Serpent Moon Story

This short story is a sequel to Bad in the Bayou Rises with the Moon and was unlocked through progression during the Serpent Moon event. The lore blog A Serpent's Kiss serves as a prologue.

## Chapter 1

The Moon, in all her glory, was dying. Even those who knew nothing of the corruption could sense her decline. She had taken on a sickly glow that cast a light of dread and misfortune on New Orleans. The ignorant and the innocent could do nothing but look up at the source of that disquieting light with reverence and growing trepidation. Those untouched by The Moon’s first assault were beginning to turn. Panic began to spread, and alongside it came despair, exposing more hearts to the devastation of her pallid effervescence. Oh Night’s Eye, Mother of Twilight and Tide! Could your steady pulse fall still? Could your light be dimmed, and put out?

Those who knew of the corruption were recruited to end the tragedy. Hunters from all walks of life and faith gathered behind Mr. Chary, hoping that in helping him solve his problems, they might also solve their own. But hope is a slippery thing, easily corrupted.

Kevin Linus watched from the window of his home by the pond and the willow. Outside, Mr. Chary waited beside the circle he had drawn in the dirt on so many Moonlit nights before. He would not have to wait long. We are all slaves to habit, and desire, in the end.

The sound of her footsteps proceeded her grim silhouette, and Mary Ochenkov walked straight into the circle without hesitation or greeting. The dirty, dripping bag in her hands began to burn first. Her clothes quickly followed, and as the screams began again, Kevin wept. He would scream with her, would share her pain and stop the terrible cycle. But though he tried, no sound escaped his mouth.

As the flames grew, twisting their way around Mary’s neck, she suddenly snapped her head toward Kevin, a knowing, accusatory expression on her face. While Mr. Chary looked on in sadistic glee, Mary crossed the ritual markings, sparks erupting where they broke, and ran toward the house. When she reached the door she screamed and tore at the panels until her nails broke and bled.

"WHY DIDN’T YOU HELP ME!?” she wailed.

And then he woke up.

## Chapter 2

All the encounters had been the same. The chase. The trails of blood. The confrontation and the defeat. As cyclical and constant as The Moon.

The only thing that had changed were the snakes.

Kevin Linus had been pursuing Mr. Orwell Chary for weeks across southern Louisiana. From New Orleans to Baton Rouge and back, the boy had followed the AHA Administrator’s trail, his focus interrupted only by the Hunter-assassins Mr. Chary hired to stop him. But The Moon had been gracious in her blessing, and Kevin had gained an otherworldly intuition for gunplay and combat. All went back to Mr. Chary unable to Hunt.

He finally cornered Mr. Chary in Ascension Parish.

"My my, how you’ve grown!” Mr. Chary said as he spread his arms in mock welcome. His three Hunter companions kept their guns warily trained on the boy.

"Haven’t you done enough?” Kevin replied, pointing his pistol at Mr. Chary’s head. But all the man did was smile.

"Young man, you’re in my way.” At that Mr. Chary snapped his fingers, and a shot rang out into the night. Kevin looked down to see a red blossom blooming from a hole in his stomach. He looked up, and a second shot rang out.

## Chapter 3

Kevin fell to his knees as he clutched his bloody stomach with a keening wail.

"What a wonderful sound,” Mr. Chary said. “Truly fitting that it's the last thing anyone will hear from you.” Mr. Chary walked over to the boy and kicked him onto his back. Tears welled in Kevin’s eyes as he groaned and convulsed. But when he moved his hands to expose the bullet wound, he found it had transformed from bloody blossom to writhing vista of protrusions and pulsing sores.

And then a snake slithered from his bloody sleeve.

The snake was small, milky eyed and covered in the blood and viscera of Kevin's flesh. Kevin ripped at the shirt, widening the tear to reveal a coiled brood of small snakes nested in the wound, as if just hatched, scaly maggots uncoiling themselves from his flesh.

## Chapter 4

For two agonizing hours Mr. Orwell Chary kneeled over the boy’s body, tearing and slicing at Kevin’s flesh as he moaned in tired agony.

"What’s happening?” Kevin asked. The question was met with silence, and another incision. From the fresh, gaping wound, Mr. Chary plucked the body of a snake.

Again and again Mr. Chary pulled a snake from the wound; again and again the animals sunk their venomous fangs into his hands. It was just what Mr. Chary needed, and with each overwhelming, nauseating rush, he thrust his hands deeper into the wound, probing for more.

