Gorgon's Purgatory

A tingling sensation fills my head. A deep pressure builds into agonizing pain as the serpents swallow their midnight meal. They move their jaws in synchronized contractions, forcing the bodies of mice down their gullets. The mice wiggle within the snakes for what feels like an eternity, brushing the scaly, cold skin in a ballet of torture.

The scent of copper and decaying flesh from the head’s recent feeding fills my nostrils. Fluid drips from their mouths onto my shoulders. The liquid is viscous, dripping onto the cave floor in a sticky, string-like mucus.

My tail is cold and smeared with filth. I rest it against the damp surface of the cave floor. My joints are replaced with muscular ligaments too large and cumbersome to rest on any other surface.

In the humid silence of this cavern, these creatures are my only companions. Their scaled tails are tightened around the skin of my skull. Every movement knots them into bundles of audible hisses. They don’t sleep, so neither do I.

The darkness is their haven. I haven't seen the sun for many moons. My eyes adjusted to the constant night, and I knew the sun would scorch my pupils and blind me. I would welcome it, if only to have a moment of warmth on my frigid bones.

My serpents pull at my scalp, longing to slither freely on the cave floor. They are as trapped with me as I am with them. They produce rhythmic, pulsing movements against my cranium.

Small, thin insects dance across my skin. Each sharp, barbed leg creates a thin indentation in my keratin skin. Cricket limbs, so thin and precise, stab at the gaps between my scales, trying to reach my soft parts. My scales hold strong, but someday I imagine little insect-sized holes pitted along my backside. Inviting every creature to nest inside me. Larva wriggling about, consuming me.

My serpents are not the only creatures that hunger for living things. I crave the plump berries and apples I used to indulge in so many millennia ago. I hunt the caverns of my prison for my next meal. This night was like any other, except a larger prey entered my realm.

Brown fur covered its body. Never-ending claws protruded from its paws. Teeth jagged and blood-covered as it had just finished feasting. My old age leaves me sluggish, not a formidable foe for such a beast.

My stealth failed as it noticed me. It slashed and clawed at my body, hitting my scalp with great force. I retreated to the smallest corner of the cave, wedging myself between two rocks. It swung at me, but I was out of reach. It may have been hours or days that had passed before it gave up and continued searching for another meal.

To my astonishment, one of my snakes did not survive. I hold the stiffened viper in my hand. The stillness dulled the pain even as the other serpents wailed in mourning. Removing them by force never crossed my mind until now. I don't wish them harm; my curse was not their doing. I just cannot take it anymore! This may be a chance to free myself.

I began to pull at the serpents attached to my scalp. Their teeth sank into my skin, injecting neurotoxic venom. I begin to sway, my grip weakens, but I do not stop. I threw the writhing creatures onto the cave floor. They shriek as they slowly pass into the afterlife.

My scalp is covered in dozens of puncture wounds, with the skin swelling. I have a crown of stumps across my head.

A brief moment of quiet swallows me. It has been so long since I felt at peace. To my dismay, the bumps continued to grow and wriggle. New heads forming beneath the surface of the skin is excruciating. I scream while the new serpents burst forth. I am filled with sadness as I run my fingers through my new brood.

My head hung in defeat. I heaved my heavy body through the stalagmites toward the opening of my ruined temple. I hit my flesh against the jagged rock formations, creating deep lacerations. I desire comfort; I am alone.

Many men have entered this chamber, and none have left. Speechless stone monuments, frozen in place, with their contorted faces carved into the surface of the rock.

I lift my eyes to any man, and they are no more. Not all the men who enter intend to kill me. Escaping criminals or men seeking shelter from the rain, but my curse knows no difference. The transition from human to statue is instantaneous once our eyes meet. They are the only company I have left.

I am trapped in the endless cycle of pain and loneliness. The serpents are feeding, I cry in agony, and the men enter the temple to meet their final, rigid end.

I am a captive of my own physical evolution. Forced to be subservient to the darkness. Only serpents to penetrate my mind and torment my soul. I am and always will be doomed to this purgatory.