Page 25 of It's In His Hiss

And it wrecks me.

Because she’s not just beautiful. She’smine.

And suddenly, that love becomes terror.

The panic comes fast, like a wave slamming against my ribs. A choking, howling kind of fear that I’ll lose her. That I’llhurther. That this—us—can’t be real.

My snakes twist violently, hissing and writhing with agitation. I try to calm them—shh, not now, not her—but they’re responding to me. To my storm.

No, no,no.

Her expression shifts, confused, concerned. “Gordy?”

“Alice, don’t move,” I say, the words slicing through the air with urgency.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, confusion lacing her tone.

I open my mouth to answer, to tell her I’m fine, that everything’s fine—but I can’t. My voice has vanished. My heart is a snare drum in my chest. And my gaze is locked on hers, burning with everything I never knew how to say out loud.

And in that heartbeat?—

She turns to stone.

Her body freezes beneath mine, lips parted, eyes wide with shock and thelast secondof being alive in motion.

And then—silence.

Weight.

Stillness.

Like the world has held its breath and decided not to exhale.

“No,” I whisper, already reaching for her face. “No, no, Alice—come back, come back, comeback?—”

My cry is a guttural sound of despair. My shaking hands hover above her, afraid to touch, to confirm the reality that has unfolded in mere seconds.

She’s beautiful still, a marble statue with deep-blue sapphires for eyes, carved by a cruel artist who captured her last moment of life with merciless clarity.

But her skin is cool stone beneath my fingertips. Her hair, caught mid-curl, no longer shifts in the air. Even Sheila recoils, hissing in horror and grief.

I did this.

Ilookedat her. Ilovedher too hard. And now…

She’s gone.

And I’m still here.

Still breathing.

Still cursed.

Still poison.

“Please,” I rasp, pressing my forehead to hers. “Please forgive me. Please come back.”

But the statue in my arms does not speak.

---