Dark Mist, Neon Lights

Once there was an abyss. The sticky darkness swirled about and spattered within it. The only object visible was a spider web made of shimmering neon lights. It glowed, an eerie orange and greenish yellow. All was still and silent except for the churning of the darkness and an occasional flare of neon light. Then, creeping slowly, a tiny human fetus bathed in blood floated sightlessly through the air. Curled up in a ball, the fetus skimmed over and under the threads of neon light. It bobbed its way to the center of the web, but did not touch even one thread. After penetrating its center, its tiny fingers did brush it. Immediately the web convulsed. Powerful threads of neon light shot out from the center and wound themselves around and around the fetus. Soon it was trapped in the web, as deftly as a fly. It jerked to life, let out a piteous wail and strove to extricate itself.

“Don’t strain yourself, my darling.” A soft, melodious voice hummed.

The fetus stopped and stared. A gigantic black female spider gazed back at him compassionately. Her eyes were a deep gold that was languid and bright. Dripping with dark red venom, her teeth were white with the tearing of flesh.

“What do you mean,” the fetus peeped. “Why am I here?”
The spider sighed. “My dear, as your spirit meandered through the strings of my web, in another world you were an unborn child. When your body was caught in my web, your thread of life in that world broke because your mother plucked you from your womb.”

“Why?” the fetus cried. “Didn’t she love me?”
The spider looked grave. “Your mother did what she could to prevent both you and her from suffering. It would have been wrong to bring you into the world when it was not safe or stable enough to support you.”

The fetus frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Your mother loved you, and cared about the responsibilities of bringing you up. But you were conceived in a way that hurt her badly. She was brutally raped by a man she trusted, and that left scars that could not be healed in time to birth you.”

“Tell me more,” said the fetus. “Who was my father?”
Tears like molten lava pooled in the spider’s eyes.

“My child,” she burst out. “Your mother’s rapist was married to her sister. The three of them lived together in a remote old village in southern India. Your mother was innocent, and at the tender age of 16. She didn’t notice his lascivious gazes until it was too late.”
The spider paused. The fetus’s eyes grew cloudy again. Nodding, the spider went on.

“Your mother’s rapist bode his time. One day, when his wife had left their hut to draw water from the well, he drunk himself silly and surreptitiously locked all the doors. He caught your mother by her long, black braid and threw her onto his cot. He violated her again and again. Her throat was choked; her screams were smothered by his big meaty hands.”

The spider looked at the fetus. “I hope you don’t mind my telling you this,” she said. “As a child you are wiser than grown-ups, and deserve to know the truth.”

“Go on.” said the fetus.

“For days your mother was clammy with fear and shock. Then her body began to change-she vomited often, and then grew monstrously large with you. Everyone knew what had happened: they laughed at her and called her a slut. Her brother-in-law demanded she marry him. Your mother’s sister, too, said that she must be her co-wife now. The villagers all said that, because he had stolen the jewel of her virtue, she was now his as well.”

The fetus covered its face with his tiny arms. “Alas!” it cried. “Did no one have mercy on her?”

The spider smiled. “One day, as luck would have it, a feminist doctor from the city came to the village. Your mother was struck by her straightened hair and stylish clothes. She had arrived to teach the women of the village about contraception. Your mother didn’t understand much of what she said, but believed she might know what to do about her situation. So after the presentation she approached her and quietly told the woman her story. That night, the two of them slunk out of the village, hitching an auto-rikshaw to the nearest abortion clinic. Your mother hovered like a shadow behind the other woman, as she explained the situation. The doctors were very accommodating; they ushered her unto a comfortable bed and administered RU-426, a good drug upon her. In a few minutes it was over, entirely without pain. Your body was drawn from hers, as smoothly as the ebb and flow of the tide, and here you are.”

The fetus smiled serenely. “Thank you for telling me this, madam. I am at peace now, and can forgive my mother for taking my life. If I may ask, who are you?”

The spider’s eyes glittered like yellow topaz. “Why, my child,” she said, her voice sprinkled with the love of all the mothers in the world. “I am Grandmother Spider, and I am here to help you find your path in life.”
The fetus’s face brightened. “I am to be reborn on earth?” it cried.
“Whenever you’re ready,” She said. “And whenever a couple is ready to love you?”
“I’d like to go as soon as possible,” said the fetus.

Grandmother Spider pierced a hole in the darkness with her sharp black talon. An iridescent channel opened up, beyond which a sterile, pristine hospital was visible. Grandmother Spider snapped the threads of neon light that bound the fetus to her web. Its ephemeral soul made its way down the path and entered the womb of a beautiful, golden-complexioned woman asleep on a hospital bed.

