Family Sequel (A Ninjago Fanic)

Chapter 4

Pythor was weak.

Very weak.

And he didn't like it.

Wu was so lucky. Fate was always on the Ninja's side. In the months since the Great Devourer had been destroyed, it was all he could do to not die. The acidic, poisonous brew of the Devourer's insides had ruined him. His scales had gone from the majestic, deep purple of the proud Anacondrai to the stark white of an albino rat.

When the giant snake he'd released had been to nothing but piles of goo, Pythor had literally crawled away, in pain and thoroughly disgusted with himself. He was a member of the fiercest Serpentine tribe, and he'd dug himself a hole to die in.

But death would not come. No, fate wasn't done with him yet. For months, he hadn't moved, agony rippling through him as he whimpered and licked his wounds.

He'd almost been discovered by locals several times, but they never had a chance. He didn't have the strength to hunt them, or they'd all be dead. Instead, he played mind games with them. Whenever someone came close to his hiding spot, Pythor would turn invisible, leaving only his now glowing, blood-red eyes and mouth visible and hiss at them. It amused him to see how they'd run away in terror, eyes wide and screaming. These games were the only reason why he was still sane. He was pretty sure he was a local legend, now.

Currently, he was gnawing on a small squirrel that had gotten too curious and wandered into his den. He hated how he'd been reduced to a primitive snake, feeding off the local wildlife. He hated everything he'd become.

'Pythor.'

He dropped the squirrel. Where had that voice come from? It had been raspy, and ancient. The thing that made his scales stand on end was the dark, sinister, evil tone it had.

'I know you can hear me. Follow my voice. Come to me, my host. It's time to let Ninjago feel your wrath, once and for all.'

Pythor had no idea what 'host' meant, but the offer of finally getting revenge on this despicable rock overruled everything else. Slowly, he crawled out of his hole, blinking in the bright light of the full moon. His eyes hadn't seen any light in months. He stood tall in the night, his ancestral pride flowing back into his veins, his pure white scales reflecting all the light. He smiled as he set off, doing as the voice instructed.

Pythor was back.

And he was stronger than ever.