The largest snake came from the final incision, a bloody, jagged line from hip to heart. Mr. Chary’s assistants struggled to force it into a bag, and as it writhed, too powerful even for three hulking men, it clamped its jaws around the ankle of the tallest Hunter. It provided him no rush, rather leaving its victim paralyzed and helpless, silent witness to Mr. Chary’s administrations. Was this really what they were fighting for? To allow this man to torture an innocent boy?

"Thank you, Kevin,” Mr. Chary whispered. “You’ve earned my mercy.” The Administrator drew close, holding his gun to the boy’s temple. He caressed the trigger, savoring the moment. Kevin looked to The Moon, and back to Mr. Chary. With his last strength, he twisted his body and sunk his teeth into the man’s wrist.

## Chapter 5

Deep in Kingsnake Mine, Isaac Powell, known to most only as the Night Seer, watched Ira Ozols weaving. Strips of dried flesh dipped in rosemary oil, willow splints, and straw combined to form the shape of a large, basket-like structure. Oil dripped from its plats, and footsteps echoed from the direction of the nearest mineshaft.

The flickering lamp was disturbed by a faint breeze, and the shadows danced as Mr. Chary entered the dark cavern. He regarded Ira’s work and nodded. He then turned to acknowledge the imposing, hooded Hunter who sat in the corner, gently stroking the head of the enormous snake coiled around their neck.

“Isaac, you didn’t tell me you had already met!” Mr. Chary regarded the figure in the corner with respect. A rare occurrence.

”He keeps to himself,” came the gruff reply.

The figure rose, and turned towards the Night Seer, menacing.

”Isaac, I believe they would rather not be addressed as he,” returned the Administrator. “The Viper is a valued guest. Show some respect.”

At this, the Viper stepped into the swaying light of the lamp. They were dressed simply, practically, feet bare and undisturbed by the rocky floor. The large snake coiled around their neck lifted its head, appraising the two men. The Night Seer cautiously nodded.

”My apologies,” Isaac said. “We’ haven’t had the opportunity to exchange many pleasantries. I was surprised to find the Sinners were already involved.”

“I’ve been looking for someone fit to the task for a long time. The Sinners sent the Viper, and...” Mr. Chary looked to the Viper to provide the name of the snake.

“Delara,” came the Viper’s response, their voice the rough whisper of a person who does not often speak. At the final syllable, the snake adjusted itself around the Viper’s throat.

Mr. Chary nodded, then spoke again. “It’s time for The Night of the Hunter and the Sinners to bury their quarrels. We need to work together. Much as that pains us both.”

“You think Finch would like hearing you say that?” Powell scoffed.

"Isaac, you know I believe in your vision, but I must maintain my position with Finch until the time is right.” Something dangerous glinted in Mr. Chary’s eyes as he spoke. Isaac grunted. “But politics aside, this is why we’re here” Mr. Chary raised his arm, and a snake silently slithered from his sleeve. “There's a new breed. Already adults after only a few days, exquisite venom, and so...hungry.”

Mr. Chary paused before looking between Isaac and Viper.

“Simply insatiable.” It was unclear if he was referring to the snake or himself. He smiled.

## Chapter 6

Ira Ozols’ mother had taught her to weave baskets, and she still found comfort in the repetition of the work, now seeking distraction from thoughts about what she would be asked to do.

The Night Seer had trusted her with the task, much to the chagrin of Nadia, his most loyal acolyte. As the others argued and planned, Ira wondered about the relationship between Mr. Chary and the Night Seer. Who was exploiting who? But she didn’t really care. It was the Night Seer’s vision that interested her. Until she found herself left alone with Mr. Chary.

He spoke: “Ira! It’s so nice to see you again. And with Mr. Powell no less.” Mr. Chary’s whisper set the Night Follower’s skin on edge. She suppressed a shiver.

“Where Isaac goes, I follow,” Ira responded firmly. The Administrator smiled.

“I see he trusts you,” said Mr. Chary, “intimately.” He paused at that.

“We have a common goal.” Almost finished with the structure, she began to check for unintentional gaps.

“And what goal is that?” The Administrator asked.

”You said you believed his vision. I heard you. I wouldn’t think you needed to ask.”

Isaac Powell had told all of his acolytes what he’d seen. But Ira felt that something was missing. That he had kept something from them too terrible – or too important – to share freely.

Mr. Chary kneeled beside the altar and spoke. “I see he didn’t trust you enough to tell you either. Well. What if I told you I knew how to find out.” He stood and offered her a hand. “Come with me. Perhaps I can show you.”

