Chapter 3
Violet. Violet of the most deep, vibrant variety. So rich was the hue that it seemed to border on the very fringes of the visible spectrum of human perception. They seemed to have a shifting, ethereal quality about them, not unlike the hues found in the petals of a rose. The color was broken only by a vertical iris that cut through the circles like a void. Even at this distance he could appreciate the otherworldly beauty in those eyes; able to truly gaze upon them for the first time.
He briefly recalled the last time he had beheld the sight, many years ago. Returning to his home after a day tending his fields, he'd had an encounter. The hair-tingling feeling of being watched egged at his mind, and he was swift enough in his scanning. The setting sun must have been just right, as he spotted the slitted, violet orbs peering back from the lower branches of a tree. They shifted and turned away, vanishing into the darkness of the forest canopy before he could analyze them. The brevity of the sight made him wonder if he had even truly seen anything. He continued scanning the same spot, hoping that it would believe he had not spotted it. When the sun finally receded beyond the horizon he dismissed the encounter with the tell-tale "Must have been the wind," further playing into the lie that he was none the wiser.
In retrospect he could only assume his ruse had worked, for why else would it have not killed him? Another spat in his little game of cat and mouse with these encounters. But now? It was in the open, or close to it. The sun was still high enough to cast ample light, giving it form in spite of the shadow it lurked in. It kept its gaze fixed on him, not wavering those eyes even for a moment. He knew himself well enough to know he might get lost in his appreciation, and that it was socially awkward to stare, but he couldn't care less. Perhaps this was some form of alien hypnosis?
Movement snapped him from his enamored stupor as the figured shifted forwards. The figure moved smoothly, stepping out from the shadow and into the afternoon light. It appeared to be crouching, keeping its lower body shrouded in the shrubberies. Even so, and as it undoubtedly intended, the upper torso was now visible to him for the first time.
As far as he was currently able to see, it appeared to be clothed in a jet-black, single-piece bodysuit of some fashion. Its material seemed to consist a woven cloth of some kind, so as to not be reflective. The bodysuit even ran all the way up the figure's inhumanly long neck, masking the head in what Edmund internally described as a tube-sock balaclava. He met its radiant eyes again briefly, having to force himself to break the gaze in order to assess its other features.
The mouth-hole was visibly sewn into the mask, though there was no pink flesh visible therein like you would expect with a human. Regardless, it was hard to get a read on the shape of the head. He would have continued analyzing its face if not for a shift its arms. It clicked with him that its hands had been held close together in front of its chest, and that it appeared to be holding something in each. He squinted, trying to figure out why it was holding a stick in each of its four-fingered hands. No, perhaps two halves of a broken stick? But that implied...
The analytical squint shifted to a mildly surprised deadpan as he shifted his gaze to look it in the eye again. The thing easily picked up on his realization, dropping the snapped twig and letting its thin arms hang by its side. It held its gaze, keeping its eyes locked with his. Edmund squinted, turning his head to the side ever so slightly as he scrutinized the thing. Where was it going with this? What was its intent? Why now? For the life of him he couldn't tell by looking at it. It was perfectly rigid, almost like some form of statue, crouched in the bushes.
'Come on, don't do it,' His logical self chided.
'This is exactly the time for it!' he retorted impulsively, 'I mean come on, it's clearly gauging our reaction. Ergo, it's only fair that we gage its reaction in return! You should be able to appreciate that much at least.'
'You're... not wrong. But I blame you when this gets us killed.'
He maintained his side-eye stare as he set down the wagon handle he'd been holding. His right hand drifted to the pistol's holster as subtly as he could manage, popping it open and tentatively drawing it. The figure remained stock still as he did this, not even sparing a glance at the weapon. It's gaze was immutably affixed upon him. He raised a brow, visually indicating his curiosity for a moment before he leapt into action.
