The Asp
short horror story
Frankie sat in a corner of his cage in the uptown apartment and saw his dinner approach, head stuck up from his coiled body in anticipation. The two-legged creature gripping the white mouse was still new to Frankie, but it had been pleasant enough so far. It smelled female, this one, and she delivered a variety of fresh writhing meals to Frankie many times a day since she had carried him home from the pet store before the air got crisp and she started wearing layers and stomping her feet on the floor for no reason like a gorilla. This was the cost of doing business for Frankie, though, as the meals kept coming and the thing’s soft appendage kept stroking Frankie’s body and her tender voice cooed to him before replacing the cover on his little home.
She delivered the mouse and patted Frankie’s head like normal and turned her own when a wretched piercing wail emerged from the box she kept nearby. Another appendage of sorts, but hardly as soft as the one that stroked his leathery skin. Frankie watched with the last of his dinner’s tail wriggling down his throat as the two-legged beast picked up the device and cried into it and worked herself into a frenzy. As quickly as it had begun, the yelling ceased and the female thing put its limbs over its eyes and carried on a horrible tone that Frankie didn’t know.
The female lifted the box again and poked at it with its natural appendage, and sometime later another female, another familiar scent to Frankie, arrived and the two bipedal creatures embraced each other, and more of that horrible song emerged from their forms. Having found himself sated and his vague curiosity run dry, Frankie lay his head on his curled body and slept.
From a National Public Radio interview with Brett Ressen, conservationist:
Host: So you mentioned earlier that the black market for exotic species hinders conservation efforts as well as public awareness about these creatures. Can you tell us more about that?
Brett Ressen: Sure. So, this kind of thing has been around forever, right? Think of Joe Exotic and his tigers as maybe the biggest recent example, or, you know, every few years you hear about someone killed by their pet crocodile. People with a lot of money get bored with cats and dogs and they want to branch out. The tiger park itself wasn’t illegal, sure, same with zoos, but it speaks to our fascination with exotic animals, especially dangerous ones.
Host: Right.
BR: Now, imagine you want that same excitement but not a literal tiger running around the house, what do you do? You go small. Scorpions, spiders, certain poisonous insect species like giant centipedes, certain sea creatures, and of course, snakes. Now I don’t want to discount constrictors because tragedies happen, even with smaller sizes, but the real allure is with poisonous species.
Host: So people are bringing poisonous snakes into their homes as pets?
BR: Well, yes and no. Some do, yes, but they’re experts. For casual pet owners who don’t want that risk, there are a few different ways to de-venomize snakes, some of which are controversial. Just to save time—
Host: We’re almost out of time, yeah.
BR: Yeah, so what’s happening is that these de-venomized snakes are getting into a lot of pet stores. The problem is that some of these procedures claim to be permanent but they really aren’t. Sometimes, sure. But pet stores are making claims that just aren’t backed up by veterinary science, because they’re getting info from black-market dealers who of course can’t be sued if something goes wrong.
Frankie watched from his cage as the two-legged female beast put small things into cartons over and over for a whole day. Her square-shaped appendage made a hideous cry again but the creature ended it quickly. A moment later, a knock came at the door and the beast unfastened the apparatus and opened the door for another bipedal thing. This one had a musky male scent and appeared far older. They embraced, more quickly than the two before, and the new one, which Frankie had never seen, turned his face to Frankie’s cage.
The two things standing on legs traded noises that came out of their mouths, then the older male approached Frankie’s cage and reached out its appendage, the soft one attached to its frame. The female one came to Frankie’s cage and removed the cover, allowing the male form to approach and peer over the top at Frankie. Frankie turned his head up and raised it slightly as if to receive a meal. The male thing reached out its digits, spurred on by the female who bore a pleasant shape on her mouth, but then pulled back before it reached Frankie’s head. The male then stepped back, raised its limbs in surrender, and matched the same pleasant look that the female bore. Frankie watched them in yet more confusion until the female shape presented a slippery mewling morsel for Frankie, who slurped it down.
Frankie spent the rest of the day in and out of sleep. By chance and in brief glances, he saw the footed beasts remove the loaded cartons and other things from the apartment where he shared the home with the female creature. He woke in darkness hours later to a terrible thrashing at the door and a deep angry bellow from another voice, another male voice but not the one he’d heard earlier in the day.
