A black Cobra Is it the chamber I always sleep in, or the very bed I lay on, that’s haunted? I did make myself sure of this matter and come up with a satisfying result: it is the bed. Whenever I change my sleeping place, although I am in the same room, sweet dreams come in my sleep. I have experimented with this and the same result is yielded. That horrible bed hides something under its dark and creepy recesses; even now I can see it jeering at me maliciously. Well, to be more concise and clearer for the convenience of my dear readers, let me remind you again that sleeping on that bed of mine is like buying tickets to the world of night-mares and devils. To prove the validity of what I’m saying, I’m certainly ready to invite whoever wishes to go through the same experience as I have been going through for three years now; and may God strike me with lightening if I’m proved a lair or an exaggerator. Besides, I’m responsible for every word written here. I think it’s high time I told you about the horrible vision I saw yesterday in my sleep. The truth is I have been seeing great many terrible visions in my sleep as a result of lying on that bed: different creepy ones. The one I’m going to talk about is just a fragment of those metaphysical worlds. I was walking on a dusty path, and the weather was very hot and muggy. Although the heat felt unbearable, there was no sun in the sky. Time and again wedges of black ravens would cross the grey sky and alight, in time, on the leafless trees that stood on either side of the dusty path life burnt evils. All that characterized life here was: anger, sadness, malice, death, witch-craft…I didn’t really know where I was heading to, yet I was sure I had a purpose in mind to attain. Nor were the landscapes and the surroundings familiar to me. All at sudden, I grew aware of the sound of foot-steps on my right side. Somebody was really keeping me company at that very moment and that somebody was a huge black cobra. God-forbid! Does it really stand to reason that a cobra should walk like a man? The easiness with which he kept pace along-side mine was truly unbelievable. I was mighty scared, and I recalled a friend telling me that: “Cobras, when mistreated, disrespected, or sense danger, run after you at a horse’s rate in order to put you into an eternal slumber.” So, I put aside all my cognitive notions as regards the stoning or clubbing him. Besides, he was damn big that you can imagine a penguin trying to club a grizzly bear. What really troubled me even more were his awful stench and the hissing sound that seemed to have been issued from his wide orifices. In addition to that, his big round eyes, as big as those of the Arabic horse, were fixed on me; namely, on my beating heart. Never had I ever considered myself such a weak creature! Up till then, no helpful idea came to my mind; and as luck would have it, a young man with whom I had studied in primary school and whom I hadn’t seen ever since, was coming on the opposite direction. His name is Jallal, and obviously taller and fairer than me. When he arrived at the spot I was on, we stopped in unison (the Cobra did the same too) and gave me a warm hug and a gentle laugh suggestive of the friendship of bygone days. Then he said: “Holy God! What a friend you got here!” “He is not my friend, besides I have a hunch that he did make his mind to put an end to me. He’s big you see, or else I ‘d have killed him already.” I said, sighing. “Huh!” Jallal mocked, not at me, but at the snake. “Its easy buddy, wait here a minute, I have an iron rod here with me. Guess what? I have fastened to it a bone from a human leg which I unearthed from one of ‘em turned-upside-down tombs in the neighboring cemetery. Wait here, don’t move.” I couldn’t really suffer the loss of my new friend, so I turned my head eastward so as not to be the witness of the drama. In split second, few consecutive thumping sounds came to my ears as if a woman were clubbing a dusty carpet with a tall bat to drive away all the dust from it. Then I turned to see how things had been faring so far, and I was faced by Jallal coming back as he had promised: grinning, and wholly soaked in blood that hadn’t he spoken to me, I would never have known him in the least. As for the Cobra, he carried on his destined course with only the upper half. Strange that he became so thick and wide again as if air inflated him! The whole place turned red and slippery with blood. In fact, the blood wasn’t red at all, but rather black and very thick like mashed tomatoes when burnt in oven. But, what a huge quantity of blood! Seeing such scene, one would have said: “was it raining barrels of rotten tomatoes?” “Don’t worry now,” Jallal said at last. “Ants will make a quick work for him over-night. There is no chance of survival for a wounded snake” N Moussaoui
Posted on: Sun, 07 Jul 2013 14:12:29 +0000
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