The Serpent of Cinders

A Casual Visit

     While Timothy was unconscious, he dreamed of an event that occurred five years ago... Ten-year-old Timothy was asleep in his seventh house. A terrible blizzard was going on outside. Timothy, curious of the storm, went outside without his father noticing. Once outside, Timothy lost his way home because of all of the snow and wind blocking his view. Suddenly, a giant boulder fell out of the sky. Timothy screamed and covered his head with his arms, all the while knowing that he could do nothing to stop his untimely death. Then, a beam of blue ice struck the boulder, shattering it into thousands of tiny shards of shrapnel. Timothy, now safe, noticed his dad calling his name. As he made his way towards the sound of his voice, he discovered an object on the ground. He picked it up and followed his dad's voice. He soon reached the shelter of his home and went to his room, cradling the object. The item was a large scale, with about the width of a baseball, made out of pure ice.

     Timothy woke up in a strange bed surrounded by whirring machines. An IV tube was feeding a fluid into his arm. Timothy's head was filled with a pounding thrum from his concussion. He noticed two people talking near an open door. One was a woman in hospital scrubs, while the other was a man in his late 40's dressed in brown suit and pants.

     "I'm the boy's caretaker, I demand to know his condition!" The man demanded.

     The doctor replied, "I'm sorry sir, but we are not permitted to release that information unless you can prove your relation."

     The man simply replied, "Very well", turned towards the door and watched Timothy. By then, Timothy was exhausted and blacked out once again.

The next time that Timothy awoke, he was still lying in the unknown bed. This time, the doctor lady was fiddling with a few of the machines.

     "Oh good, you're awake," she said. Timothy groggily turned his head attempting to speak. "The drugs should wear off in a few minutes," the woman added helpfully. After about 20 minutes, Timothy was able to sit up while enduring a lot of pain.

     "Calm down Mr. Warren, don't move around too much. You fracture two ribs and broke your left femur," the doctor continued.

     "Where's my dad?" Timothy asked.

     "I'm afraid that your father is in an odd predicament," the doctor answered before hesitating a tiny bit, "He must have hit his head while in the car. I'm afraid that he's suffered some extreme brain damage and is in a coma. We are doing all we can, but no one knows when he'll wake up."

Timothy was devastated! What was he going to do now? When would his dad wake up? The doctor patted Timothy on the shoulder and asked him if he would like to see his dad. Timothy nodded silently trying to process all of the new information. A nurse came into the room and helped Timothy into a wheelchair before wheeling him into the room next door.

     Timothy's dad was lying on a bed with tubes and machines hooked up to his prone body. He looked pale and sickly. The nurse wheeled Timothy next to his dad and left them alone. Timothy reached out and took his father's hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze as his eyes started misting over. He sat next to him for a while before asking to be returned to his room. The doctor said that they would release him once he was fully healed and that a therapist would meet with him the next day. She gave Timothy some pills to help him sleep. As Timothy drifted off, he wondered what he would do next.

     The following day, Timothy was scheduled to meet a therapist. The psychologist entered his room around noon and began to ask him how he was feeling. Then, the physician asked an odd question.

"What did you see during the crash?" He asked.

"Well," he began, " My dad and I were just talking before this giant creature crashed into the side of the car and I had to drag my dad out because he was unconscious." A few silent tears fell down Timothy's face when he remembered that his father was still unconscious. "Then, the thing tried to attack us again but it just froze and disappeared."

The therapist gave Timothy an odd look at the final bit. "What kind of animal was did you see?" he asked Timothy.

"That's just it, I don't know what animal it was, I'd never seen one like it before," Timothy explained.

"Could you describe it for me?" the doctor asked.

"It looked like a giant bull with tusks and a long neck." The doctor just nodded and wrote something on his clipboard before getting up and thanking Timothy for his time.

As he walked out he turned and said to Timothy, "I just want to notify you that the animal was a cape buffalo that had escaped from the Bronx zoo. They did say that it was captured and put down. Just in case you needed some closure."

Then he left the room with total confidence, but Timothy, still sitting in his hospital bed, knew that whatever had hit the car had definitely not been a buffalo.

The next week went by slowly. Timothy woke up back in the hospital bed with his leg in a cast and the doctor by his bed. It was his last day at the hospital. A nurse helped Timothy off of the bed and gave him some crutches to use. He checked on his dad once more before leaving the hospital. He was still fast asleep.

Timothy slowly hobbled out of the hospital, with some assistance from the staff, and called a taxi. A yellow vehicle rolled to a stop in front of the hospital and Timothy got in.

"Where to?" the cab driver asked while pulling out of the hospital. Timothy told the driver his address and sat back for the ride. The outside of the cab was a blur as Timothy thought about what he was going to do. It wasn't until a few seconds later that he realized that the outside of the cab was literally a blur. Colors were swirling and shifting as if he were traveling through a kaleidoscope. Then, suddenly, the car jerked to a stop in front of Timothy's apartment building.

"Drive's on me," the driver said as Timothy opened the cab door. Timothy got out of the taxi warily before heading into the building.

Timothy climbed the stairs to his apartment and headed inside. Right as he entered, he sensed something off, but before he could react a bag was put over his head.

"Don't move a muscle kid," a gruff voice commanded. Timothy was manhandled into a chair by the person who had spoken. Then, a new voice chimed in.

"You may leave now Brick. I wish to speak to the boy alone." Timothy recognized the new voice, but he couldn't remember where he'd heard it before. The new person sounded like an esteemed gentleman. Timothy heard a grumble as the front door was opened and closed behind him.

"I'm terribly sorry for the hood, but I have to maintain my secrecy. Let me introduce myself. I am the butler of your Grandmother Sarah. She has requested your presence three days from now. She will give you that time to pack and get ready. When the time is up, you must go to the Bronx Zoo at exactly noon. Don't be late. Until then I suppose."

Then, there was a sudden cold draft and silence. Timothy took off the hood and was treated to an empty apartment. It was like no one had been there at all. Three days the man had said. What happens in three days?