LEVEL 2
OPHIDIOPHOBIA: FEAR OF SNAKES
Still reeling from the frenzy of clowns in Level 1, the room that greeted us was draped in shadows, making the abrupt transition from blinding strobe lights all the more disorienting. It was almost as if the room itself was breathing - expanding and contracting with our own breaths. And then there was that incessant hissing. A low, whispering sibilance that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.
My mind anxiously raced with ideas.
“Is that…” my voice trembled, “…is that just a recording?”
“Uhhh,” Denise could only muster, not certain herself.
The further we ventured, the room morphed, subtly at first. The cool metallic floor transitioned into what felt like damp earth underfoot, the sterile environment giving way to an almost jungle-like terrain. Vines, moist and thick, hung down from the ceiling, some brushing against our faces, leaving a damp residue with a petrichor smell and something… else.
The walls began to resemble rocky structures. They weren’t smooth anymore; they were rugged, uneven, and entangled with vines and moss. It felt as though we were no longer inside a room but were slowly being swallowed by a dense rainforest.
As we tiptoed ahead, the sense of dread in the pit of my stomach grew, and the hissing grew with it. It was louder, more pronounced, as if it was beckoning us, guiding us down the eerily lit path. It seemed like a trap, but the other option was to turn back, which, if it were up to only me, I’d have obliged. But I couldn’t leave Denise.
A soft rustle from one of the vines made us both freeze in our tracks. I squinted, trying to discern what caused the movement, but all I could see were shadows, constantly shifting, taunting.
As we continued down the winding path, we came across small recesses in the walls, like little exhibitions. Inside each alcove was a lifelike display of a snake, accompanied by a description.
One exhibit showed a coral snake with its distinctive bands of red, yellow, and black. The plaque beneath read, “The coral snake, though small, packs a potent venom. Remember: ‘Red touches yellow, kills a fellow. Red touches black, venom lack.’”
Another displayed a rattlesnake, coiled and ready to strike. Its description detailed the snake’s heat-sensing pits and the deadly efficiency of its venomous bite.
Despite the fascinating information, neither Denise nor I felt a spark of curiosity, and the constant grating, reptilian pitch echoing from unseen corners served as a constant distraction. The hissing sound grew louder, filling the air into a cacophonous symphony.
The path before us continued to unravel into an ever-stranger scene as the artificiality of our surroundings shed like skin, revealing more of its bizarre anatomy. The hissing, now a consistent undercurrent within our trail, seemed to be a language of its own, whispering secrets and warnings in equal measure.
Rounding a bend, the path opened up to a clearing that was clearly the centerpiece of this level. My breath hitched at the sight. It was a tree. An impossibly large and gnarled thing that seemed ancient, a grand illusion of life amidst the wax and paint. Its roots snaked across the floor, burrowing into the earth and the walls.
Standing in the oppressive silence of the room were Adam and Eve, their waxen figures illuminated by a spotlight casting ominous shadows across their faces. Eve’s hand was outstretched, a half-eaten apple clutched between her fingers. Adam’s expression was one of sorrowful longing, his own hand hovering but not touching, as if frozen at the moment before inevitable fall.
But it was the serpent that really drew my attention. Draped over the branch, its scales were a mosaic of colors that seemed to flicker and change with the shifting light. Its eyes were fixed on Eve, a sinister gleam within them that felt all too real. The waxwork of the snake was a twisted masterpiece, positioned as though it were whispering the original sin into Eve’s ear.
As we stood there, I could almost feel the serpent’s gaze upon me, as if it were sizing me up, assessing the threat I might pose, or perhaps the potential I held to fall into its silent, persuasive hiss. Denise reached out, brushing her fingers against the cool wax of the serpent’s body.
“It’s just a model,” she whispered, more to herself than to me.
Yet, despite the logical part of my mind agreeing with her, a shiver ran down my spine. This place had a way of blurring the lines between what was real and what was not. It had a way of making you feel like you were part of its twisted narrative. And as we lingered in the shadow of the Tree of Knowledge, the hissing seemed to grow into a chorus, surrounding us, insisting that we were indeed very much a part of this story.
The walls constricted in on us, and the further we ventured, the more humid and oppressive it became. It felt like we were entering the depths of a jungle, complete with the same treacherous environment.
The path continued to narrow as we trod lightly, leading us into an alley of dense, overhanging foliage. Vines swayed gently, barely visible in the room’s muted glow and indistinguishable from the shadows they cast, forcing us to weave through them.
“Feels like we’re in an Indiana Jones movie,” Denise tried to joke, her voice hushed but with a hint of genuine unease.
