Sunday, October 08, 2006
"Blood-curdling..." -- Part 10
It had been long predicted that eventually Haggis and her kind would turn upon and cannibalize themselves, and it had come to pass. All of the snakes had been used roughly until they died, or else were consumed by Haggis in fits of deep, black rage. 'Twas said for many years hence that St. Patrick was ever so much more humane in his methods of ridding a land of snakes.
In any event, Haggis was alone in the world, living a solitary life (such as it was) in the foul hovel. Chauve Ane Dedman was no more. Upon the occasion of his nuptials to yet another witch, Haggis decided she could no longer tolerate his bigamies and took it upon herself to be rid of the infidel once and for all.
She coiled herself around him one midnight hour, suffocating him with her cold skin and rough scales, squeezing the life from him even as she bit him repeatedly. He was dead before the third or fourth dose of venom entered his bloodstream, but Haggis was by then in a red fog of fury and knew no surcease. She continued to squeeze and constrict his body into a mushy pulp, and then she swallowed him whole and enjoyed a pleasing, resonating belch.