The female ran from another room and threw herself against the door. A great shout escaped her lips, one louder and more desperate than Frankie knew. The male outside likewise raised his voice, a horrible angry cry, and in a flash the door crashed open and Frankie stared rapt at the exchange. The male thing pushed aside the female creature, who stumbled over, then crawled into another room, a high wretched wail coming from her face. In the struggle, Frankie’s cage fell off the shelf on which it stood and landed on its side, and the top came off.
From The Atlantic, interview with Dr. Ella Krey, DVM:
Atlantic: But if the de-venomization procedures work, then what’s the concern?
EK: Well, there are ethical concerns, of course, which are similar to the longstanding debate about whether cats should be declawed, for instance. Then there is the simple reality that the procedures don’t always work. Snakes not only regrow their teeth, but they can and do regrow their venom glands. This in turn has led some people—including some veterinarians who have, in my opinion, abandoned their ethical obligations—to experiment with genetic engineering; that is, trying to create non-venomous species that still look like and act like a Black Mamba or a King Cobra.
Atlantic: I understand the ethical concerns, sure, but are their risks to humans here?
EK: Aside from the fact that these procedures don’t always work? Well, we’ve seen a few cases, perhaps most tragic of all, where the opposite happens. Someone buys a snake that is supposed to be non-venomous, by which I mean the species itself is not naturally poisonous, but through engineering and greed these now-venomous snakes are not only bred but then sold to unsuspecting shops, who then sell them to unsuspecting pet owners. Treatment in such cases is very difficult, because if you get bit and rushed to a hospital, they have to scramble to figure out what kind of antivenom to give you. They’re literally clueless because these animals aren’t supposed to exist.
Frankie poked his head through the top of his cage and waggled his tongue to smell his surroundings. The screams from the other room turned to moans as the male and female things writhed on the floor elsewhere in the apartment, their clumsy bodies knocking things over. Frankie slithered out of his cage and felt the soft carpet along the length of his body. With no meal within sight or smell, Frankie moved toward the sounds because he was now quite curious and rather hungry.
He came upon the male figure astride the female one, his limbs holding her down, her form struggling in vain against his, her sounds and movements dimming. Neither of them saw Frankie as he stopped and raised his head in the doorway. Neither saw him sway his body back and forth as he went to the male and found a perfect entry at the male’s lower appendage, then quickly scurried up inside the male thing’s pants.
The male cried out and flung itself off Frankie’s female food-giver. A high whine escaped its lungs as it slapped its hands to stop Frankie, then another horrid cry when Frankie bit into the male beast’s soft and fleshy thigh meat. It stood up on its legs and Frankie let himself fall out from the male’s clothing. The male thing stomped its feet around Frankie but the asp quickly moved to somewhere underneath where it could not be stomped.
Frankie watched from safety as the male thing crawled around on all fours looking for Frankie. Frankie watched the female form cough and turn over, then stand up. Frankie, seeing only her legs, heard a war cry and a shatter as the female creature stood over the male creature, who then fell to the floor and stopped moving. The female thing slumped back down and rested her back against a wall. The male form lay still.
Frankie came out from under the bed and looked at his female companion. Her eyes grew wide when she saw Frankie emerge, pressed her back harder against the wall. The male thing began to tremble. The female thing stood up and spoke something, moving her eyes between Frankie and the male attacker on the floor. The male coughed and gargled and red foam oozed out its mouth. It shuddered violently and Frankie heard cracks from inside the male form. The female put her hands to her mouth and took a step back toward the door. Then, the male released its remaining air and lay still again.
The female and Frankie stared at each other for a long time. Frankie had no idea how long. She approached Frankie and cooed to him as she had done before and rubbed his head. Frankie closed his eyes, and kept them closed as the female lifted him from the floor and brought him back to his cage. He kept them closed and only opened them again when he was back on the shelf with the top of his home back on.
Frankie was now very hungry, and just as the feeling in his belly hit him that a little mewling morsel might be in order, the female form approached his cage holding something in her hand. It didn’t move as she set it on the floor of his cage, but it did smell fresh and lovely all the same. Frankie scarfed it down and felt it flitter down his throat as the female looked at him with that pleasant shape on her mouth again.
From an article in the St. Paul Pioneer Press:
His family has increased the reward for any knowledge of his whereabouts. After six weeks, however, investigators are skeptical. An internal source, asking not to be named, says that authorities believe he disappeared on his own and does not want to be found, despite his family’s insistence that he was taken. Still others, including former partners, citing a history of domestic abuse allegations and an assault conviction, hope he never comes back.