We began pushing the vines aside, their rough textures brushing against our skin. But as I advanced, one of the vines felt different — smoother, colder. It wrapped itself around my wrist as I attempted to shove it away. I could feel the vine tightening, contracting, and then a subtle pulsating rhythm. Panic rose in my throat.
“Denise!” I gasped, trying to pull my hand free.
Denise jerked, her eyes widening as they focused on the “vine” constricting my wrist. It wasn’t a vine at all but a snake, its scales glistening a deep green, making it almost camouflaged against the dense backdrop.
“Oh shit, Anna! Hold still,” Denise gasped, darting my way and carefully reaching out to try and gently uncoil the serpent.
Inside, my thoughts formed a cyclone of chaos and fear. Every lecture about staying calm, every nature documentary about how sudden movements could trigger a predator, came rushing back. But knowing something logically and experiencing it are two different monsters.
Each heartbeat of mine sounded a resonant drum between my ears as the snake’s grip tightened, the sinister hiss of the creature melding seamlessly with my own shallow breaths.
“Stay calm,” Denise murmured, eyes fixed on the serpent. With calculated precision, her fingers worked at its muscular coil.
Slowly, the snake’s coil slackened, its head weaving in a rhythmic motion. With one last pull from Denise, freedom. The reptile retreated as it slithered upwards, disappearing into the thick foliage overhead.
Breathing heavily, I tried to steady my nerves.
“That was real…” I said through a quiet breath. “… That was a real snake.”
Eyes darting, Denise grabbed my hand with a grip so tight it almost hurt.
“We need to book it the fuck out of here!” she demanded.
Across from where we stood, the exit was barely visible through the dense veil of foliage. I hesitated for just a heartbeat. Our previous hesitations melted away under pure adrenaline. We charged forward, pushing through the thick, drooping vines, like two gazelles running for our damn lives.
The hissing intensified; it felt as if the very walls, floor, and ceiling teamed with serpents. Here and there, we’d misstep, brushing against something that wasn’t just plant matter, hands swatting and shoving aimlessly.
Then, before I could realize that there was a drop and that at the end of the crowded obstacle of vines, a sharp, steep drop awaited me. I stumbled, my foot catching a vine that felt all too alive. Off-balance, with momentum still carrying me forward, I tumbled into an unforeseen abyss.
“Anna!” Denise screamed.
My descent paradoxically felt short and never-ending as I was more shocked by the fact that I landed surprisingly unscathed. The impact, when it came, knocked the wind out of me. Disoriented, I attempted to scramble up but found the ground shifting and writhing beneath me. It wasn’t ground at all.
Snakes. Everywhere. Their slender forms coiled around my arms, legs, and torso, a sensory overload of every nerve left disturbed. One even glided over my face, its bitter scales brushing against my skin.
Denise’s voice drifted down.
“Anna! Don’t move! I’m coming!”
Frozen amidst a living tapestry of serpents, hope hung from a thread about ready to snap. The need to scream, to free myself, consumed me, but where terror would have otherwise escaped my lungs in a loud shriek, this level of fear beyond anything I’d experienced up to this point, not including the clowns we’d just faced before, kept me paralyzed. I knew one wrong move might spell the end.
From the writhing pit below, I watched, eyes blurred with anxiety, as Denise became a frantic silhouette against the dim light of the chamber. Agile as a cat and with her quick thinking, she clambered onto the walls, using those very vines, mounted and stitched into the stony surface as makeshift ropes. With each muscle strained and with careful balance, she navigated the treacherous climb over the snake pit, ensuring that every hold was secure before she transitioned her weight.
I absentmindedly watched in the narrow corners of my peripheral as Denise continued to find a solution while I stayed faced with my very present dilemma, still engulfed by a sea of snakes.
A low rumbling sound then drew my attention, only my eyes darting in the direction of the noise so as not to stir too much. Opposite me, a small stone door built into the wall began to grind open. I could scarcely believe my eyes as an enormous serpent, beyond any species I recognized, slid out from the shadowy recess. Its head, adorned by mesmerizing eyes and a gaze radiating an eerie intelligence, fixed itself directly on me. With an unsettling calm, it lingered, evaluating, while my instincts screamed at me to look away, to move, to do anything — yet I remained trapped in its gaze, every ounce of my being consumed by a raw, gripping fear.
My eyes frantically darted from Denise back to the large slithering reptile making its way slowly towards me. As Denise continued her desperate climb, the wall on which she relied as her sole support at the moment seemed to come alive. Small snakes emerged from crevices and gaps, their curious heads peeking out, drawn to the disturbance.
