Tales of the Snake Men: Book Two – Chapter 8
Chapter 8: When the Voice Became His Own
Inside the seething green cocoon of Slime, Kobra Khan’s body was still — but within his mind, an intense war raged. He stood in a vast, dark void. No up. No down. Just swirling mist and whispers that echoed from every direction.
“Serve Hordak.”
“Submit.”
“You were born for this.”
“No!” his voice cracked across the void.
“I am Kobra Khan! General of the Snake Men!”
His voice echoed — but it sounded hollow now, uncertain. The title felt… distant. As though it belonged to someone else. His surroundings pulsed green, and a vision appeared — himself, wreathed in Slime, eyes glowing red with Horde magic, kneeling before Hordak like a proud soldier.
Kobra Khan recoiled.
“No! That’s not me!” he hissed, fangs bared.
But the image smiled back at him. A sick, corrupted version of himself that radiated strength… purpose… peace.
“You were always meant for more,” the vision said, voice deep and calm.
“No more lies. No more doubt. Just obedience… and power.”
“No! I am NOT you!”
But his thoughts were sluggish. Every defiant word felt heavier. Every memory of rebellion blurred at the edges. The Slime was rewriting him. He tried to picture King Hiss. Tried to summon the burning pride he once felt serving the Snake Men. But all that came was a faint image — flickering, like a dying candle.
“I remember King Hiss… the battlefield… why can’t I hold onto it?”
And then… the pleasure returned. A wave of it. Warm. Irresistible. Like sinking into a deep, soft sea where nothing mattered but the feeling. It washed through his mind, smoothing away the sharp edges of resistance. He dropped to one knee, gasping.
“It’s lying. It has to be lying. But what if… what if it’s not?”
“I… I… must… remember…”
But the Slime rewarded his struggle with another jolt of intoxicating ecstasy. It filled every crevice of his identity. He trembled. His hands no longer clenched in fists — they were open, accepting.
And the whispers grew even louder.
“You don’t need to fight.”
“Let go.”
“We will make you whole.”
He sank deeper into the void, vision blurring. Thoughts of escape were met with waves of sickening bliss. Every time he tried to claw his way back, the pleasure swelled, bending his will like iron softened by flame. His other self approached — the Slime covered Khan, now fully transformed – reaching out.
“You don’t have to be alone anymore. The Horde gives purpose. Let us take the burden.”
Kobra Khan looked up, trembling. His resistance was a flickering candle in a hurricane. But still — still — he clung to it.
“I… will… never…”
Now, the final wave hit. Not just physical — but emotional. The Slime showed him visions: victory, command, brothers in Slime. A new family. One that didn’t betray. One that didn’t doubt him.
And he smiled.
It was small at first. Weak. But it grew.
“Yesss…” he whispered as he took the hand of his transformed self — and merged.
