TotW 172: Year of the Snake - SUBMISSIONS

[Shankbot de Bodemloze]

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Year of the Snake

5 Keywords:
China
Reptile
Fireworks
Venom
Birth

Rules and awards

5 keywords that have to be used in the story (please place these words in bold so they can easily be seen by the moderators)
- Word limitation of minimum 200 but maximum 500 words INCLUDING all titles, footnotes or any other part deemed part of the submission, in a spoiler
- Deadline is the following Sunday
- Minimum 3 submissions to start the competition
- If you are a contestant you are honour bound to not read other contestants' writings until you have submitted yours.

Please note that all rules including word count and key words will be strictly enforced. Rule breakers will be disqualified from the vote.

Check your WORD COUNT here.

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Please vote for my story in ToTW.

Please vote for your favourite story. (allowed)

Awards

Each winning story will receive 1 point, if you compete in the other Writers' Study competitions this point will be combined with the ones you have won already won.

6 points - bronze medal
12 points - silver medal
24 points - golden medal

[Ybbon]

resssserved my ssslippery ssssserpent friendssssss

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Year of the Snake

It was a shame that he had to kill China Blue, but it was his time now and her years had passed. It had ever been the way with the Dragon Lords, there could only be one True Lord and it was time to usurp the old Lord.

China Blue opened one eye a fraction and watched the pretender preen and puff his chest out, summoning up his courage to start the ritual of challenge. Since his birth many centuries ago, Red Belly had been one to watch and she had even thought that he may make a suitable consort at one time, but the ambition had become something unpleasant in him, not seeing that working as her consort he could gain the power and be handed Lordship in time he had deceived himself that he had to take her Lordship by force.

Slowly she opened her eye fully, a startling blue that begat her name and breathed in the scent of Red Belly. He was playing to the audience and had not noticed that she regarded him with baleful malice, saving her energy for the fight ahead. Red Belly was a large Hungarian Red, magnificent and muscular, every one of which glistened with the scented oils his slaves had covered him in to best preen and strut before the lesser serpents of the court, thrusting his wings to their fullest extent to best show his size and athleticism.

China White, a small Peruvian Blue looked far less worthy in comparison, scales dulled and sloughing off in places with a large chunk of her tail missing and holes in her wings. “So you seek to take my place Yellow Belly?” She hissed with venom, “You who was so in love with yourself you failed to take the opportunities I gave you to take my place? You strut and preen and show yourself to those simpering courtiers that are distracted by pretty baubles? You know nothing of real power and would bring my realm to ruin while you consorted with each of them making little bastard reptiles fit for nothing.

Red Belly had started with her first words each word cutting deep to his own self-doubts. With a roar and blast of fire he leaped for her throne, but as with those before, he had sorely misjudged his readiness and China Blues abilities, his great jaws snapped where her head had been but a moment before. Fireworks exploded in his own head as her teeth ripped into his skull, landing deftly on his back and digging her talons in with a relentless grip.

With a shake and wrench she ripped his skull open and plunged her teeth into his brain, “Get this meat out of here,” She hissed at the courtiers, gore and blood dripping from her fangs “and make sure your next pretender has more brain than muscle if you want them to succeed, I am still the One True Dragon Lord.”

word count: 496

[Confederate Jeb]

Reserved.

WC: 412

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

The fireworks light up the night sky in bright blues and reds. I sit on my couch in my small apartment in Hong Kong watching the news, all accounts of the celebrations in mainland China or the United States or wherever. New year parties never concerned me, I didn't drink after all, so I didn't have a reason to be out dancing and getting wasted. Wasted. Yes, that was the word that described it so...perfectly. What a waste.

Growing bored of the "waste," I turn my attention to the many reptile containers scattered onto various tables and stands. The Naja naja were more active than usual, the Bungarus caeruleus less, theCalliophis bivirgatus about right for this time of night. I check each container, as is my habit, in a calculated manor. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, I return to my spot on the couch. The brilliant intellect that everyone in college wished to turn towards such lofty, if unobtainable, goals as curing cancer or solving world hunger had become a venom harvester for assassins and cartels. It took someone with a supernatural attention for detail to handle this line of work, so I was the perfect fit for the job. It paid more money than the killers I helped ever made as well, making me the envy of the few who knew my life.

