The severed snakes fell from her head, landing on the ground with a dull thud. It writhed trying to crawl away, but it couldn't. Blood splattered across the floor. From her life like serpentine hair.
Despite the unbearable pain, Taya bit her tongue and continued. One by one, she cut down the serpents. Each stroke drained her more — her body trembling, her breath shallow, her skin turning ghostly pale from blood loss.
By the time it was over, she could no longer scream. A pool of blood and writhing serpents surrounded her feet.
She felt dizzy, her vision dimming. Then everything went black as she collapsed to the floor.
As she lay unconscious, her eyes turned obsidian black, like two pools of darkness, while a thin rim of a circle of greenish light glowed around her irises. A strange green aura enveloped her whole body, as if the curse itself was trying to protect its host.
The severed serpents on the floor began to glow faintly too, their eyes flickering green as if they were giving their last energy to heal her. Slowly, the blood stopped flowing.
Taya felt a faint warmth spreading through her — a strange, almost divine embrace. The bleeding ceased, and the glow intensified.
Her short, scaly hair began to change — the scales softened, then slowly receded, giving way to seamless, smooth strands of golden-blonde hair.
The serpent that had fallen by Taya's own hand turned to stone, cracked, and crumbled into ash.
*****
When Taya opened her eyes, she found herself bathed in white light. The ceiling above her gleamed with sterile brightness, and for a moment, she couldn't tell where she was.
When she tried to lift her hand, something tugged against her skin. Looking down, she noticed an IV line running from her wrist to a drip beside the bed. She was dressed in a white hospital gown dotted with pale blue patterns, the faint scent of antiseptic hanging in the air.
At the foot of her bed, Lucy's head rested against the edge, fast asleep. Her hair was slightly messy, her eyes puffy — evidence she hadn't slept well. The moment Taya stirred, Lucy jolted awake, blinking rapidly.
"Taya! You're awake!" she gasped, her voice trembling with relief. Without thinking, she leaned forward and hugged her gently, tears welling in her eyes.
Taya blinked, still groggy, her mind fogged by confusion. "What… happened?" she murmured. But then the memories flooded back — the screams, the blade, the pain. Panic seized her chest.
"Lucy!" she cried suddenly. "I told you never to look at me!"
Lucy pulled back, startled by the outburst. "W–what are you talking about?"
Taya reached for her head instinctively — but when her fingers brushed through her hair, she froze. The texture was soft. Smooth. Not scaly. Not serpentine. She stared at her reflection in the small mirror across the room — golden strands framed her face, glinting under the light. The snakes were gone.
"I... don't understand," she whispered, touching her hair again, trembling.
Lucy watched her silently for a moment, then spoke softly. "You collapsed that night. When I couldn't reach you, I brought help. The medics broke open your door and found you lying in a pool of blood. You were barely breathing."
Taya's eyes widened. "So... you saw?"
Lucy nodded gently. "I did. But don't worry for now."
For the first time in what felt like forever, Taya didn't feel judgment but only warmth. She looked at Lucy, her chest tightening with gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered. "For everything."
Lucy smiled, wiping her tears. "Don't thank me. You scared me half to death."
*****
Two days later, Taya was discharged. The doctors handed her a single capsule, saying it contained every nutrient she needed for full recovery — one pill that replaced meals, therapy, and rest. Technology has come far in the last thirty years, far enough that medicine could almost replace care... but at least not kindness.
When she returned to her dorm, Lucy was waiting, already dressed in her military uniform. Her enthusiasm was impossible to miss.
"They started us on the basics today," Lucy said, excitedly gesturing with her hands. "Weapons handling, survival drills, and combat conditioning. We'll get evaluated next week to see who gets promoted to field training."
Taya listened quietly, her eyes soft. "Sounds intense," she said.
"It is," Lucy grinned. "But I think you'd do great there. You've got this quiet strength about you."
Taya chuckled faintly. "You don't know half of it."
Lucy tilted her head. "Then tell me."
There was a long pause. Taya's eyes drifted to the window — sunlight spilling across the floor. She hesitated, then looked back at Lucy.
"You've been kind to me," Taya said softly. "And I think I can trust you. But... what I'm about to tell you — it's not something most people would believe."
Lucy leaned forward, her expression gentle but firm. "Try me."
For the first time, Taya allowed the walls she'd built around herself to lower. And as she began to speak, the air in the room shifted — like the beginning of a strong friendship built on truth.
"So that's what happened," Lucy whispered later, her tone soft and shaken. "And that's the reason you never revealed your hair before."
She paused, eyes searching for Taya's face. "But then... Why did you decide to join the military?"
Taya sighed deeply, staring into the distance.
"I don't really know," she said quietly. "What could we have done without training, without weapons? And with my curse, I can't even use my full potential around people. I thought if I joined the military, maybe then I could learn to fight,— to strengthen my fragile body,and to at least get a head start to go hunting myself."
Lucy sighed, then smiled faintly.
"Well, at least I finally got to see how that hair looks on you. I don't know what to say," Lucy chuckled.
"What?" Taya asked quietly.
"I mean, with that boy-scout haircut, you look pretty cute," Lucy laughed.
She tilted her head slightly. "But your face reminds me of someone very familiar... from my memories."
Then, with a small laugh, she added, "Anyway, will the curse come back now that you've cut your hair short?"
"Well that's…..