And by 'leap into action', I mean he lurched himself into a legs-spread, ready for action pose. He held the position for a split second, his pistol gripped openly, gauging its reaction. There was none, at least not beyond keeping its eyes locked with his as he moved. Not getting anything yet, he leaned swiftly back and forth, as if he were about to duck for cover or try to juke a nonexistent attack. Still nothing. He held still for a second more, patiently waiting to see if it would do something, anything.
He extended his hands down to either side of his waist in a low-handed shrug, loosening his grip on the gun as he did so. "Nothing?" he remarked, vocally denoting his curiosity. "No...? Alright, *sniff, let's see what you got." He righted himself, taking a more relaxed posture as he holstered the pistol.
Edmund's back stiffened as its figure rose from the brushes, revealing itself more fully in the sunlight. It straightened its form and raised its head to meet him at eye level. Of course, he had no way to know if this was its natural height or if it was intentionally matching him. Eye contact was broken as he gave it a visual onceover instead of focusing in on the particulars. Starting at the bottom, and most notably, there were no legs.
The long, cylindrical body was that of a giant serpent, the rest of its form still lost in the bushes. At a glance, he figured it was almost as thick as his own rather substantial chest. What he would tentatively call its underbelly was comprised of rows upon rows of wide, obtusely angled scales who's color could be described as a soft white. It reminded him of plaster whitewall, actually. Peeking around its sides was a sheet of smaller overlapping scales that were black as tar. He could see no pattern from here, so assumed a solid black sheet of scales for the time being.
Moving upwards, he noted how the serpentine figure seemingly transitioned into a more anthropomorphic physique. It had hips, of all things. They weren't terribly pronounced, but were still apparent. Its waist was slightly more narrow than the body beneath the hips, but still healthily wide. At least, as best as he could assume. The waist expanded upward into a chest almost as wide as its hips were, creating an oddly ideal hourglass figure.
It possessed a broad pair of shoulders; thick bundles of muscle, visible beneath the bodysuit, running from the base of its neck all the way down to its long, pointed fingers. Its pectorals were rounded and faintly distinguishable, which only contributed to its unusually feminine physique. Its femininity was admittedly rather subtle, but he was starting to find it odd just how womanly its form seemed to be. Goodness knows he'd seen more cartoonishly proportioned figures back when the internet was around, but this being was still... bizarrely humanistic.
As for the bodysuit; though technically not running the full length of the body, he was content to call it as such. After all, it did cover the body's portions that be believed warranted covering. From the tip of its head, down past its hips. It was even long sleeved, ending in what could be described as fingerless gloves. Looking at it now he thought it looked like some kind of skin-tight turtleneck sweater, if the turtleneck was rolled up the neck into a balaclava.
At certain locations he thought he could make out shapes beneath, or perhaps within, the bodysuit that seemed to contour with the being's figure. Perhaps the physiological curvature of muscles, or some kind of armored plating? That would make sense, weaving Kevlar or some alien equivalent into a stealth suit. Also, there were noticeable bulges and differences in the suit's texture around the wrists. Weapons, or some scifi-esq wrist computers perhaps? Overall, it was difficult for him to tell at a glance.
Wait, stealth suit? Yeah... that made sense. It would explain how easily it stayed hidden all these years. But that begs the question, why did ADVENT have stealth units way out in Tennessee's humble stretch of the Smoky Mountains? Surely not for him alone. He recalled Damien mentioning his people got the feeling they were being watched as well. Perhaps then it was some kind of scout? Had it always been this same scout, or did they cycle them through? No, no; the first one makes more sense. I mean, after enough time in the region it would acclimate; so why then bring in new ones that have to learn the region all over again. That wouldn't be very- wait, what's it doing with its head?
The train of thought was derailed as the being reached one of its hands up to its face. It? Or should he start saying she? Eh, why not. 'She' felt like an apt descriptor. He personified everything down to the rocks and trees, after all. So anyway; she displayed dexterous control over her long, slim neck as she lowered her head, impressively keeping her eyes facing forward for the duration. Eye contact was finally broken as she closed her eyes, gingerly pinching something in the middle of her brow.
