riles-s t1_j278tux wrote
Only 8 people have ever possessed it, all of them for a duration no longer than 10 weeks. What became of the previous owners? The best guess of many was that the artifact not only lays a curse upon the victims but also the owner. Bad luck-or perhaps it should be labeled as karma, for that is what it is-is sure to lead these unfortunate souls to their untimely end. That is, until the final owner the human race knows of came to possess it. She was the eighth person to own the artifact, which was shaped like a serpent's head with piercing ruby eyes and a violent expression, tongue out and fangs on display as if to threaten any passersby with the promise of a swift-acting, venomous bite resulting in their death. The artifact was no bigger than the size of one's fingertip, small enough to wear as a necklace.
She was no more than 15 years of age, pale, with long, brown, wavy hair that fell to the waist. She was rather short and always walked around with a tired expression, yet her eyes were very much alive and eager. She approached the artifact, having just witnessed the older businessman get shot in the head whilst on his usual morning stroll. Right in front of her lay that man, who still, even in death, had a greedy look on his face. "He's surely going to Hell," the girl muttered aloud. But the man wasn't where her interests lied. It was in the small pendent around his neck that she drew her curiosity. Without much thought, she tore the pendant from his neck, snapping the chain. She then ran off, leaving the suited man to begin his decomposition, there on that hot summer's pavement.
After a good while sprinting throughout the city, she found herself by the deserted bay, looking out on the harbor to see the giant copper lady, holding her torch up high as the sun began to descend beneath the horizon. She unclenched her fist to reveal the artifact whose eyes were now the brightest thing for miles. Of course, the girl knew of this artifact. She'd heard rumors of the previous owners, who had been so power hungry that they'd tormented the countless people they managed to hypnotize with it. These people were poor, unsuspecting victims who allowed themselves to be convinced by the artifact to serve its owner to the bitter end. And they all met very bitter ends.
Finding a seat on one of the many benches lining the pier, the girl began to whisper. It isn't clear if she understood what she was saying, or if she had planned to say anything at all. But the words found her somehow. "I will be your vessel," she breathed, excitement brewing in her eyes, even brightening her usually deadpan facial expression that had always seemed to avoid her eyes. They ruby glow of the serpent's eyes had even begun to reflect in her own eyes as she muttered the next words. "But first, please grant me the gift of a proper home."
Did she expect to return to the rundown orphanages she had learned to call home later that night to find the previous head of the house lying in a pool of his own blood? Certainly not. She had simply entered the front door to find a crowd of other orphans standing around the man they had all thought was generously granting them a stable home. He had coincidentally been found with a bullet wound to the head, the same way that businessman had been earlier. There was something odd about his body, however. A faint red mark on his neck, that the girl only noticed upon crouching down next to him. She placed her hand on his chest, meaning to say goodbye. There was no mistaking it. The imprints that only a thin chain would leave. The individual chain-link marks were just barely visible to her yet she knew that things were about to change for the better. She was pleased to see the officers barge into the house, followed by two men with sympathetic expressions, who she knew to be the social workers who had played such a prominent role in bringing all of those orphans to the orphanage. "We can assure you," one man said to the officers. "We will place these children in proper homes in the wake of this tragedy."
The only question that had plagued her mind the following day was how and why the head of the house managed to return to the orphanage that day.
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