To Be A Snake
Tuesday, August 29, 2000
Spike faced off with his prey, cold blue eyes staring into cold yellow ones.
Both of them were coiled tight, poised to attack, yet their bodies were
perfectly still. Around them, everything was silent in anticipation. Nothing
even dared to breathe.
Without warning, Spike struck. A flash of fang, a loud hiss, followed by the
triumphant cry of victory.
"Got you, you dirty bugger!"
Spike held his prey by the neck, brining it face-to-face with him. A forked
tongue flicked angrily at him. He grinned. "You're a pretty one, aren't you?"
The snake simply stared coldly at him in return.
The late afternoon sun beat down on Spike and was hot across his shoulders.
Shirtless and bootless, he stood on the rocky bluffs over-looking the Pacific
Ocean a hundred miles from Sunnydale. Behind him, cars and trucks rushed by on
the Pacific Coast Highway, but the noise of the traffic was drowned out by the
sound of the ocean's waves crashing against the rocks.
The snake coiled around Spike's wrist, dust blurring its markings. The blond
vampire loved snakes. He loved the way they moved fluidly over any surface,
effortlessly gliding along without the clumsiness of legs and feet to hamper
them. He loved how they devoured their prey while it was still alive, eating it
whole. He loved the way snakes looked, sleek and streamlined.
He wouldn't mind being a snake, if he had a choice. He could sit around
basking in the sun all day, with nothing on his snakey mind except choosing
between rabbit or rat for dinner. He'd have no worries about bad sex, or lack of
interest in killing when it came down to it, or grumpy children with the power
to end his unlife with a look. He wouldn't be concerned about why the child in
his care seemed angry with him, or why that bothered him at all.
Spike crouched, set the snake back on the rock and watched it quickly slither
away. He clapped his hands on his dusty thighs, straightened, and headed to
where he parked the bike. It was getting late, and he didn't feel comfortable
being so far away from Xander for long. There was no telling when a lightning
storm would strike, and it was his job to ensure the boy's safety and well-being
when they did occur. He couldn't do that from a hundred miles away.
Of course, if he was a snake, it wouldn't matter how far away he was.
However, with his luck, he'd end up being the snake that slithered onto the
highway and was flattened by the semi-truck.
End
