Hidden Fangs

Mornings

      In a tranquil room with walls adorned with photographs, paintings, toys, sculptures, and even books about snakes. There is a young boy sound asleep in his bed. His chest slowly rises and falls with a calm rhythm of his breathing as the oranges and yellows of the bright sun trail down the wall, illuminating an old clock hanging on the wall as the hands reach the time of 6:37. The boy then begins to stir, opening his eyes, exposing his shining red irises as shocking as a bloodstained lily.

~~~----Max----~~~

      Today, Max started his day like most others, waking up as the sun began to slowly trail back down into the sky. It wasn't yet sunset but, from lifting his drowsy head, he saw that it was rather late as the brightness of daylight crept out of the sky's grasp. He could also tell this from looking at the old clock that hung neatly above his sculpture of the Eastern mud snake, a rather beautiful creature indeed. He always enjoyed admiring the vibrant red scales paired with the inky black ones that covered its body like an extravagant outfit. He mused as he stretched his pale arms above his head, running his hand along the strange texture of his skin that covered his forearm as a satisfying click was emitted from his back. He figured that he seemed to be more like a Rare White Snake found in Australia, with the pearly white color of their scaled matching his skin.

      Max rubbed his tired eyes before clambering from his cozy bed. His mattress was rather soft, but he knew that he would have to leave it eventually. With reluctance, he stepped away from his comfy haven and made his way to the wardrobe he had on the other side of his room, feeling the soft carpet beneath his feet as he walked over at a meandering pace. He reached up and retrieved some clothes, A soft black button-up jumper with white trousers and grey socks. He preferred to wear less vibrant colors, as they made him feel more comfortable. As if he could blend in at a moment's notice. He put his spotted pajamas in the small basket he had near the door before settling down with a book from his bookshelves. He was quite far through this one, a book about venomous snakes and their different habitats, food sources, and even the danger of their venom. He was on the largest section of the book, about African snakes.

      He could spend the entire day, or night in his case, marveling at how fascinating the spitting cobra was, or how beautiful the scales of the Puff Adder were. But he was astonished at how beautiful the Black mamba was and was drawn in by the many stories in African culture that included the dangerous creature. However, Max was still human and couldn't spend days without eating like the simple corn snake. He let out a sigh, standing to leave the room that he spent most of his time in, and stepped into the cold corridor to make his way to the dining room.

~~~----Alea----~~~

      Alea was making herself a cup of coffee when she heard the door of the kitchen open, making her back tense before she turned around to see her son looking up at her with those unnervingly red eyes of his. She could feel her body tense as he came closer, his unnatural skin standing out on his face. The air in the room was thick with tension, they both knew well enough how uncomfortable they each were in the other's presence. The boy, her son, moved quickly around her as he kept his distance. She heard the kettle click as the water finished boiling before she hastily picked it up and finished making her beverage, paying no mind to how she burned herself. All she wanted was to leave the presence of the small creature as she picked up the mug and rushed out, sending a final glare to the boy as her burns began to sting more.

  ~~~----Max----~~~  

      The young boy let out a reserved sigh as his mother left the room. He knew that she wasn't fond of him and that he seemed to scare her. But he still tried to ignore the fearful glares and cold words that she gave him. After all, she was his mother. And one of the few people he had gotten to know.

      He scooped up the bowl of food that he had gotten, full of porridge mixed in with honey and some medicine. He'd been taught by his father as to how he should make it, he remembered - being careful with the hot ceramic as he sat down at the table to quietly eat. 

      He was almost finished with his meal when his father entered the room, giving him a strange look when he glanced at him, eyes shining beneath his glasses. Max's father, Robert, Didn't have the same disposition. In fact, Max would occasionally find him to be rather unnerving. But, as he did with his mother, Max ignored these behaviors and assumed that it was normal. After all, he had nothing else to compare it to.

      "Max..." his father said, smiling at the boy in such a way that made him seem more aggressive than happy or comforting. "You should go outside, Your mother seems to be rather upset." He said as the way that he spoke made Max's skin prickle anxiously. 

      Knowing better than to disobey his father he nodded quietly "Yes sir." he said, his voice quiet and weak. He hastily washed up the bowl and spoon, feeling the sharp stare of his father burning into his back. He finished with the mundane task and rushed out of the room, relieved to be away from the, quite frankly, terrifying gaze. 

      The atmosphere outside the room seemed significantly less suffocating, allowing the boy to give a sigh of relief before wandering to the door and pulling down the handle, stepping out into the slightly overgrown grass of his garden, the cold air flushing against his nose as he looked around at the trees that walled him in, reaching around the small clearing with branches too thick for anything to fit through. Max sighed and looked up, his face illuminated by cold light from the moon, meandering up into the sky with stars dancing around it in a display of beauty.

      He was so captivated that he didn't notice a movement behind him in the grass.