I could see her fingers flexing, adjusting her grip as serpents attempted to wind themselves around her hands. Denise violently shook them off one by one, muttering curses and short-burst screams as they attempted to nibble, overwhelm, and threaten to make her lose her grip. But grit and determination stained Denise’s face.
As I watched her near the far edge, her fingers, bloodied and trembling, finally grasped the safety of solid ground. Pulling herself up, she panted, catching her breath as her gaze locked onto the looming presence of the exit door just beyond.
Amidst the cacophony of serpents, the huge creature that emerged from the door navigated its way to me, cutting through the living tapestry that surrounded us both. It leaned in, close enough for me to feel the damp warmth of its breath, close enough to make out every mesmerizing detail of its eyes. Those eyes, wells of inscrutable emotion and intelligence, held mine with a grip more potent than any physical restraint. From above, Denise’s voice, tinged with panic and determination, cascaded down.
“Anna! Don’t you dare move!”
Her words, however, faded into the background as this larger-than-life creature flicked its tongue, tasting the air between us, deciphering my essence. It held all the power in this moment, undeniably so, yet, did nothing at the present moment. It just stared through me, and I in turn stared back, not shifting my gaze for even a second. Maybe I was hypnotized by either fear, curiosity, or something else that possessed me, I’m not sure.
Overhead, Denise, frantic and desperate, tried to find a way to reach me. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for something, anything. That’s when she spotted it. Without hesitation, she lunged for a large cluster of vines strapped alongside the wall, grabbing and yanking with all the strength she could muster, each vine she wrestled with loosing from its anchor, bit by bit.
The eyes of the colossal snake became my entire universe. Its hypnotic pull almost made me forget about the countless smaller serpents that continued to writhe around me.
My thoughts were interrupted by Denise’s voice, more insistent this time, echoing from above.
“Anna! Grab on, now!”
Gathering every ounce of willpower, without tearing my gaze away from the snake, I swiftly brushed off a mass of snakes that weighed down my arm, feeling their bodies squirm against my hand as I flung them at the large beast, temporarily startling and disorienting it, giving me the split second I needed. I took a leap of faith over the undulating mass beneath me, stretching out a desperate arm for the vine Denise had thrown down. The touch of the solid vine in my grasp shot a flood of adrenaline throughout my body.
With every ounce of her strength, Denise hauled on the vine, each pull marked by a guttural grunt. My boots scraped against the pit’s walls as small stones and debris fell away beneath me. The weight of my body felt both buoyed by Denise’s strength and anchored by the gravity of our situation. As the edge of the pit neared, panic mixed with hope propelled me to kick and scramble, feeding off Denise’s relentless effort to bring me to safety.
“C’mon, c’mon!” Denise gritted through clenched teeth as she strained.
Suddenly, I felt the ground beneath me, hard and unyielding, as Denise grabbed my arm and pulled me up over the edge, both of us collapsing together in a breathless pile. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, the noise deafening as I turned my head to meet Denise’s gaze. Her eyes mirrored my own - a mix of gratitude, relief, and lingering dismay. Words weren’t necessary. We lay there momentarily, side by side, gathering our strength and savoring the sweet touch of solid ground beneath us before getting back off our feet and back to the situation at hand.
“Anna,” Denise said, her breath still beaten and exhausted.
“Hmm?” I mustered through panted air.
“I don’t think any money in the world is worth this shit.”
“Agreed,” I nodded, before scanning her limbs. “Did you get bit?”
Denise held up her own hands and arms to her like they were attached to someone else, then just shook her head.
“I guess,” she said. “Too late to do anything about that now.”
“Denise, we need to get to a hospital or something,” I urged. “We don’t have a clue what bit you, or if something bit me when I was down there.”
“Let me see,” Denise checked me for any blood marks or other sorts of injuries. “I think you’re fine, Anna. At least you don’t have epilepsy.”
The only chortle that my state of mine could let out made its escape from my mouth. With that, Denise went for the exit door, me following right behind her, and nearly bumped into her as she pushed against the frame but the frame didn’t push with her.
It was locked.
No way… no fucking way…
“Don’t fucking play with me,” Denise muttered as she shoved into the door, then started banging with her fists madly as she shouted for them to open it from the other side.
But there was no response of any kind. We were on our own until we stuck it all the way through to the final level.
For a fleeting moment, a thought, cold and unwelcome, crossed my mind for a fraction of a second before shoving it back into the depths from where it had dared to surface: if we made it all the way to the final level.
“They’re trying to kill us,” I whispered.
Denise stared at me for a moment at my words, a mix of fear, confusion, and determination.
“Well then we better not let them,” Denise said with conviction.