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Crimson Cobra · (03-06-2013)

Much before the serpent was to face the Spider in a contest of titans it was being fed simple meals.

Crickets and bugs only made the snake’s stomach growl with more hunger.

The mice were what the snake started to understand as a real meal.

Survival was simple, eat, drink, and sleep.

But then that top cage door began to open.

Down dropped a new creature every once in a while.

A creature with the skills to fight back would be ready.

On the opposite side of the cage the undisputed king cobra.

A scratch here, bite mark there, nothing truly affected the cobra’s intense drive to kill.

A predator always ready to kill the prey, but what happens when it is predator vs. predator?

A death match of the ages would exist in these times.

The cage door opens yet again allowing now a pair of small, already hurt rabbits to hop in.

The pair would split up immediately sensing danger.

Left, Right, Up, Down the King Cobra knew this cage with its eyes shut, to have them open only another advantage.

The bunnies were leaving behind a trail of blood.

Easy bait to the snake, a fast creature turned slow.

The meat of a rabbit was that of perfection to a Cobra so the hunt began.

The cage had seem to grow in the past weeks, new tunnels, new areas but still all to familiar to the cobra.

The cobra slides along and waits, hearing movement it buries itself in the pebbles of sand hiding, waiting.

The clueless rabbit hobbles on by only to be taken out by the leaping cobra in seconds.

The tail wrapping the rabbit, the teeth only sunk in long enough to poison, but will probably kill the animal in seconds.

The Cobra knows this rabbit is out and there is still one more drenching the cage, his cage, in blood.

The second hunt began.

A new path of blood has been sensed by the long red snake and it takes a new trail.

This rabbit its already in agony laying on its side the snake slithers by and back to its first kill.

This fight was over before it had started.

The cobra has reigned victorious

But time is no long in reverse as the moment comes to and the tarantula that had latched itself onto the wall begins to move away from the cobra…

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The tour of the filth ridden downtown area had begun the first dirty back ally down and only a couple thousand to go. There were cardboard boxes in shapes of homes for the dirty hobos to return to after a day of begging was over for them. Pennies and dimes were always lying around as if the poor didn’t notice them. “Will work for food” A sign that has been spotted lying in one of the cardboard houses. A depressing area to be in but also very inspirational, never wanting to have to live such a life. The trash bins overflowing and spilling out onto the concrete of the urban city’s floor. The trash being objects as well as the bums spread throughout the town. A knife fight was what looked like it was down the next ally way and instead we cut right. There were more trashcans too full for anything else and more people lying around too poor for a meaningful life. A needle was sticking out of one of the unconscious men’s arm. Heroin knowing this from past references a mother’s death really tears a family apart.

Mom used to love “exploring” with me. She would make sure to get off work in time to keep me company. Her long dark brown hair flowing in the wind, her loving blue eyes always focused on me. "Damn, I miss her."

The men is laying on his stomach face down not sure if he is unconscious or just dead, well move on. That is how bad the downtown drug problem has gotten, not even hidden by an ally way that man was out in front of one of an abandon building. The windows darkened with age, the walls cracking from the inside out. A building ready to fall that is only taking up space in the once flourishing downtown area. Inside meth addicts franticly creating potions to cure there latest craves. Crack addicts hiding away from the brightness of the sun. Deadbeats sitting around smoking pot all day long.

Don’t get me wrong there’s nothing wrong with the last one but if you can’t function while high then you shouldn’t be getting high. This smell must have done something because now I was joining the man with the needle, all I remember was feeling like I got hit with brass knuckles in my face before waking up on the ground.

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“Property of the Colorado Zoo”

An image stuck in Mr. Cobb’s head, only one image being more terrifying.

“Exhibit: King Cobra”

What was he to do? He was a simple car salesman; he had never gone snake hunting in his life. It was something he would vow to leave to Steve Irwin and the rest of the crazies on planet earth. There was no way that he was going to be able to save his beloved wife and that is what terrified him the most. Hating himself for calling the animal control and pleading for help, for information on how to catch a snake yet only being told that a car was being sent with a professional to help.

The fire crackling in the mansion of the Cobb’s and a tear runs down Mr. Cobb’s cheek finding its way to his suit jacket. He found that it was impossible to live an everyday life without an amazing woman such as his wife. But he also found something that would temporarily numb the pain. The man was the biggest anti-drug kind of guy anyone in a 10 block radius had ever seen. Mr. Cobb was always attempting to get rid of drugs throughout the neighborhood had been very unsuccessful. Finally he has fallen to his own fight. Never even as much as smoking a cigarette Mr. Cobb went straight to marijuana. A pre-rolled blunt was sold to him on the street not knowing anything about it he had paid the man $50 for the blunt that had maybe 2 and a half grams jammed into it.

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There it was again that smell that could only be described as “dank-ness”. As if a skunk had run up sprayed something, someone, anything, it had reeked of weed. Back to reality now, why did I feel the cold hard punch of a man baring brass knuckles? Face first into a steel pole, looking up there was a hand railing dripping blood. It was dripping onto my now blood soaked t-shirt. A group of bums were fighting over something small and square looking, but I couldn’t make the object out. When I finally came fully to consciousness I realized my back pocket had felt much smaller, something was missing.

These mother fuckers! They had my wallet, quickly to my feet I got up and right back down spearing the two fighting over the wallet. Both of their heads slamming against the ground rendering them unconscious, the wallet went flying out of their hands. The other bums looked at me and began weighing their choices, attempts stealing the wallet full of money and possibly get beaten up, or go hungry one more night? The choice was simple for all of them, a mass beating was upon me from the bum army. Luckily none of these people had any martial arts training and it was a simple way of getting my wallet back.

"I need to get the fuck out of these allies, that black one got me good in the mouth" thinking to myself. Getting onto main streets my blood soaked shirt startled many people so I simply took it off and tried to find the way back to my car

The sun was setting causing a beautiful sky color it was amazing to look down upon the town from the top of this building, giving up the search for my car. High places seem to make me feel happier, the higher my elevation the better my feeling in life. Much towards the reason of living in Colorado the highest elevated state. Not only is it pleasing to me but it is awarding to my health, training in the altitude increases my stamina and endurance.

"If Agony would like to feel real fear I could simply bring him here, take him up to the mountains and watch as the altitude sickness takes over his body. After he is stricken by the flu like sickness I would kick him out of the cabin and watch as he slowly dies in the wilderness of Colorado freezing, puking, dying.

It is the savage animals such as Martin O’Connor and I who would flourish in the cold winter snow. Hunting down our prey we would have food every night without a problem, me being used to the altitude would be even more energetic and able to survive. I do not understand why Agony feels as if I fear him, I have been to hell and back multiple times so there is no reason to fear a man wearing one of those sexual zipper masks as his wrestling attire. You can kill a small cobra so I must fear you? You can pour its blood on yourself so I must fear you? Wait until you get the human form, the true crimson will be pouring out of your body when the Cobra attacks, when you get ripped open by the monster that lives inside.

You are like a school shooter Agony, not caring if people like you or hate you but only wishing for acknowledgment. Why would someone shoot up a school full of children? To be famous for that short time that they have left at life. Why are you trying to be one of these people is my only question for you. But I also have a question for your tag team partner. Where has the monolith been? Not thinking he was in Canada but really being in Texas. Not even as much as showing up to say hello and our match is in two days.

This could mean many different things, Agony you should really get on finding your partner because I don’t want it to just be me and Martin destroying your sexual fantasies of being known, because after I am through with you Martin helping or not there won’t be a god damn person who knows the name Agony…"

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