The seam was integrated so intricately into the suit that he couldn't even see it as she ran a hidden zipper down the back of her neck. Whether the seam stopped at the base of her neck, or she chose to stop there, Edmund didn't know. Her hand moved back to her face as her head lowered, causing the covering to go slack. The seam parted, revealing a gleaming sheet of black scales that covered the top of her head and back of her neck. A few lines of white scales could be seen across the back of her neck, but the pattern seemed disjointed as the scales seemed to be folded over one another.
As she pulled off the portion covering her face, the rest of the cloth running down her neck loosened and hung freely. Edmund's brow tightened in confused caution as her neck seemed to widen suddenly. The flesh from her head to the base of the shoulders flexed and expanded along each side of her neck. As the scales unfolded into a serpentine hood, the pattern of white scales coalesced into a sideways 8, or the symbol of infinity. The pale scales seemed to be the only pattern in the sea of pitch-black that comprised the majority of her back. Again, as far as he could tell.
He hardly had time to ponder how the hood and pattern reminded him of that of a cobra before she rose her head. The pattern and sheet of black-as-night scales vanished as she rose to meet his gaze again. She released her grip on the face portion of the suit, allowing it to hang loosely from the base of her neck. His eyes widened as they tried to drink in every intricate facet of her face. It was surreal, to say the least.
It appeared the inside of her hood had a more unique pattern of scales, having different rows for the flares of the hood and her neck. The inner lining of her hood was a neutral grey, while the wide-V shaped scales of her neck were the same plaster-white as the rest of her underbelly. The plaster coloration continued up around her pointed chin and peculiarly shaped mouth. The middle seemed to be stuck in an exaggerated frown, but the seam appeared to angle upward and continue on to the edge of her face beneath the eyes.
He noted how her distinctive brow was more the shape of a V, a pair of nostrils visible above the mouth at the V's bottom. And speaking of her eyes, a new color drew his attention to the scales around them. The brow itself was the same jet-black as her back, fading into the grey of the hood and white of the neck around the nostrils, but the scales around the eyes were different.
The tear troughs beneath her eyes, because her eye sockets seemed oddly humanistic, were a soft yellow similar to that of a dandelion or a sunflower. This coloration continued from under her eyes all the way around the outermost edge of her hood. The color softened and faded back into the black of her main scales as it got closer to the base of her neck. It felt like the yellow highlights inescapably drew one's attention up to her eyes.
Edmund recalled similar patterns in terrestrial breeds of snake, letting himself marvel at the specimen before him. He'd always loved snakes, as he had other reptiles. Snakes and lizards were adorably cool dudes, frogs were silly goobers, gators and crocs were freaking awesome, and turtles/tortoises were chill. The way they functioned, thought, their mannerisms, it was all a point of fixation for him. Truthfully he'd never understood why most people didn't like the cold-blooded critters, snakes in particular. Sure, one could cite the biblical reference of The Serpent tempting Eve; but that was, like, one serpent. Besides, the nature of The Serpent could be interpreted in a multitude of ways.
But then, this line of thought drew his mind further into contemplation. Stopping and looking at this creature subjectively, one could draw a number of historical parallels. He could see how less biblically aligned individuals might cite this as evidential of alien interference at the earliest points of human history. He obviously didn't think as such, dismissing the notion as another historical precedent popped into his mind. This creature bore a striking resemblance to the Medusa of Greek legend, referring to them as Gorgons if he wasn't mistaken. There were differences, such as the lack of snake-hair, but he felt the comparison was still sound. If anything; the legend of Medusa had more likelihood of being alien interference involving this species, rather than Eve's Serpent.
And so spiraled Edmund's mind into branching trains of thought. All the while he continued silently observing the serpentine creature before him. The serpent, for its part, simply stood there, seemingly allowing him to do so. So lost in his silent observation that he actually jumped when the perma-frown parted, not unlike a pair of lips, as a long forked tongue stretched out and flicked the air. It was thick, more comparable to a rope than a tongue, and extended well over a foot before retracting. He sputtered in surprise, but it almost immediately shifted into a soft, wheezing laughter. A dumbfounded grin spread across his face both from the humor of his own reaction and from marveling at the being before him.
