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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1690014-Alais---Chapter-1
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by Robin Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #1690014
Alais is Lamia, a race of Fae who resemble snakes. A character study I did.
I slumped down into the water, just enough so it covered my nose. I exhaled the last lungful of air and pulled water into my mouth. Bubbles brushed my cheeks. My body rebelled at the lack of oxygen, my ribcage expanding as it tried to force air into my lungs, hunching my back over and forcing the rest of my face into the water. I pursed my lips, fighting past the pain in my head as my brain became starved of oxygen. Spots danced across my closed eyelids. The cold water stung my cheeks. My loose hair tickled my lips. My muscles relaxed, surrendering to the cold rushing through my skin. The little finger on my right hand twitched once, and I felt my body slip away. I opened my eyes and watched water droplets from the dripping shower make ripples on the surface of the water. It was weird watching them from underneath, watching the rings start so strong, then fade and die.

As my body died, my mind faded like the ripples.

With the last bit of my mental strength, I thought of her.

And the pain started. It ripped down from my head, tearing at the flesh on my arms and stomach with thousands of saw blades. I forced my eyes open, letting the cold water soothe the stinging across my irises. The muscles in my limbs found new strength and started spasming uncontrollably. The pain didn't stop. It continued stabbing at my skin, leeching what little energy I had left from all parts of my being. It would drive me insane if I wasn't careful.

I chased the pain around in my head like a hare chasing a lynx. I pushed the pain out of my mind, letting it go completely numb. From the empty control centre, I directed the hurt out of my head and into my body. My arms knocked noisily against the sides of the bathtub as they shook. This was the part of the pain I wished I wasn't mostly absent for. I wished I could see what my body was doing; watch the changes that took place. I suppose my state of semi-consciousness is self-defence; if I saw the process of change, I would either go crazy or lose the will to live. Or my mind couldn't cope and wouldn't go back.

My body shook for another hour. I was absent for it, as usual. When I returned, the change had finished.

I pulled myself up into a sitting position, watching as my muscles contracted and relaxed under my translucent skin. My arms were longer and thinner than before, in proportion with my elongated body. The oversized white t-shirt I had been wearing clung to my skin like a swarm of leeches, all wrinkly and uncomfortable. I left it on, though, just in case. I hoisted myself out of the tub and dropped heavily to the floor. I rolled onto my stomach and stood up.

Or whatever my equivalent of standing up is. Raising the front third of my body is probably a better way of describing it.

I am Alais of the Lamia.

I turned to face the mirror. My skin was thinned to the point of translucency; my blue veins twisted like lace across my arms and chest, just visible under the t-shirt. My hair had bleached, sticking to my skull and snaking across my face. Two pointed fangs protruded from my upper jaw, the most noticeable of the four rows of teeth I'd grown. My upper body had streamlined, my breasts shrinking and my ribcage elongating, tapering into a tiny waist and hips. Beneath my hips was the most obvious change - my tail. It wound around my bathroom floor, the tip still resting in the bathtub. The scales were the colour of sand; the kind of creamy white of silicon and ground quartz you get on really beautiful beaches.

I looked away and left the bathroom, slithering down the stairs of my house quickly. I'd covered all of the windows and locked all the doors. It was the middle of the night, but I'd rather be safe than laid out dead on a dissection table in some secret government laboratory. The carpet brushed past my scales, making a quiet shuffling noise as I propelled myself into the kitchen.

My tail made no noise against the linoleum. I slid silently across to the refrigerator, feeling almost guilty about my next actions. But I knew I had to do it. My body ached from the change, a little pulsing ache that swept through my body at the same speed as my accelerated heart rate. I extended my pale arm and tugged at the door. I wouldn't make it through the dawn if I didn't do it. I lowered my body to scan through the contents of the refrigerator. Knowing it was stopping me from dying didn't make it any better. My still-very-human mind rebelled, but my body knew better. My long fingers closed around the sports bottle. Perfectly innocuous among the cheese and bread and orange juice. As long as I didn't think too hard about the contents, I was okay. It's very easy to pretend that it's just another drink when it's next to a packet of scotch pancakes.

I pulled off the top and drank.

Sweet liquid rushed over my tongue, spilling back over my taste buds and down my throat. I swallowed, sending the burning sensation down through my body. I could feel the fire burning down through my chest and into my tail, right to its very tip. It was like sunbathing on a rock, heating my body, instantly giving it the warmth and energy it needed to work. Enough to get it through the dawn. The intense knowledge that I was going to live made the liquid all the sweeter, made me crave a little more, made me want to get it straight from the source, willing to kill for it...

No. I couldn't fall into that trap. I reminded myself of what it was: human blood. The blood of some innocent human that I stole. That fact alone shocked me back to humanity, and the knowledge that I'd have to kill again to get it again.

That I'd have to kill again tonight.

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