Why am I here, tending to the birth of snakes and the poison of murderers. Because the world is nothing but a waste. People say they want to solve problems, and they go through the motions as if they are trying, but they really don't care. They like nights like tonight, where they can be themselves and not care about anything or anybody else. My work lets me assist one scumbag to kill another scumbag while I stand on the sidelines, removing a few hundred million dollars a month from their stockpile. Who is doing the real service to humanity, a species that deserves no such fortune? The man who tells everyone who will listen to him how he will bring peace and change, only to sleep with every girl in sight and lie and cheat and steal just to supposedly be in the position to bring all the lovely things to the world? Or the man who actually does something, even if that job appears cruel and evil to the outsider? You might say we are one and the same, but I think differently.

[Kip]

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Chinatown. The only place in the city where an Italian sticks out.

I got my guitar case slung over my shoulder as I turn the corner where Manhattan ends and China begins.

Usually we keep our hands clean of these streets. Sure, we might pop around for an egg roll now and then, but there ain't much else to be had around here. These immigrant schmucks usually don't have a penny to their name. Or a Yuan, or a Yen, or whatever it is these yellow bastards carry around to pay for their opium. Opium ain't right, ya know? Ain't right at all. They inject that venom right into their veins and collapse in the alleys as it eats them inside out. One of the rats emerges from his trash-can shanty and pulls on my coat, spitting gibberish and gesturing toward his open hand. I'll give him a few seconds to disappear before I put my foot up his ass. He yanks on the guitar case. Maybe he hopes I'm a street performer and some change will trickle out. He gets a fist to the eye-socket instead.

Never touch the guitar case.

He slinks back to his hole like a reptile, bleeding from a cut on his brow. Opium addicts live in the garbage because they are garbage. I pass a shady duo lurking beneath an awning. They watch me pass with wet red eyes. Dealers, I'll bet. I could have my fill of that poison if I wanted, but my momma raised me better than that. I smoke too much and I drink too much, but so does my momma. I adjust my hat, a fine brown fedora just like the movie stars wear. Momma mailed it to me, all the way from Cotanzaro. Sewed it herself. Probably cost her a month's wage for the cloth. She's been sacrificing everything for me since the day of my birth. I'll get her on a boat some day. Give her a new life in the city. Take her to see the fireworks. She'd love the fireworks. For now, I gotta be the one to make sacrifices.

The restaurant looms brightly on the corner. Lanterns, streamers, gooses plucked of their feathers all hang across the windows. The rest of the street is a slum. This guy - Chon Yan or Yon Chan or some nonsense - he got himself a chunk of real estate that got real valuable real quick. Stepped on a few feet on the way to do it. A few important feet belonging to men with important friends.

I push through the door. A petite woman runs up to greet me, a paper in her hand to record my order. In the back, a couple of brutes eye me from the shadows of the kitchen. I place my guitar case on the floor and withdraw the machine-gun concealed within. "I'll have the egg roll, sweetie."

Time for the fireworks.

The mild racism is purely situational, I promise :|

[Rex Basiliscus]

I'll slither my way into this one

465 words by Word Counter.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

The Emperor sat on a wide throne, engraved with golden initials of his name. He watched as the people prostrated themselves before him, honoring the day of his birth … the courtyard was full of them. As the endless ceremony began, the crowd released, with everyone trying to shout the best blessing upon their sovereign.
The royal reptile, sign of his dynasty, crept by the throne and watched unblinkingly at the spectacle before him. The man noticed him, taking him into his arms.
‘We are most pleased, are we not?’ the lord of the peoples said. His gaze was austere, but unchanging.

As the accolades and blessings came to an end, the lord of ceremonies ordered the final gift to be presented. A dozen barrels were brought to the fore and with them a bony, old man. ‘I am Yueng, sent by the Emperor of China. I bring twelve choices before you … you must choose which one you’ll take.’