Time passed without meaning as the unnatural silence persisted, rarely broken by a breeze or an amused huff from Edmund. As his observation and internal thought process continued, he started reigning it back into the here and now. He concluded that this must be a Viper, a race most certainly alien in nature. Rumors before and during the war were sparse in his humble neck of the woods, but the post-war information boom on the Resistance Network had opened new avenues. That said, his mind was drawn back to the horrid videos he'd seen, with a number of them featuring some truly grizzly fates for the vipers therein.
His wide-eyed, goofy grinned face shifted to a darker, disgusted expression as his eyes lost their focus on the viper. He looked away, eyes wandering over nothing in particular and he held his mouth and jaw in his hand. No... No, he didnt want such sights to detract from this moment. The culmination of fifteen years of antics with this stalker, assuming it was indeed the same one, all leading to this reveal. He simply wouldn't have it.
He shook his head, as if he would be able to shake the memories from him mind. Beating back the thoughts into remission, he forced a more pleasant expression back onto his face. It wasn't as unapologetically sincere as his earlier dumbfounded gawking, but he hoped this viper would not mistake his momentary surliness as some kind of indictment against it. He stood there a moment more trying to gather his thoughts, though he was now finding it difficult to stare into its eyes.
"So, uh..." Edmund eventually managed to vocalize, "hello." He waved sheepishly with his right hand. It offered its traditional response of silence, continuing to stare.
A couple huffs of laughter escaped his nose, amused at his own goofed attempt if nothing else. The anxieties of socially engaging were creeping into his mind, plaguing him with second guesses and proposed approaches. This was a complete unknown, how was he supposed to engage? What should he say? How should he say it? What inflections should he use? He didn't have anything to talk about with regular people, much less an alien snake. And so on and so forth.
He shook his head again, more forcefully this time. Screw it, he'd default back to dropping any social pretenses and just be direct. Couldn't hurt more than fumbling his sentences and being an awkward buffoon. It's not like this would have long-lasting effects on their unique little dynamic, right?
"Right, so," He said, this time in a deeper, more blunt tone. "Starting with the basics. Do you understand me?" It continued to silently stare at him.
Edmund rolled his eyes and crooked the side of his mouth, amused with the situation. "Of course. Okay, so; nod if you can understand me," he continued, nodding to emphasize his point. It nodded its head a few times, punctuating the motion with another flick of its tongue.
"Alright, cool. So there's an understanding. Then again, of course you understand. What's the point of a scout that can't understand the quarry-" He cut himself off, turning his head to the side and closing his eyes. It would be unwise to let himself go off on rambling tangents right off the get-go.
"Right, right." His head turned back to face her. "So, a couple of preliminary questions if you'll allow me..." It nodded once. His lips pursed as he gave a single amused nod in reply. 'So communication is established,' he noted internally.
"Alright, so; assuming you are the 'thing' that's been stalking for the last several years, why reveal yourself? Why now?" His hands idly gestured as he spoke, coming to rest with the left crossed under the right as the right rose to rub his chin.
There was a moment of silence as he waited for its response. After a few seconds, it broke eye contact to look down to the ground. Edmund followed its gaze to the bushes it rose out from, trying to spot what it was peering at. As he watched, what he could only assume to be the tip of its tail slithered out from the base of the shrubs. It stopped when it was exposed by several inches. It was almost as thick as his wrist at the point where he visually lost track of it. The near-solid black pattern atop it with a milky-grey underbelly reminded him an awful lot of...
"Oh." He remembered. "Oh!" It clicked in his mind. "Ohhh..." He realized the implications. "Hey, you're not a rat snake at all. You're not a Mr. either, if I'm not mistaken," he concluded, taking the hand from his chin to gesture at her.