The Black Serpent and the Mother Cow

It was early morning in an unusually dry year in the desert. The sky was blood red with the first bright gold rays of a soon to be blazing sun. Parched yellow sand stretched for miles around, with an occasional large gnarled, prickly cactus. It was impossible to perceive any variation in the monotonous landscape with the naked eye. The sheer heat and loneliness of the place was able to set one’s head reeling, stomach churning, and one’s eyes rolling to the back of one’s head with madness. It was a land where anyone who dared enter would be put to a dangerous test of survival. Hours passed. The sky turned a brick-hard blue that stretched across the heavens. The sun had now fully climbed its way into the sky like a burning heart of an Aztec sacrificial victim. Its inexorable rays beat down on the sand, which sparkled like the edges of a blazing discus. In the height of day the sand reached a temperature to which, if any human dared to walk there, their feet would blister and char as if they tread on the burning hot embers of glowing coals.
Within a hole under one of the thorniest cacti a snake had come to live. He was old and weak. His black body was long, but with hunger his scales had lost their luster. He had five crumpled hooded heads, each with a pair of dull red eyes. His long tail was so thin his bones were clearly outlined underneath. He was so frail he rarely left his hole to look for food.
Suddenly, in the distance, a completely unexpected sight appeared. A beautiful snow-white cow, apparently strayed from her herd, lumbered along with a strange, unusual grace. She appeared unaffected by the heat. Her ears were long and silky. On the top of her head two short, stubby horns were perched. Her nose was wet and her legs were slender. As she walked on strange things happened to the dessert. She looked around unseeingly with her soft, benevolent brown eyes. Flower petals and soft tufts of grass grew under her hooves. She looked sad and uneasy. Then it was noticed her udder was full to bursting point with milk. She badly needed to be milked, and there was no one to drink what she had to offer. With every step she took a patch of lush, sweet grass grew. The prickly cacti burst into bloom. For the first time in many years, the sky rumbled with dark clouds. The cow appeared unaware of the effect she was having on the desert. It began to rain in earnest. The parched-up earth of the desert gratefully and eagerly sucked up as much water as possible. The cow closed her eyes. As the last showers of rains ceased, the cow gazed at the sky as the clouds gingerly parted to expose the wet, peeping sun.
The five-headed serpent was watching her. His red eyes glowed, and he watched her intently the way a hunter would at a particularly swift deer. Then, slowly, he slithered out of his hole and, adopting a sleek manner, approached the cow. “Mother,” he hissed, bobbing his five withered heads in respect, “Mother, I am hungry. Please bless me and let me take part in a share of your milk.” The cow smiled, and her eyes sparkled with sympathy and maternal love. “Of course, my child,” she said in a lilting croon, “How can a mother refuse her child?” She did not see the odd red glimmering in the snake’s hungry eyes. The snake raised the largest of his five heads and covered the cow’s udder with his mouth. In the silence of the desert there was only the gurgling sound of his drinking the sweet creamy nectar of the cow’s milk.

A month passed. Every day the cow would graze by the hole where the snake lived, and every morning he would partake of the milk she nurtured him with. It was noticed the snake was growing and gaining weight. A new head was slowly sprouting from his thick neck. His eyes were brighter, and his scales gleamed too. His reflexes changed. He left his hole more and more often. Soon he was eating like he never had before. He devoured the mice and rats of the desert, silently gliding over to them, sedating them with burning venom and finally, spitting out their bones. He snapped up frogs and tarantulas. Soon he became a terror of the desert. It was said that a drop of his venom could reduce a number of cacti to ashes.

The cow watched his behavior and winced. “Why must my son eat flesh when he has my milk to nurture him?” she wondered. The next moment, however, she consoled herself. “The way it is in my nature to eat grass, so to it is in his to eat other, smaller animals. It is an animal’s duty to stay true to its nature. If an animal is true to itself, one can never say it has done wrong.”

One blazingly hot day, the cow was resting among the shrubs of the tree. The snake was coiled up beside her, his six heads bobbing with drowsiness. The bones of several animals surrounded him, bleached to a blinding white in the sun. A weary traveler approached. His eyes were red with sleep deprivation. His head cloth was moist with perspiration. Red boils were popping all over his face from the heat. His clothes were torn, and in his knapsack his belongings were constantly falling out. He spotted the cow. In an instant, his red round eyes widened. His mouth frothed with desperate hunger. The cow’s eyes sparkled with sympathy. “My son,” she said, endearingly, “Are you hungry? Please drink as much of my milk as will give you strength.” The man hardly seemed to have heard her. His eyes were very bright. He laughed a cruel, happy little laugh in a voice grated with a horrible sort of inhuman hunger. He drew a sharp, wicked-looking knife, and rushed toward her. His intent clear, the cow, in a terrible fright, attempted to gallop away. However, suddenly, the man let out a terrible prolonged shriek. His eyes rolled back into his sockets. Before the cow’s very eyes, in the hot desert, the traveler went very white, and then fell dead.

Slowly, panting, the cow turned her frightened eyes toward the snake. The serpent looked at her with tearful eyes. ‘Mother,” he said in a voice choked with unusual emotion, “At first I only wished to use you for my own purposes and then discard of your services when they no longer served my purposes. But now, I do not know what has come over me. I have become a new person by your grace. I cannot change who I am, and yet I have grown to love you more than I have ever loved anyone in my life. I am by nature a ruthless killer, but I could not let you die. Mother, please forgive me,” He began to weep with real sorrow. The cow’s eyes glistened. “My son,” she whispered. The snake wrapped himself around her and together, mother and son stood, embracing each other, overwhelmed by natural love for one another.

In due course, after many a happy time filled with love for her snake-child, the cow grew to be very old. Her once-strong and supple body grew weak. She soon lost the ability to make it rain, to make sweet grass grow. Her white coat grew thin and dirty, her bones began to show. The desert soon became as dry as it once had been before she came. However, the snake stubbornly refused to leave her. One day, the cow called the snake to her. “My son,” she whispered lovingly, “I am dying. My throat is parched. Please give me something to drink.” Her son looked at her in alarm. He lowered his head and was completely silent. The cow smiled sadly. “My son,” she said. “The time has come for me to breathe my last. I would rather leave this world quickly, without pain, by the hands of one I love. I do not wish to fester here dying of thirst. Please give me something to drink.” The snake hesitated a little while longer. Then finally, he nodded. The cow knelt by him and opened her mouth, and the snake poured his dark venom into it. The desert sunset looked like bright red blood mingling with pure, sparkling water in the distance.