The Serpent King

The king of sheep was a serpent draped in a cloak of alligator skin. Atop his flakey slate-rock mound, the serpent would properly teach the morals and structure of proper sheep life to the sheep below him.  Every day the sheep would gather in troves around the mound and listen to the hiss and rattle of the serpents lecture. The serpent demanded all sheep be properly groomed, sheared to the nearest 1 ⅛ of an inch.  One ⅛ longer or shorter, they would be killed. Impaled in fact. Impaled by the fangs of the king. The serpent demanded all sheep be properly conducted, a sign of praise was expected and required after everything the serpent said or did.  There was one sheep, however. This sheep was just like the others. He attended the lectures, he had parents who care and loved him, and he could eat as much feed as he could want. The Sheep attended the serpent's lecture just like he had done every day, when something, in particular, caught his ear.  The serpent hissed, “ALL SHEEP HAVE, AND WILL HAVE, THE SAME PATH IN LIFE AS THEIR PARENTS HAD. JUST LIKE THE GENERATION BEFORE THEM.” The sheep praised all sheep beside him. The serpent darted his head, and without hesitation, wrapped the boy betwixt his tail, bringing him to his mouth. The sheep was silent, more notably, he was willing.  The serpent sank its fangs and dropped the sheep down the mound. As he fell, the bones inside shook and rattled like a bag of animal scraps. Blood was splattering everywhere, the sheep praised once again.

The sheep awoke on a mound, a mound of cloud, far above the serpent's realm.  He peered below the clouds and saw the serpent preaching and the students praising. He laid on his cloud, the wind through his wool, and the air fresh.  He may have been separated from the rest however, he was much happier than any sheep before him.