She made a single, sharp hiss as the edges of her mouth seemed to rise slightly. However, Edmund recognized the gesture. Monty, like his pet snakes prior, sometimes made curt little hisses like that. He knew they did it as a sort of little sneeze, for one reason or another. He always found it rather cute, to be honest. But here and now, coming from her; he chose to interpret it as a kind of amused huff. The idea caused his lips to curl into an amused grin.
"So, you took that little exchange as an invitation, I assume. Makes sense..." He lamented, trailing off in thought. As he did so, he only now began to realize how drastically the lighting had shifted. They must have been there for a couple of hours, judging by how far the sun seemed to be sinking. If he didn't start back home soon, it would likely slip into night while he was still en route. While he felt relieved that he didn't have to worry about his stalker anymore, not that he did to begin with, this viper was not the only critter in the woods...
"Well," he stated curtly, "Looks like it's getting late. I'm sure you're well aware of my methods by this point, so I hope you don't mind if I start back on the ol' dusty trail." His smile persisted as he clapped his hands together, turning back to the serpent for a response. It didn't offer one, opting to continue its silent staring. The two of them stayed there for a moment, eyes locked.
Edmund huffed in muted laughter, once more amused by the absurdity of the encounter. "Great talk!" He eventually stated with exaggerated gusto.
With a wink of his eye and a more audible chuckle, he turned to pick up the wagon handle and continue on his way. After a few steps he turned back to where the Viper stood, observing him intently. Awkward goodbyes were another of his more notable cruxes, so he opted to simply ignore the concept and carry on. Still, he did feel compelled to leave on a more positive note than a punch line.
"Thank you, by the way. You know, for not killing me at, well... I suppose at any point over the years."
Her tongue struck out again, flicking more slowly this time. Knowing the function of a snake's tongue, Edmund figured it could be comparable to taking a long drag from a cigarette. He briefly pondered how he smelled, or tasted, according to her senses. Then again it would be foolish to assume its senses functioned exactly the same as its terrestrial equivalents. Regardless, the lack of vocal response was expected, so he have her a thumbs up before turning back to his path.
The rest of the journey home proved to be uneventful. Shortly after departing from their little encounter, the sounds of the forest returned; implying she wasn't following him the rest of the way. His anxieties made him worry that he'd somehow scared her off, or that he failed whatever test that was supposed to be. Decades of struggling with himself in this regard had helped with his methods of countering such paranoia, thankfully; helping ease such thoughts back into remission.
He chose to instead direct his thoughts to more constructive lines of thought, such as what he had observed, or formulating logical question from said information. He tried to imagine what her length might be, seeing as she had not entirely revealed herself. It couldn't be too long, lest she would be nigh impossible to keep hidden. On the flip side, it couldn't be too short, otherwise she wouldn't logically have the support to keep herself upright like she had. But this line of thought directed his focus to another unknown; her internal biology.
How did she function, he wondered? Did her humanistic torso contain a set of similarly humanistic organs while her tail/body was all muscle? Or, did she possess internals more similar to the terrestrial snakes she resembled, with lengthy organs running down through her body? Was it some combination of the two? Speaking of organs, who's to say she didn't have organs that were by all accounts unheard of? She was, technically, an alien after all. ...She was an alien, right?
This tangential thought process continued, taking up the majority of his focus as he made his way through the woods. He barely registered it when he arrived home, the setting sun casting horizontal light that broke through the trees and lighting the back of his house. He idly went through the motions, parking and covering the wagon, offloading his backpack and weapons at the door, making sure the electronics were all safely offline, and so on. He eventually managed to shake himself back into the present, realizing it was pitch black outside and that he'd been sitting at the computer desk for who knows how long.
A familiar gurgling reminded him that the only thing he'd had to eat today was that unripe persimmons fruit in the morning. Man-alive, that felt like it was an eternity ago. Yet, it simultaneously felt like it just happened. Human's perception of time was fickle, he concluded as he leaned back in the chair. He wasn't terribly keen on cooking food when it was this dark, so he settled to go without until tomorrow. Then again, he was too awake and alert to go to sleep just yet...