The Emperor, intrigued, leaned forward in his raised chair. ‘Why should we choose what we can take?’
The Seer responded: ‘Even a man who has everything must choose. Before you are the treasures of twelve origins, but only one of them will be gifted to you.’
The shepherd of the people rose from his golden throne, replying jeeringly: ‘We are the lord of all people, of all lands … and whichever treasures come from them are ours by the law of the sky!’ Turning to his soldiers he ordered: ‘Throw this man out of our sight and open the barrels!’

The soldiers did as they were told. Opening the barrels, they found gold from the Riverlands, black powder from the monks, iron bars from the mountains, grain from the plains, water from the lakes, texts from philosophers, stones from quarries, oil from olive groves, meat from animals, salt from the sea, clay from mudpits and wine from the vineyards.

The soldiers grabbed the last barrel enthusiastically and offered a cup of red liquid to the Emperor. He took it, glancing at the other treasures, his eyes stopping greedily on the first one. He emptied the cup with his soldiers, the people standing there until the whole barrel was emptied.

The Seer walked in silence away from the city, as fireworks began amidst the cheering, heard from the palace all the way around the land.
He knew what they received: gold to pay their soldiers, black powder to fire the cannon, iron bars to make weapons, grain, water, meat and salt to provision their army, clay to build walls, oil to light fires, stones to make projectiles and texts to learn the art of war … but for the Emperor, only one gift was chosen: a barrel of wine, mixed with venom, to liberate his people from his rule.

[Scipio Africanus]

Venom Nibbles (Reserved).

[Rex Anglorvm]

I'm in. Tried the word counter but it would not work for me, Word tells me that the story is 483 words long, can you double check SB? Thanks

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Year of the Snake

As the fireworks echoed off of the walls of the forbidden palace, Liao crept along the tiles of the roof with the assured and measured tread of a cat. He had been tasked by his master to end the life of the miserable reptile that now sat upon the imperial throne.

China had suffered war, famine and disease because of the line of useless monarchs that had ruled for the past seventy years, now after the birth of the current Emperor’s first son, his master’s patience had snapped, the old man had demanded that Liao should end the life of the Emperor so that he could assume the regency and mould the newly born baby into a fitting and noble ruler of his people.

So the assassin known as ‘the snake’ by his peers, cautiously came to the spot on the roof where below the tiles, lying in luxury he knew the Emperor would be partaking of his evening supper, no doubt this would consist of an opium pipe supplied by his European ‘friends.’

Sitting on his haunches silently and with infinite care he removed the tiles on the roof, stopping at removing three which would be sufficient for his purposes, he peered into the gap below and saw the Emperor looking glassy eyed and not of this world, a pipe in one hand whilst the other rested on the form of a concubine as far gone as the man next to her. Breathing shallowly to conserve his energy and still any nerves, he reached inside his black shirt and removed a line of cotton weighted at the end with a small lead ball, lastly he reached into his shirt and opened a small vial, slowly and without a tremor from his hands he added the snake venom from the vial to the cotton.

Silently and with the lightest of touches Liao began to feed cotton through his hands, the lead weight already performing its task of dragging the line inexorably above the head of the Emperor, Liao counted off the seconds as the poison trickled down the length of dark thread until finally it reached the lead ball, trickled over and around it and then landed unnoticed on the forehead of the ‘divine one.’

In a little over five minutes the Emperor would be dead, Liao wasted no time, he retrieved the length of cotton and dropped it in a leather pouch at his waste to avoid the touch of poison. He then replaced the roof tiles and worked his way back via the roof tops to the offices of his master; just before he entered his master’s office he dropped to the ground with the agility of a mountain cat. Liao smiled to himself, yes he may move like a cat, but he struck like a snake, yes the year of the snake had now truly begun….

[Sweaft]

Wow I just discovered this today. This is an amazing competition, and one that I would very much like to take part in. Best of luck to all contestants!

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

The Plague

"What in God's name did you just order?" I yelled at the garrison commander. He turned around, staring me in the face, the fire of hatred in his eyes burning with the same intensity as mine. His voice was monotonous and coldly efficient, and reminded me of a heartless, oppressive robot. "Orders are orders, and this is the standard protocol for dealing with stragglers that carry the plague. We cannot afford to let that happen here. The Emperor should not have let them out of China in the first place."