With just a moment’s hesitation, she took his hand.

## Chapter 7

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid! Do not be discouraged! For the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” Mary Burgess spoke the words into the stock of her Vetterli before looking to her partner. Circe Elias looked back at her and murmured a quick “amen” before moving forward into the night. Circe wasn’t exactly religious, but with the mission ahead of them any help – divine or otherwise – would be welcome. The Moon was full and bright, and they moved slowly and surely.

Mr. Chary had introduced the two women after they had accepted his contract. Mary was easy to convince: The Bayou was full of sin, and Mr. Chary was a servant of the Lord. If there was someone after the Administrator’s life, then she would ask God for forgiveness and do what had to be done.

Circe was more difficult to convince. She was single-minded in her pursuit of the creature that had murdered her sister and stolen her skin, and as the last heiress of the Elias fortune, she didn’t care about gold or glory. Mr. Chary used an old trinket, a locket with a portrait of Circe’s family, to earn a favor from the Witch Hunter.

As Circe and Mary threaded their way through the Bayou, they ignored the familiar moans and shrieks of the Grunts and Hives that stumbled through the night, and the rustle of the Armoreds papery casing. But what caught their attention was a soft whimpering, human and suffering, from within a half-collapsed shack, camouflaged by rotting clumps of netting and earth.

Circe nodded at Mary, and they readied their weapons. This was the place, and their quarry clearly injured. They’d be done in time to take morning communion.

## Chapter 8

Two snakes had remained at Kevin’s side, both comfort and shackle. He would never forget how it felt as Mr. Chary’s long nails clawed into his flesh, as the scaly, writhing bodies were pulled from his wounds, and the delirium of the venom they left behind in their panicked bites. Now the snakes both protected him – keeping the monsters of the Bayou away – and guarded him – a prisoner in the shack where Mr. Chary had left him. It was only when The Moon was full once again that he found the strength to rise.

He staggered to the door, but when he pushed it, rather than swinging open, it creaked, and fell off the hinges. The sound as it hit the warped boards of the porch took the two women lurking outside by surprise.

Mary and Circe looked at the boy now silhouetted by the rotten frame, his face ruddy with tears, and countless scars blemishing neck, face, and arms. Two snakes hissed at his ankles. Wearily, the boy raised his pistol, the moonlight glinting off the clinking chain of bullet chambers.

Circe looked at Mary. "This him? He’s barely grown.” She thought of her sister.

But Mary’s answer was certain. "Even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light.” She began to raise her weapon when Kevin spoke.

"Mr. Chary sent you, didn’t he?” Kevin slowly lowered his weapon. He hoped they would let him explain.

Mary narrowed her eyes, but before she could respond, a strange silhouette filled the broken frame behind Kevin: A hooded figure, with a large snake coiled around their neck.

"Enough.” The voice that spoke was hoarse and raw.

## Chapter 9

The Viper slowly brought their arm up to Delara’s fanged mouth. The snake flicked her tongue once, twice, and then gently sunk her teeth into the Viper’s wrist. The Viper’s body quaked as Delara’s venom flowed through their veins and into their heart.

The Viper and Delara belonged to each other, and there would be hell to pay if one of them did not survive this fight. With Delara’s venom coursing through the Viper’s veins, the two were preternatural fighters. But the hallowed gifts of The Moon kept Kevin agile and deadly, and every shot rang true.

Meanwhile, snakes of all sizes were rapidly converging outside of the shack, surrounding Mary Burgess and Circe Elias where they now stood back-to-back. Inside, bullets ricocheted and splintered the walls as Kevin and the Viper fought. Kevin had grown weary of violence and death.

Yet violence and death had not grown weary of him. Delara approached from the right, jaw unlocked and fangs dripping, and the Viper from the left. Kevin fired at the Viper, but Delara, lunging to protect her ward, intercepted, and Kevin’s bullet met flesh.

A broken airy scream rang out from the shack.

## Chapter 10

The Viper sat catatonic on the floor where they had collapsed in worry and grief, cradling Delara in their arms. Circe had applied a healing salve, and Mary had bandaged the wound and staunched the bleeding. But the damage had been done. As Delara sought comfort around the Viper’s neck, it was Mary and Circe who set out to follow Kevin’s trail.

As they left, another visitor arrived: One of The Moon’s larger snakes, mottled brown, and the only survivor of the slaughter. The Viper remained still as it approached, tongue tasting the air, slithering from right to left. When it reached striking distance, it paused, its tongue tasted the air once more. Then it struck.

