The Cult of the Serpent
Ethan sat heavily in the worn armchair in Professor Armitage’s cluttered office, the remnants of the black bile still a phantom taste in his mouth. The Oxford air outside was crisp and cool, a stark contrast to the suffocating horror he’d experienced in the past few days. The image of the serpentine creature, dissolving down the drain, was etched into his memory, a grotesque birth that haunted his every thought.