Standard protocol for handling the infected? I was bereft of emotions, confounded by the words the garrison commander just uttered. Words that I took as the venom of the most poisonous snake—one that’s poison could asphyxiate you in instants. This wasn't obeying orders, this was murder! This was a crime punishable by death!

A cry of intense agony erupted from below us. It was the last surviving gate guard. Two arrows pierced his knee pads, and another one sprouted in his chest. Blood was seeping out of his wounds, and yet no one attended to him.

Then the commander turned and strung his bow.

A look of pure angst and consternation entered the guard's eyes. "No, God, no!" He raised his right hand as if to ward off the blow he knew was inevitable. I caught the look in his eyes, the panic-stricken, timorous look of a man who knows his death is around the corner but can do nothing about it. That settled it for me, the fire in me burned so hot it would strike me down with my own guilt if I did nothing about it. I knew that guard. He was just sixteen, and had about as much experience in warfare as a newborn baby.

The birth of a new life sparks wild celebrations with close friends and relatives, and as such the death of one should be mourned together, as a family. I dropped my shield and twisted to face the garrison commander whom I felt was not human, but a vile, malevolent reptile. With all my strength I hurled my spear at him.

It struck him just as he let loose the arrow that snaked through the air.

Silence.

Deathly silence.

The seconds ticked by, each one bringing a convulsion to my heart, each heartbeat throbbing with the paroxysm I felt, and each time I moved I did so with a stinging, tormenting realization that I prayed would not come true.

The area around the gate was utterly devoid of movement.

The garrison commander was lying on his back, his eyes awash with the fire of a sadistic mind that still burned brightly in his pupils. As I stared into them, they set my emotions ablaze like the never-ending erupting gouts of fiery sludge in a foul lake of lava, sprouting out like fireworks in the gleaming, blazing depths of Hell.

[Mors Vigilia]

I make it 496 words

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Year of the Snake

His eyes were ringed with tiredness yet his hands moved excitedly as he reached for the microphone. He felt that he had to keep recording his memoirs now as he would surely be far too busy to continue with any regularity once he had claimed his lands. Clearing his throat, he took a sip of a smooth, exotic brandy and began to speak.

“When last I spoke my mind to you, dear listener, I spoke of my past and all that I could remember of my path here. I may begin to repeat myself in parts now, though it is merely to enunciate the import of those events, as now I shall speak not of the past, but the future.”

The man took another sip, his hands now shaking ever so slightly with repressed excitement.

“For a plan that has been years in the making, my true skill has been in keeping it from commencing prematurely, what with the multitude of different factions under my thumb, to keep even one from squirming out from beneath has been my true miracle. One of many perhaps... Ultimately these factions have been unified by our joint goal, though many would have wished for this to have already been underway three years ago, if not before…”

His voice trailed off as he looked into the middle distance thinking of how best to continue his thoughts.

“It is this year, 2013 that I have chosen finally to raise my banner and shout my claims across the world. I have perhaps been idle in gaining more allies but those I do have are resourceful and anything other than idle. If anything, I have consolidated my power here in the main kingdom, gaining small honours from the High Queen and allowing her to speak with me in public as we share council. She is worried of the activity in the northern kingdom and not without cause, my dear wife is the strongest of my allies and she already controls the northern kingdom, even if our beloved High Queen does not realise. Her Viceroy there is tied firmly by my wife, just waiting his turn to be replaced by her. Ha…”

He gave a short bark of a laugh before continuing.

“Strings… I have so many dangling from my fingers that the merest twitch now will see the world aflame… Coiled strings like cobras waiting to strike. In China they name this the Year of the Snake. Let it be so. My reptile-like operatives already flow through the High Kingdom like venom. I stand poised, ready to give the word to raise my banner high and let the fireworks proclaim my victory. Our victory. The birth of a new High Kingdom under my rightful rule.”

The glass was brought back up to his mouth as brandy splashed down his throat, quenching the dryness that was setting in. There was still so much to say and so much more to do.

[☩Lord Inquisitor Derpy Hooves☩]

First of the year? Reserved.