But the Viper was quicker, pushing one thumb down the snake’s throat and gripping the head. The snake struggled to bite, its fangs dripping venom, but the Viper’s grip was too strong. The Viper had been taught to respect predators – and that every predator has a weakness. This abomination was no different.

"Delara, let us feast.” The Viper moved quickly, taking The Moon’s snake between their teeth and tearing, giving the smaller pieces to Delara. Then, with the now slack jaw of the dead snake, the assassin dug the fangs, still covered in venom, into their own neck.

The effect was immediate. The Viper heard conversations and screams as if of a crowd, reeling at the injection of raw experiential information. They heard Mr. Chary convincing Kevin to join him in the circle. They heard the screams of those burned alive in Chary’s dirt circle. They heard Kevin crying and waking up from nightmares, and the screams of Mary Ochenkov.

They felt Kevin’s pain.

It lasted only a few seconds, though it felt like hours to the Viper, and when it ended, the Viper finally understood. Kevin was not the enemy, and Mr. Chary had to be stopped.

The Viper rose to their feet and gently wrapped Delara around their neck once more. From a pouch at their side, they pulled a face shield made of wicker and placed it on their face. They would face many more snakes before they removed it.

## Chapter 11

The vile fumes of the black dye filled Ira Ozols’ nose, and she fought the feeling of panic rising in her chest as she tightened the blindfold around her eyes. She did not know how Chary had learned of the ritual, but immediately, she could feel it had worked. As she wandered through the cool dark of her mind’s eye, the visions began to come in bright intense flashes. She stepped tentatively into the tub of black liquid, aware of the dye staining her legs and pooling in the surrounding mud. Pulling a razor from her pocket, she began to shred her robes, and looked into the light.

The truth of the Night Seer’s vision was monstrous, and he had kept it from them all, pretending to a purpose to which he had no allegiance. Everything they’d done would bring pain and horror to those they loved, and she would say and do things she already regret. Ira cut at her right sleeve. It fell into the dye.

The Night Seer following her own tracks.

The razor cutting through her left sleeve.

Mr. Chary telling Isaac of her betrayal.

The razor meeting with soft flesh.

Isaac raising his gun to her head.

Blood pooling in the gash and dripping into the inky black water.

She wretched again, and wept.

## Chapter 12

Kevin didn’t make it far from the shack. Instead, he curled himself into a patch of brush and rocked, the screams of the Viper over Delara becoming one with the screams of Mary Ochenkov as she burned. He wished The Moon would comfort him again, but she too was sick, and tormented. He had failed.

So he rocked. And rocked and rocked.

It didn’t take Mary and Circe long to find him. He was tired, so tired, so he sat very still, and waited. Next: voices. The Viper, now masked, had caught up to the hunting party as well. He had failed, and now he had been found. He did not make a sound as the women pulled him from the bushes.

"Why is it,” The Viper’s rough whisper began, muted slightly by the wicker mask. “That that man wants you dead?”

"Because I want to stop him. If I don’t stop him, people will keep dying and The Moon will fall.”

"How many have you killed?” The Viper asked.

"None! I made sure none of them died!” Kevin was vehement. “The only blood on my hands will be his.”

The Viper looked to Mary and Circe, nodding at the expression they found there. They lowered their weapons.

Mary was the first to speak. "Child I cannot, in good faith strike you down knowing what I know now.” The Viper had told her of their vision, and it matched what she had heard from the Hunters Kevin had bested.

"The bastard was probably lying to me too. Let’s go see what he has to say for himself.” Circe offered her hand to Kevin, and when he cautiously took it, hoisted him to his feet.

The Viper picked up Delara and placed her once more around their neck. They nodded.

"To the mine.”

## Chapter 13

The group of four cautiously entered Kingsnake Mine to the sound of gunfire echoing from its depths. Mr. Chary had told only a handful of Hunters about his sanctum. They paused, listening, but as they did, the gunfire stopped.

"Enter now and witness the end of the Night Seer or go your own way.” The voice echoing out from the mine belonged to none other than Ira Ozols. The four looked at each other, then headed deeper into the mine.

At a junction, in the flickering light of the oil lamps, they found Ira Ozols and the Night Seer poised in a stand off with weapons drawn. They were both ragged from fighting, and bullet cases littered the floor.

"And what’s all this about?” Circe asked.

"His vision is nothing but a means to send us all to hell. I will not let him corrupt another soul for his gain,” Ira said. “And I,” here she took a deep breath, clearly winded from the fight, “am going to stop him.”

