The snake queen was no beauty.
Her scales were of a deep emerald, but they were rough to the touch, like sandpaper. Her amber eyes were set into coy slits that closed completely when she smiled. She dressed richly, in sequined gowns that shone brighter than the moon, but no amount of shimmer could disguise the reptilian form handed to her by fate.
Her subjects, nevertheless, were proud of their queen. She killed with ease. Her tongue shot out – slap! – and the human was done for. Their queen was an expert killer, like no other before her.
She could take on the burliest of human warriors, but she didn’t want them.
It was the maidens she craved.
She lay in the grass and watched them. She watched their golden tresses glimmer in the sunlight, licked her lips as their soft skin brushed against wild daisies fluttering in the breeze.
And, when the moment was right, she struck…
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