[Dude with the Food]

My first attempt at a TOTW. I hope it fits the 500 limit. I've messed with it since I started.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

The Wise Man and the Snakes

‘Grandfather! Grandfather, will you tell me the story? Please grandfather. I would really much like to hear it again.’ George had always loved his grandfather’s tales. Since his birth, he had dreamed he was away adventuring, with his favourite characters, saving a princess one day, slaying a dragon the next. But there was one, he never tired of.

‘Ok, ok. Sit down. Are you comfortable?’ The little boy nodded in earnest. ‘Then I’ll begin. Imagine the lands of ancient China. When most people were poor farmers. Like you and me.
Indeed once, there was a poor but wise man, who lived in a very poor village. He was a poor man his only son had died fighting so he had to manage the farm by himself.
In the next field, a very foolish man worked on his own farm. This man had big parties, with fireworks, music and feasting all night long. Way past your bedtime. He didn’t like the old man and sometimes insulted him while he worked

However, things changed. One day, two snakes slithered into the village. Everybody was scared of them and they sent out two people to deal with them; the old man and the foolish man. They walked up to them and the snakes said-’

‘Snakes can’t talk.’ George loved this bit. It was as much of a part of the story as any.

‘Oh yes they can. You just don’t listen to them. They also like lots of things you don’t know about. Like rice. One of the reptiles said “We are hungry. May we take some food? If we don’t eat, we will eat everybody here.”Their eyes glinted and venom rolled off their fangs. The men agreed that the snakes must leave but not how.

The foolish man gave one of the snakes a basket of rice and said “Be on your way now.” The wise man gave the other the same, but let it stay. The next day, the other snake returned and asked the foolish man for more food, which he gave. Then the next. Then the next. Meanwhile, the wise man showed the other snake how to grow rice every day for a month. Then, after the snake had learned how to grow rice, he set it on its way, with another basket of rice, and another of seeds. After that, he never saw the snake again.

The foolish man saw the snake every day until he died. Then his son: then his son. To this day, the snake still visits his family for food.
So, George, what is the moral of the story?’

‘Be nice to snakes?’ His usual answer.

‘No silly. If you feed a man a fish, he is fed for a day. If you teach a man to fish, you feed him for a lifetime.’

‘But that wasn’t about fish?’

‘That, my son, is for another day.’

Edit: Bolding the keywords.

[Marvzilla]

First time participating.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

"Whatcha doing boy ?"

Trainer is clearly desperate. I can´t blame him. I am clearly behind, atleast by 7 rounds.
The sweat on my chest is dripping slow, the left side of my face hurts like hell, checking
left hooks with your noggin isn´t the way to go, huh ?

"Okay listen, we can still pull this out. Feint and pull, push his nose, batter him with counters,
make him feel your bite, your venom, you understand ?!"

I just nod. It´s like a delirium, sweatened and bloodied, the deafening sounds of the crowd here in
China surrounding me. Those damned promoters brought me in to be slaughtered by the young Lion,
the new contender, while I am looking like a damn reptile, a ing sloth. But I won´t go down without a fight !

The sound of the bell rings in my ears. Trainer slaps me, mouthguard in, back to the center of the ring.
Left shoulder up, right hand glued to the face, don´t square the hips for s sake !

He comes right at me like a predator at his prey, giving the crowd the fireworks they want. He swings his
hammer of a right hand, misses. I come back with a right of myself, the loud thump tells me that I got him
good. Dip low, another hook misses, come up with a left uppercut. He staggers. Keep your composure, don´t
tire yourself out now !

He barerly holds himself against the ropes, both hands up, liver exposed. Bam ! Even I could feel that shot.
Yeah, lower your guard, target practice. Jab, right straight. Feel his bones getting rattled by my punches.

He goes down.

Ref pushes me away. He is in for the count. 7...8... he doesn´t get up. You don´t train a heart, they say.

Now it´s only me, all those cheers, they are directed at me. May this be the birth of my renewed career ?
Don´t care, sweep the sweat of my brow, adrenaline pumping. I am in the middle of this, ain´t feeling
a thing. Everybody screaming, don´t hear them. All of them embracing me, touching, don´t take notice.

Next week back to training, keeping that momentum up. Thats the game, how it´s always been.

They didn´t gave me a chance, I proved them wrong. It´s my year, the year of the snake.