"I will cut out this false seer’s tongue and we can continue our work,” the Night Seer hissed in reply, eyes still fixed on Ira. “And I see you’ve brought the boy.”

"The boy isn't our enemy,” Circe said, walking confidently towards the Night Seer. “We’ve been lied to.”

Kevin felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder. It was the Viper. He took a step forward.

"Listen, ok? Mr. Chary. We need to stop him.” Kevin's voice grew more confident as he spoke.

"Stop me from doing what exactly?” Everyone turned at the sound of Mr. Chary’s voice. But he was not in the room – a trick of the mine’s acoustics, he must be deeper down. Kevin began to panic as visceral memories ripped through him at the sound. But he was not so shaken to forget the gun at his hip, and now he raised it, ready to face Mr. Chary once and for all.

It was time to end this.

## Chapter 14

There was someone – something – in the mine. Deep. Trapped. Keening with grief and rage.

Never mind that Ira could not focus on the figures of Kevin or Mr. Chary in her visions now – both were blurry, hazy, blocked. Never mind that Isaac Powell had his gun trained on her and that four more arrivals had just complicated their standoff. That she could handle. But whatever was at the bottom of that mine? She wasn’t sure any of them were prepared to handle that.

The others continued their arguments, unaware, Mr. Chary buying time with meaningless words and empty smiles. Kevin stammering on about The Moon. And that damn nun, always quoting the Bible. Mr. Chary was addressing them all. “And what can this child give you that I cannot?”

"Your honey words will no longer tempt God’s children!” Mary went to stand by Kevin’s side. The boy was trembling, but he steeled himself for the fight. Circe and the Viper joined Mary beside Kevin, forming a line against Mr. Chary.

"But the devil gives excellent rewards,” Mr. Chary retorted. He looked at the four Hunters before him and the two seers behind them. They were all talented Hunters and if they managed to work together, Mr. Orwell Chary would lose his life. But if had just one Hunter on his side, and a little time, he might make it out alive.

"Mister, please. Whatever you’re doing, whatever you have done, it can end here and now.” Kevin trembled as he confronted the Administrator once more.

"You’re right my dearest Kevin, it can, and it will. You’ve helped me more than you’ll ever know. Farewell.” And at that, he snapped his fingers again. From behind the four Hunters Isaac Powell moved his sight from Ira to Kevin, and fired. And Kevin fell.

In that moment, it felt as if time had stopped. The Hunters froze in disbelief as Kevin’s body crumpled to the ground. They did not try to stop Mr. Chary and Powell as they ran towards the surface-ward passage. The Viper fell to their knees and cradled Kevin in their arms. It was the dynamite, lit by Mr. Chary as he ran, that brought them all to their senses.

An explosion, a rumble, and a collapse: they were trapped in Kingsnake Mine.

## Chapter 15

The lamps hanging from the walls stopped shaking as the dust and rock settled around the five Hunters left in the mine. Circe walked over to assess the damage to the entrance. They could dig themselves out with the tools left by the miners, but it would take hours. She looked back to the Viper and the boy.

The Viper gently cradled Kevin as he bled out on the floor. Enemy or uneasy ally; no one deserved this.

And then Kevin blinked.

"Where am I this time?” The boy looked around and came face to face with Delara and the Viper, both shocked to see Kevin alive.

"A Lazarus among us,” Mary whispered as she and Circe ran over to join them.

"How is this possible?” Circe asked as she kneeled down to Kevin. She raised his head to observe his now-mending wounds. Bone and flesh popping in like a mushroom in bloom.

"The Moon! I can't rest until she’s better.” Kevin closed his eyes, curling into the arms of the Viper as he healed. “A Linus isn’t supposed to break promises.” Delara curled her tail around the boy’s arm in silent reassurance.

The three Hunters exchanged a determined glance. They had seen how cruel Mr. Chary could be. "We will help you end this.” The Viper spoke, but all nodded in agreement.

On the other side of the mine, Ira gasped. The thing in Kingsnake’s depths was coming into focus.

"We’ll have to fight soon. Get the boy to safety,” Ira said as she reloaded her gun.

"What- “ Circe was interrupted by a piercing wail. Kevin, still healing, thrashed, trying to crawl away from the sound. He’d heard that scream of anguish countless times in his nightmares.

"What is it?” The Viper pretended to be calm but the rasp in their whisper gave away their worry.

"She’s here.” He couldn’t say more.

Something was coming to greet them from the depths of the mine.