and dialed the DEA office. The office was not yet open, and the police desk sergeant answered. It took her a moment to find her voice, but she gave him a message to relay to the captain, saying she had been called back to Chicago on urgent business, and would call again and tell him more when she could.

Then she left the room and went to the front desk of the motel to drop off her key card, keeping her staring eyes averted from the attendant. Near the door there was a display rack of sunglasses. She selected a pair with wrap-around mirror lenses and put them on. Now her appearance was as normal as she could make it. She had the attendant add the glasses to her room bill, then she signed the credit voucher and left.

On the way to the highway she pulled through a fast-food drive-in and ordered half a dozen hamburgers. The crumpled twenty-dollar bill she paid for them with reminded her it had been well over a day since she had eaten. As she pulled back onto the road she unwrapped the first burger and took a bite of it. Then she put it down, opened the bun, and ate just the meat. By the time she reached the highway she had demolished all six burgers this way. She began to feel better, ready for the long drive ahead of her.

The drive, at least, was uneventful. Twice along the way she stopped to put gas in the car and load up on burgers, but other than that she just sat behind the wheel and let the miles roll by. 

On the way she had time to ponder the state of dream-like awareness she remained in. All around her, the world seemed to be intensely alive. She thought it must be akin to the trance state of a shaman. Sedna would be able to help her understand that, too. Before she reached Chicago the sun was dropping in front of her and she was doubly thankful for the dark glasses that shaded her unblinking eyes.