At first she had been innocent. Eyes wide open. A mind that was pure and blissfully unaware of the ways of the world. Those times were too early for memories. Images of flower fields, a woman dancing and singing with an out of tune piano. Then a slippery dark road, and a truck that lost control. It was sunny the day they were buried, she remembered that much. It all felt wrong.

She had stared at the snake in the glass aquarium as she sat in the dark office. An adder that could kill her with one bite, or so he had told her right after he said he would be her new guardian. Her uncle that had a smile that made her squirm in her seat, and miss her parents even more.

The house was large and gloomy and full of many doors that she wasn't allowed to open. She did her best to avoid seeing her Uncle at all, to remain small and unnoticeable. But he discovered that she could sing, and he often asked her to sing for him. She would be forced to stand as he gazed at her. He would applaud her performance, say that her beauty had addled his mind, and smile again. All she wanted to do was run away as she was consumed. And Irene Langtry disappeared.

Her Uncle invited another man to hear her sing. The man opened the door for her into a world she would have never dreamed of. Audiences loved to hear her, the young girl with the voice of an angel. Her talent became her one escape, and her one joy. But it came at a price. The more successful her singing became, the more time her Uncle spent with her.

Her Uncle was always there, during her practice. Behind the stage during performance. He would ask to see her late at night, and there was nothing she could do but obey. He began appearing in her dreams, hissing like his adder.

This is your fault.

She could almost feel his long fingers on her shoulders, and his breath in her ear.

Try and tell someone. No one will believe you. It's your word, against mine. Besides, you brought this on yourself.

It was terrible. The dreams chilled her so much she couldn't sleep. Every time she drifted off, he would be there hissing. She knew that she had to leave. She would find somewhere to go. Someone would take pity, she hoped.

But the wet streets of London were unforgiving, and the only place she found was a bench in a park. She sat there, fingers shaking from the cold. Yet despite it, she fell asleep and the hissing began again.

No one will help you. No one would want to even look at someone like you. You should just go back, I'm the only one that would take you.

She fought to resist but he found her on the bench, and carried her back to their home. She waited for the punishment, but he never said a word. He didn't speak to her for an entire week. Not till a Thursday evening when he called her into the parlor. A man she had never seen before was there, handing her Uncle an envelope that he quickly tucked away. He told her that she would be the man's for the night as he left the room.

She discovered that after her attempted escape the hissing dreams ended. Her uncle was still ever present, but she was allowed sleep again, even if she was no better off than before. It became almost routine for Irene, every week she was sold to a new buyer. Any manner of man could come and, for a price, claim a night with the girl with the angel voice.

No one found out. Ever. Her uncle was a master at hiding his steps, like his adder hiding in the leaves as it waited for its prey to skitter by. The thought of simply crying out for help in the middle of a performance crossed her mind, but he made it seem like no one would believe her. The punishment for such an action would have been more than she could bear.

The years passed, and she grew older. Her career continued strongly, singing in front of ever-growing audiences. But she was still under her Uncle's control, being sold to anyone who desired. The dreams started again.

You need me.

Without me, you are alone.

You're just a worthless scrap of breath and skin, good for only one thing.

No one else would ever take care of you, if they knew what you had done.

Irene lay completely still in the bed, her eyes were shut but she did not sleep. She felt thin, as if her spirit was stretched to its limits. The heavy snores of her most recent client sounded in her ears. The door to the room slowly opened and her uncle stepped in silently. She knew it was her signal that she could get up and go.

Glad to see that you can keep someone happy with your disgusting body.

The day passed quickly in feverish preparations for a concert she had that evening. The adder had escaped her dreams and seemed to slither about her ankles as she walked about. Vocal warm ups, hair and make-up, and then sitting and waiting for the concert to begin. Her uncle sat on the couch in her dressing room, flipping through a schedule book, calmly. "You'll have another client tonight." He informed her.

What are you going to do about it?

Irene's hands were shaking, and she could almost feel the adder wrapping itself about her calves. But she heard herself say,

"No."

He looked up, and Irene could feel her blood run cold.

"Excuse me?"

Go on and tell someone. No one will believe someone like you.

"I said, no." she stood up, and gritted her teeth in an attempt to keep her from taking it all back.

"You'll do as I say. You'll sing, and then you will go please your client. In whatever manner he desires."

The adder made its way up her torso, squeezing as it went.

You disgusting little whore.

Where else would you go?

Without even fully thinking about it, she found herself, reaching for the door handle. Her spirit may have been thin, but it wasn't broken.

YOU CAN'T RESIST ME.

He jumped up, and gripped her hand.

"You will do as I say!" he shouted, wrenching her wrist around.

YOU'RE NOTHING WITHOUT ME.

The adder made it's way to her neck and though she could hardly breathe, she shouted,

"NO!" She shoved him away, and he slipped, cracking his skull against the glass coffee table. The adder evaporated as the life bled out of him, and Irene watched.

"And she was just standing there as he died?"

"Yeah."

"Blimey. You ever hear her sing?"

"Took the wife a couple years ago. Who would have thought she'd have it in her to kill him?"

"Anderson said she's claiming that he was whoring her out to the highest bidder."

"Likely story."

"There'd be more evidence if that was really true."

"Hey…isn't she supposed to be in holding?"

"I thought she was in interrogation."

"She's not anymore."

"Anderson! You seen the Langtry girl?"

"I thought you had her."

"Shit!"

Irene ran out the back alley and down several dark wet streets, feeling like her heart was about to jump out of her chest. The adder may have disappeared but she could hear the continual hissing in her ear, one word constantly repeated. She stopped for a breath for a moment, but the sound of sirens sent her on her way.

She knew she couldn't go home, and she knew nowhere else to go. She could almost hear her uncle claiming that she is what she deserved for misbehaving. Maybe she should just go back, prison might be better than what awaited her there. The sight of him lying in his own pool of blood flashed before her eyes, and it steeled her resolve. No, she decided. She wasn't going back, not ever.

As she continued to walk, she mentally surveyed her situation. She had been literally screwed over by her uncle, that much was obvious. She had misbehaved, and if she didn't want to go to prison, she needed protection. And she realized with rather grim satisfaction, he had given her the exact skill set to get what she needed.

But the adder remained. It was a constant reminder of where she had come from, always in her ear. Always hissing.

Filthy.