Limitless Evolution As a Snake

This time, I step forward, slow and deliberate, and take the round mid-roll. It bounces off my left flank, sparks of metal skittering across the tiles.

Lyra makes a choked sound, her eyes wide. The cat girls flinch back as one. Ham swears, repositioning his stance, but you can see it in his eyes: he can’t decide whether to call for backup or piss himself.

[System: Oi hahaha don’t tell the orange fat cat upstairs she loves piss!]

I flick my tongue. "Nice try, porkchop. Got anything heavier?"

One cat girl fumbles her radio. Crackle, static. "Dispatch, we have a demon? Negative, Satan? Request immediate backup."

Lyra slides to my side, her voice a low rush of air near my hood. "Matt, let’s go." Her eyes burn with a dangerous excitement.

Ham is sweating harder now. He lines up another shot, and I let him. The next bullet hits just above the first, and this time it barely even stings.

I open my mouth, show a fang, and drop the bullet I caught on my tongue straight onto the floor. It lands at his feet with a pathetic little clatter, and my hood flares slightly. "You missed."

The cats look at each other, then back at him. The tabby cat girl’s ears flatten against her head. "I think he’s bulletproof, sir."

"I’m not bulletproof," I rumble, the sound vibrating through the floor, "I’m just built different."

[System: you sound like a fuckwit.]

Behind me, Lyra is losing her mind, mouthing "what the fuck" and "you’re going to get us both killed" in perfect silent panic.

Ham waves his gun like a magic wand. "On the ground! Both of you!"

"Pretty sure," I flick my tongue, "you’re the one on the ground when I’m finished."

He makes a noise, half-growl, half-sob, and charges.

[System: Solid move, champ. Reckon you could take all three. Watch out for that unit on the left, though; she’s hiding something spicy.]

I need to focus; the world slows a fraction, and for once I don’t feel like prey at all. I feel like the top of the food chain.

The bear-ham cop gets within arm’s reach, and I let him grab my hood. It’s soft, honestly. I’ve been grabbed harder by Lyra in the shower. I tighten my coils, not to choke—just to hold him in place.

He’s heavy, but I’m heavier. Snake muscle is all leverage. He tries to wrench free, but I just let him wear himself out, tail-wrapping his feet like a python with a grudge.

The cats hang back. They know better than to jump in while their boss is flailing. Instead, Tabby Two draws a taser and fires. The prongs bounce off my scales, falling to the floor like I’m made of rubber.

I want to laugh. I really do.

Ham’s radio falls off his belt. Lyra grabs it, clicks it on. "Dispatch, this is Unit Seven. Suspect is contained. Please advise."

The dispatch operator on the other end sounds exactly like every DMV employee I’ve ever met: bored and slightly drunk.

"Unit Seven, confirm suspect identity."

Lyra glances at me, then back at the radio. "It’s the red snake."

A silence. Then, "Do not engage. Repeat: do not engage. Maintain visual only."

I smile. "Guess they know me."

Ham is still struggling, but slower now. He’s sweating so much I can smell it on my tongue.

I uncoil, dropping him gently on his ass. My tail wraps around the revolver’s grip, lifting it to point the barrel squarely at his chest. "You want to try that again, or are we done?"

I flare my hood wide, locking eyes with Ham as he lunges forward. My voice is a low command. "Lyra, close your eyes."

My scales shift to molten orange. A pulsing, psychedelic spiral blooms across my pupils.

Ham freezes mid-lunge, his expression going slack and vacant.

The cat girls charge in tandem. I sweep my gaze toward them.

The older one stumbles, dropping her riot shield with a clatter. The younger one’s scream cuts short as she slumps against the wall, paint flecking around her like confetti.

Lyra keeps her eyes squeezed shut, service pistol held tight but not firing. I uncoil fully, half my length arcing overhead.

"Playtime’s almost over." I press my coils around Ham, not to harm, just to hold him still in his trance. His rifle skitters away. The cat girls lie motionless, breathing slow and shallow.

"Okay, open your eyes."

Lyra cracks one open first, then the other. Ham is still upright, swaying faintly, rifle on the floor. The cat girls haven’t moved. She looks at them, then at me. "Are they?"

"Yep."

"All three?"

"Yep."

She exhales slowly through her nose. "Right." She clears her throat, straightens her jacket, and squares up to Ham like she’s about to cite him for a parking violation. "You’re under arrest. Illegal assault, impersonating law enforcement-"

Ham murmurs blankly, "I... have orders!"

Lyra cocks her hip. "Not from me you don’t."

She snaps cuffs on his wrists. I bind the girls. Then she looks at me, eyebrow arched. "So. Breakfast?"

I grin wide.

"You’re buying."

Ham groans. The cat girls whine. The kitchen’s a wreck: bob tarts shattered, coffee grounds crushed, stray bob-Tart foil everywhere. But Lyra and I stand amid the wreckage, victorious.

I shake stray crumbs off my scales. "You okay?" I ask her.

The tips of her pointed ears darken. "Better than okay."

[System: Fark, that was cool. You get your 2,000 XP and 20 IP. if you keep this up I’ll keep betting on you.]

I lean in, kiss her forehead. "Let’s go collect the rest of our horde."

She laughs, shaking her head. "City won’t know what hit it."

We step into the alleyway. Lyra’s hand brushes against my scales, not with fear, but with a new, possessive confidence. She doesn’t have to say a word.

We own this place now.

Lyra looks at me with this combination of terror and awe, like she’s not sure whether to kiss me or put a leash on me for public safety.

She picks up the bullet from the floor, weighs it in her palm. "Is this normal for you?"

"Nope," I hissed. "First time."

The hypnosis worked, but it was a close thing. Blood Venom was still on cooldown, and I needed another option. I focused inward, a silent query to the system. *Old Mate, show me the IP count.

[System: no worries you sick cunt you got 103 ip, wanna have a look?]