A smile spread across his face as an idea came to mind. It took a moment of fumbling around in the darkness, but he eventually found the laptop's power button. The array of tiny indicator lights and the monitor cast a soft, electronic glow across the modest living room. He didn't log on quite yet, instead using the light to safely make his way to the bedroom. He illuminated the bedroom with the reading lamp, making his way to the uncovered terrarium where Monty was now visible.
"Hey hey buddy-boy, I'm back. I see you had a real party while I was gone," he remarked in a comedic tone while he lifted the lid off. Being slow and careful had always been the best approach to picking up snakes, even ones that are familiar. This time was no different, gingerly lifting the four-foot python from its enclosure. It wrapped itself around his arm and he cradled it.
"But you didn't burn the house down, so you get a bit of lovin'. Yes you do." He punctuated the cutesy words with a curt little kiss behind its head. "Such a good boy. Met one of your cousins today! Let's see what we can learn about her, hmm?"
Turning the lamp off to save electricity, he made his way back through the dark room to the living room. Monty's smooth scales glistened in the glow of the laptop as he sat back at the desk. He couldn't help but take a moment to simply sit there, lovingly stroking the serpent's body. After all, logging on could wait until after some petting.
The inquisitive thoughts began coming back as he appreciated the company of his long time friend. He wondered what this Viper's scales would feel like. Soft and smooth like some kind of living marble, such as Monty? Or would it be more coarse and rigid like a rattlesnake or the terrestrial vipers she was likely named from? Reflecting upon his earlier analysis, he theorized the prior to be more likely. He recalled how the black scales seemed to shimmer faintly, though they seemed to absorb light more than reflect it.
Then again, this information might be in information XCOM had made public. He put Monty's petting on hold while he one-handedly logged into the computer and navigated the folders to where he had deposited the XCOM files. Scrolling past tales of their endeavors, anti-ADVENT rhetoric, and profiles of other alien races, he eventually found the Viper's profile.
Time once more lost all meaning as be poured over the information, idly doting on and conversing with Monty as he did so. His focus was drawn to the autopsy reports, but they lacked more intricate biological details. They simply highlighted the species' unique features, like the length of their tongues or how far they could eject venom. Then again, he could understand their hesitation in publicly releasing the finer ins-and-outs of their biology. After all, there were probably black market organ harvesters out there somewhere...
But turning his attention back to the profile; there were also field accounts detailing their known capabilities. These mostly tied back into the basic autopsy reports, giving credence to abilities and features via first-hand encounters. There were even sub-profiles for different variants of the species. This in particular caught his eye, comparing and contrasting his personal encounters with each variant. Eventually he narrowed the possibilities down to one: a sub-breed XCOM classified as a "Sidewinder."
The visual description fit, as did its apparent role as a scouting asset. According to the report, Sidewinders were marginally smaller but more agile than their more combat-oriented variants. Looking at the measurements, it appeared the standard vipers had upper-bodies similar in scale to his own body. Edmund briefly pondered on how imposing people might find these Vipers to be if they were as large as him. That is, at least, when comparing their torso-size. The thought made him chuckle.
The scientist who had compiled the data, a man by the name of Tygen, speculated that ADVENT might have pressed these units into more combat-oriented roles as the Resistance War continued to escalate. However, he seemed unsure of their primary role outside of basic reconnaissance; citing a lack of sufficient data as the reason for his curt hypothesis. Edmund wondered if that was true, or if they were withholding information. For that matter, how much of this XCOM information could be taken at face value? It would behoove them to gussy up public information for their own benefit, after all...
Regardless, he sifted through as much information as he could over the course of several hours. Weariness finally took its toll at some unknown point in the night, prompting him to shut the system down and put Monty back in his enclosure. A deep sleep welcomed him as he fell into bed. The last thoughts drifting through his mind were on the files, and how he'd probably be going over them multiple times in the next couple of days. He wanted to learn as much about his 'friend' as it had likely learned about him...